The skies finally cleared but a strong wind has kicked up. The floating bookshop was in danger of blowing away today, but it was a case of "where there's a will, there's a way." Thanks to Chase employee, Jack, who continued his patronage, buying Michael Curtis Ford's epic of ancient Greece, The Ten Thousand. Thanks also to the woman who purchased two Amy Tan novels.
I'd set up a few feet from one of the new-fangled parking meters that spit out a slip of paper drivers must display on the dashboard. An old-timer stood before it today, totally baffled. He asked my help. He thanked me, shaking my hand with an iron grip. We got to talking and, eventually, he showed me a medallion he uses for a key chain. He received it for his work on the Verrazano Bridge, which was completed circa 1961. Before that, anyone who wanted to get to Staten Island from Brooklyn had to take a ferry, which accommodated cars back then. I remember making the trip in my brother in law's Rambler. Now 79, the gentleman is a widower, having lost his wife to cancer two months ago. It's always tough to hear something like that, even though we know life does what it does.
Speaking of old-timers, I ran into Morty as I left the recycling center yesterday. 75, a retired salesman, I imagine he is very wealthy. He knows all the ins and outs of the art of the deal and frequently relates his success stories. I see him almost every day. He is constantly on the go, searching for discounts. It's been in his blood since he was a kid. During WWII he collected newspapers for recycling and was paid by the weight. Sly fox that he is, he soaked the middle of the stack with water, making it heavier. I was still laughing a block later. What a character.
Thanks to the young man who purchased Cormac McCarthy's The Road yesterday just seconds before the sky opened up. Fortunately, I had hefty bags to cover the books. I, on the other hand, got soaked.
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