The Donkey Dick
A former book monger’s tale about the power of words
Many, many years ago I found a delightful gem at a yard sale. I do not particularly care for yard sales. To me, it is not fun going through other people’s junk. (It is even less fun to have a yard sale.) But at a certain time in my life I made it a point to stop at yard sales when I spotted them. And the reason for this is books.
You see, for most of my life I have ‘suffered’ from a book disease. I do not know if this disease has a name but it is a particularly virulent disease for which I have found no cure. Since early childhood I have had an uncontrollable craving for books. They turn me on in every way imaginable. I spent countless hours at the library and, to me, a book was the very best Christmas present ever.
There is no better feeling than to hold a book in my hands. One year my parents gave me a Latin/English dictionary for my birthday. I remember opening the book and holding it up to my nose and taking a very deep breath. It was an instant high. I slept with that Latin/English dictionary for several weeks until I finally set it aside for a different book.
As an adult I have had many jobs in many different fields but I kept going in and out of the book industry. I have worked in and managed several different bookstores, in fact for nine years I…
