Getting the Last Word in First

As Wendy wraps up a busy semester’s end, Jack writes the weekend guest blog.

“Let’s Talk” is our monthly discussion group (first Thursday each month) and any participant can nominate a subject to discuss, which must be just one or two words. Our good friend Tony, the local Presbyterian Minister, came up with the idea of the event  and is our fair and impartial moderator. We generally have between eight and twelve regular attendees and the only rule is that everyone’s views must be given respect. Subjects have ranged from ‘citizenship’ to ‘karma’ and even included–thanks to shop-sitter Andrew–“nose picking” (which led to a surprisingly insightful discussion on social taboos).

It’s fascinating to watch how the regulars position themselves at this. Um, that’s not a reference to nose picking.

Those who have read Wendy’s book may be surprised to learn that, while I delight in discussion and am likely to be found at the center of the debate, jousting merrily with my rhetorical lance, Wendy sits, small and quiet, crocheting in an armchair, just taking it all in. She says she isn’t much of a debater. Hmmm….

We’re not the only ones who stick to a pattern. Among our regulars are two village elders; let’s call them George and Gina. George is the archetypal curmudgeon. He has perfected opening his mouth exactly 20 minutes before the group’s 8:30 pm finish, lobbing his always-controversial views with maximum incendiary effect.  By contrast, Gina is our classic local grand-dame: quiet but determined, she is also known for waiting until late-on to offer her sensible, well-reasoned input.

Watching the interplay between these great characters is always an evening highlight. How does one get in the last word without getting left out entirely? Perhaps this explains why lately they have been vying with each other to get their thoughts in first–they want to be behind everyone else, yet ahead of each other.

The results are … hysterical. Gina clears her throat, and George starts talking. Gina waits, looking smug, as George, realizing he’s been tricked into starting early, winds to a disgruntled halt–and Gina gets in the last word. Next month, George will clear his throat, Gina waits, thinking she knows this trick. But then George not only says his piece, but filibusters, and just as he ends, the clock strikes time. Tony, a popular preacher in town because he knows the value of clock-watching, gets as much a kick out of the proceedings as we do, but he doesn’t let things drag on.

When people ask me what I like best about the bookstore I usually answer “the customers”. George and Gina, bless them (not their hearts, them!) are two reasons why.

A Cuppa and a Swirling Spiral

On Boxing Day we had a full shop: people spending their Christmas gift money; locals bringing visiting family to say hi; people who read Little Bookstore and were traveling for the holidays, who came close enough to stop in and say hi.

It’s like a gift that keeps on giving; people who have read Little Bookstore are starting to stop by, or to make plans to come in the Spring. As anyone who knows us knows, Jack and I delight in the ebb and flow of disparate people swirling around the books here. Sure, it’s nice when they buy them (helps keep the dogs in chewy sticks) but it’s also fun when they just sit and have a cuppa, and chat.

John and his missus got off the highway on their way to visit his elderly dad. John lives in Asheville, and the pair of them work in schools so underfunded they now have circuit riding librarians instead of full-timers. We had a good chat about their work with Romany prejudice in Romania, fights for library funding in North Carolina, and other acts of social justice and self-awareness.

And we’ve met other people who think differently about these things–or think about other things altogether–and enjoyed them just as much. Fellow bookslinger Glen has a radically different view of how the world should work, and we like him just fine. He made us tea and we talked ideas when we were in his Tennessee bookshop, and did the same when he visited ours.

The people enjoying Little Bookstore are varied in geography and opinion. The ones too far afield like our shop on Facebook and leave cool memes about rescuing shelter animals and other interesting topics. Some of them think armed guards should be at all American schools. Some of them think teachers should be sent once a week to all American gun stores.

It’s a wide continuum, but the part Jack and I like best is that it is less a straight line from “think this” to “think that” than people who think for themselves wanting to talk AND listen. The absolute best chats are when people debate not to win, but to gain. They want understanding of things they haven’t considered yet, points of view not from their own eyes. We’ve seen a couple such chats go down in the bookstore; we learn things; the people talking to each other learn things; we all drink tea.

Perhaps people with differing ideas don’t fall in a straight line from left to right so much as a spiral; one person’s left is another’s right; my point of no return is your slight incline to an altered viewpoint. Spirals do have beginnings and endings, but they have a lot of climbing and curving before you can find either one.

Perhaps this is what bookshops are for: to give people access to ideas in a safe environment for exploring them? And cups of tea.

 coffee cup  Stock Photo - 9722359