Tag Archives: Jack Beck

It’s a Nice Place to Visit….

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Since Little Bookstore‘s publication, many nice people from all sorts of interesting places have written via the blog or our bookstore’s Facebook page to say thoughtful, funny, sweet things about their experience of reading it. They tell us their own stories, comment on things that resonated with them, ask insightful questions.

Yesterday a woman sent me a sweet and slightly different note: I just read your book and your description of the disastrous trip to the used “bookstores” in Indiana and after checking the phone book am sure you were in my city! Please – you were in a rotten part of town – we have a wonderful Used Book Warehouse I think you would love!

Do all towns have such pleasant defenders? Betsy is right; I was in her town, and since we’re friends I can tell you that Evansville, Indiana was indeed the home of the infamous Fulton Avenue Books and Fuquay Avenue, chronicled in the “Booking Down the Road Trip” chapter of The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap.

What I didn’t know, but do now thanks to Betsy, is that nearby in Newburgh is a Middle Eastern cafe, an ethnic cookery style I love to sink my teeth into. So next time we’re passing that way, we intend to explore its delights. Thanks, Betsy!

But there is a funny continuation to this story. One of the things they teach you in Author 101 school (the three weeks between handing in your final edits and the pre-book events cranking up in earnest) is how to make and monitor an online presence: Facebook, blog, Twitter, Pinterest. I’m a natural at FB and love the blogosphere’s interaction; Twitter and Pinterest, I’m slowly figuring out. (All pointers gratefully accepted!)

The stats on my blog include a map of where people reading it are from, and what search terms they used to find it. About every three to four days, I find that someone has landed on my (if I do say so myself) cheerful little blog about a daily life full of colorful local characters, book browsers, kittens and sweetness, by searching “porn” “Fulton Avenue Books” “adult bookstores” or “Evansville.” (Sorry, Betsy!)

Can you imagine this person’s disappointment when up pops a pic of our latest kitty fosters (NO “kitty porn” jokes, thanks!) or the now-infamous photo of Jack from his birthday party? They may never recover….

But it does explain why my stats keep rising. ;] And I look forward to the Middle Eastern food.

IMG_3526jack birthday

Armatures, Armatures

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Long before Wendy and the bookstore ensnared my heart, I was a professional house-painter—from apprentice to master in just twenty long years. I know that when one is properly trained and experienced one knows how to do things easily and correctly. Those who continue to practice their craft keep good skills honed.

I’m an excellent painter. But joiner, plumber, electrician, plasterer? What, is that water or electricity running thru yon pipes? As I continue with the saga of the bookstore basement remodeling I’m struck by the knowledge that I’ve been trespassing in places experienced angels fear to tread.

Did I mention that I was such a good housepainter, I was invited to teach my craft in the local college and then became Head of the Construction Trades Department? In that capacity I regularly observed colleagues teaching all the crafts listed above. I valued their expertise.  I even picked up some tips.

And as the basement work continues I find myself being either incredibly lucky or having to do things three times – once completely wrongly, once the right way, but badly – and finally more or less acceptably.

It would be too easy to blame the idiosyncrasies of a 1903 house, its settling over the years and the work of the DPOs (see my previous blog post) for all my frustrations and miss-steps as I re-measure and re-do, but the reality is that I’m an amateur.

Which reminds me of a joke. An old friend worked as an “armature winder.” The armature is the wiring that winds ‘round parts of motors; rewinding them is a highly skilled job. But given its pronunciation, his standard comment was that he would eventually be a professional. And people who didn’t know what he did would smile and say, “Well good for you, keep learning!”

So I salute the real joiners, plumbers, and electricians in our small community, I thank the ones who have kept me from drowning, frying, and dropping large beams on my head. And if you need your house painted, call someone else.