MY TAKE by Rose McGlew
I have always had a love affair with books and recently I started working in what might be the closest thing to paradise here on earth. I am now officially a part-time library assistant at the Washington branch of the Mercer County Library System!
I have made the frequent joke that it’s a good thing I decided to work at the library rather than a bakery just based on the amount of stuff I take home from work. I’d be as big as a house in no time! In addition to the library news, I’ve found a wonderful Web site to share, but only after I reveal the circuitous route of how I came to appreciate the non-ownership of books.
I was probably in second grade when I received my first library card in Toms River and I loved the Saturday trips downtown to the tiny little library and the extra special trip downstairs to the children’s section. It opened up whole new worlds to me and I would bring a shopping bag to hold everything I wanted to bring home. Beverly Cleary and Laura Ingalls Wilder were my two favorite authors and I felt like Ramona and Half Pint were special friends I could visit any time. When I received my own copy of "Little House on the Prairie" as a Christmas present in 1977, my hunger for ownership was piqued.
From fourth grade on, all I ever asked for present-wise was books. OK, I did slip in seventh grade and ask for a pair of roller skates, but only in addition to my book requests. I read everything and anywhere. I was fortunate enough that my parents never edited or censored any of my reading choices although now, as a parent, I cringe when I think of some of the things they did allow me to read. I’m not sure I would be so permissive. I’d like to think so, but I can’t imagine sitting by while my 12-year-old reads Judy Blume’s "Wifey." (Well, I had already read all of her other books…)
The buy of the century and one of our family’s favorite stories is the time I bought an entire library. For two dollars. We were on a weekend vacation up to the mountains in Pennsylvania and went to an auction on Saturday night because there was nothing else to do near World’s End State Park. When the several cases of books came on the block and were announced as the contents of the Forksville Library, I just couldn’t resist. The auctioneer reminded everyone that they had to take their purchases home that night. I bid. So did one old man. He bowed out and I won nine cases of books for two dollars. Luckily, we still owned a Volkswagen bus and were able to cart them all home but nobody who had to sit in the back was very happy especially when we realized that most of the books had to do with coal mining. But really, who could have resisted owning their own library?
When it came time to head off to college, I knew I couldn’t bring everything, so I packed up and dragged all the books I had collected to my father’s house and stored them in the attic. Four years later, when Dad decided to sell the house, I realized the books were going to have to come home. So Paul and I made trip after trip up to the hot and musty attic to retrieve all those books and haul them to our tiny one-bedroom apartment. Our apartment that was so small we had to buy a double bed because a queen wouldn’t fit. We piled the cases around and on top of our one dresser, in the living room where we covered them with a piece of fabric and called it a coffee table, and in the kitchen, where we stacked some filched milk crates on top and made a cabinet. I had to keep my books.
Fast forward to our move for Paul’s first "real" job in Philadelphia. We packed the books up again, having little furniture to bring save the double bed. Two years later, it was back to the beach with all the books and a baby and all his stuff and some furniture. Two more years passed and we bought a house with plenty of room for all those books and the additional furnishings we had acquired. So we thought. Those books had to go. Would I ever really need a reference book from 1987 regarding calculus? How many versions of world history textbooks did I actually need? We donated 15 cases of books to various causes and sold even more, paring down to the bare bones. And it felt really good.
We ended up on a first name basis with every librarian in town and the only books we bought were children’s for Paul and Jacob, the new baby. The Little Egg Harbor branch was sad to see us go when we moved out here to Robbinsville, but we soon made friends with everyone on Route 526. In fact, we signed up for library cards three days after moving here. We knew what was important not buying any new books! Especially not with the brand-new mortgage we had.
In giving away so many books over the years I have come to loathe actually buying a new book unless I know I will treasure it forever. There are several titles I have purchased over the last couple of years, but I still like getting rid of them better and I found a new way to do that. I am now able to release my books and set them free and still keep in touch with them at the same time through www.bookcrossing.com. It’s a terrific Web site that encourages the recycling of reading material and I cannot recommend it highly enough.
I found the web site, coincidentally, on a message board for a particular author’s fans. Several of us have since signed up and have started setting our books free. I have already left books at a restaurant, church and school and have plans for dropping them at more restaurants and stores like Wal-Mart and Target. I’ve noted that other people have left them in bathrooms in public buildings, but I’m not too sure how I’d feel about picking up somebody else’s bathroom reading material. Some other popular drop-off sites seem to be doctor’s offices and hospital waiting rooms, movie theaters, hotel lobbies and casino gaming floors. I’ve just taken to keeping an extra book in my pocketbook for an emergency evacuation.
I feel like I’m on a secret mission every time I set a book free. I’ve left several throughout the state already and hope that someone will "catch" one soon and report it on the site. Yes, I could just give the books to charity or take them to a used bookstore, but I sort of like the idea of still being connected. Kind of like those relatives that you don’t necessarily want living with you but you enjoy hearing from. On occasion. Check it out and let me know if you "find" anything good to read!
Rose McGlew is a resident of Robbinsville. Her column appears weekly in The Messenger-Press.