Love hurts – or does it?

Jack’s usual weekly guest blog post –

It’s funny how connections can get made across time and distance.

When I was attending primary school, back in the 1950s in Dunfermline, Scotland, one of my best friends was Manuel Charlton. We stayed in touch off and on over the next twenty years or so as he developed his musical skills and began playing with a rock band called the Shadettes that played regularly in the local dance halls. They never recorded, I don’t think, and were rarely commented on in the music press – just an anonymous small town band playing covers of current hits.

Then they changed their name to Nazareth (named for the opening line of ‘The Weight’ by The Band) and almost immediately were signed by a major recording label. One of their early singles was ‘Love Hurts’ and this was a massive world-wide hit for them. These four guys from Dunfermline went on to record numerous albums and hit singles.

Just a couple of years ago my good friend and marvelous fiddle player Pete Clark was invited to join them on stage for a celebration concert in the original Carnegie Hall in Dunfermline (birthplace of Andrew Carnegie) – it shouldn’t have worked, but it did. Pete wove seamlessly into their best known hits and cavorted around the stage as if born to the life!

Just a few years earlier I was being interviewed on radio in Slovakia and the record played immediately before (completely by coincidence) was ‘Love Hurts’ by Nazareth.

Back to the point – one of our most loyal customers here in the bookstore is a guy who is seriously into rock music and I was able to bring him from Scotland a signed copy of a poster for the concert that Pete took part in. When Wendy and I , as we often do, visited Mackay’s bookstore in Knoxville this last Sunday (whenever we visit with her parents we head to Mackay’s afterwards), I headed upstairs to their music department. There, in the LP section, staring me in the face, was Manny Charlton – for a dollar fifty!

I immediately thought of ‘the loyal customer’ and handed it over to him this morning – to his great delight.

So, Manny Charlton – although we haven’t spoken in a long time, we continue to connect and you continue to bring great pleasure to your fans.

Manny in full flow.

Manny in full flow.

Questions and Answers (you will never hear in a bookstore)

We apologize for the delay in this weekend’s blog. Wendy was away writing, and Jack forgot!

Questions bookstore customers ask and the answers bookslingers long to give, but never do.

“Where do you get your books from?”

The book fairy brings them. At night. And we also get together with other bookstore owners and dance naked around the book conjuring cauldron on James Patterson’s birthday.

Gullible people like you who don’t know there are hundreds of pennies to be made on the sale of each and every hardback work of fiction ever published.

Oh, we just go to the library and search the dumpster.

Yard sales. And then we mark them up 400%. And spray them with Lysol if they smell like cat pee. What can I help you find today?

“So have you read all these books? Heh heh heh.”

Duh. You think I’d sell a book I hadn’t read?

Just the red ones. Heh heh heh.

Who, me? I’m sorry; I thought you were asking the shop cat. Yes, she has.

“Do you sell books?”

No. This is a drug front. Say the password so I know you’re not an undercover cop.

Only if we can’t talk you into a Nook or Kindle.

Sometimes, if we’re very lucky.

“So how’s this work, like a library, you borrow the books and bring them back?”

No. You buy the books and bring them back. Then if we like you we’ll sell them to you for another two weeks.

Yes, that’s how it works, but you have to give us your Social Security Number so we can sign you up.

Oh, is THAT how a library works?! I’ve always been afraid to try one, since I saw that HBO film as a child, where the librarian looks all sweet and kindly but is actually a soul-sucking demon from Hell.

“Is this the adult bookstore?”

That depends on how you’re using the word “adult.”

Get out. And wash that raincoat.

Why? Can you read?