Brookline Booksmith UBC Find Archive

UBC find of the week archive

Okay, listen up:

Everybody is ready to be a parent.
The Parenting Industry has spent a handful of generations and
several billions of dollars to coerce us into thinking otherwise.
But they are trying to scare you into consumption of their line of products.
Tune that junk out.

The only things you really need are:

1. a large piece of soft fabric.
2. a source of fresh water.
3. the ability to provide food to a human who doesn't have teeth.

And if on top of those three things you have a steadfast partner,
you can consider yourself golden. I consider myself golden.
Everything else comes with time, and inevitably.

The look on my face? I should think it was obvious. It's this wallpaper.
A bunch of grapes on a scale, some dangling kitchen utensils up there in the corner...and an eagle flag topper?! Gosh, what a mess.

Wait...no...the look on my face was just gas. It's always just gas.

These unsigned song notes, found in a book sold to the UBC, is of course about the great Boston Celtics.

The lyrics open with a nod to Connie Simmons, teammate of Bob Duffy (the original Bobby D., he played forward on the very first Celtics squad, from 1946-1947), and brother of Johnny Simmons (the "Johny" that Connie sees "in San Quentin", which I'm going to go ahead and say is hoop slang for Oakland, where the Golden State Warriors play). The Warriors franchise (also formed in 1946) were originally from Philadelphia, which would certainly be far from Oakland, and might account for the "far from here" line in the "chourus."

Moving on, we are forced to guess, because depending on who you talk to it's possible that "the Glue that holds your family" could be Doc Rivers, or Paul Pierce, or Kevin Garnett, or, historically speaking, the ghost of Red Auerbach, but then the lyrics identify this character as having a "grey beard" and - if the reference hasn't shifted by this point in the song - as being called "the Bean Man", which would point us to, obviously, Bill Russell - grey beard, very tall and skinny, arguably the greatest player/coach and elder statesman the league has ever known. And not a turkey hunter.

The "Fender TELi" is a reference to the development league team in LA, the D-Fenders, and I have to assume that the only reason they get mentioned in this song is as a snub to the LA Lakers, a team of creampuffs and egomaniacs whose top four claims to fame are, as of this moment:
1. winning fewer championships than us.
2. eagerly chasing and securing the loathsome Dwight Howard.
3. standing silently by while Kobe Bryant played himself into the ground trying to save the organization from what will go down as their most embarrassing season in history.
4. stealing Rick Fox and forcing him to wear a jerry curl.

Keep Paul and Kevin in Celtics green, Danny!!

Actually, I love these ruffles on the sleeves, and I think the proportions are actually quite good. But I have to say, Everest, the same problems come up with you week after week after week. I think part of it is your taste level, and part of it is your styling choices. Is that a black eye? Was this girl in a fight?
And can we talk about this hat. When you design for the younger woman, you still have to tell her story. Where is she going, who is she going to see? This hat, it's almost nautical. This wasn't the beachwear challenge, Everest. And I don't care what you say, Heidi, there's no sexiness in this outfit. I mean, those buttons go all the way up. Heidi, I know you say you would wear this, but to where?
On the Red Lobster carpet?
I don't know Everest. I am not a fan of this look.

Here is what we can be sure of:

It was finally determined that Kitty Cat was not a human child.
So that left six "childern": Warren, Joan, Emily, Jean, Karim (adopted), and Ann (also adopted). They were, according to the equation, suckers.

The six then got three more pets, Excerly (?) Flipper, and Frity.

Ann, shocked when she eventually learned that she was adopted, abandoned her family and ran off with a bee.

Ann fell to her death in mid-sentence, 1979.

I'm pretty sure that this is the shopping list for
Harvey Keitel's character (the "cleaner") in Pulp Fiction.

"No, no no! Why would I think you are some kind of sicko?
That's not what I meant at all.
Oh, come on! I just meant, you know, it's about, like, stuff that I just don't get, like gross stuff that I know you are interested in.
What?
Of course that's not why I don't eat breakfast with you anymore!
I don't think you are a sicko.
I do not think you are a pervert.
No, I don't.
I do mean it. Come on. Just forget you ever saw this note.
Just pretend you didn't read it, oh come on, this is crazy.
No, I am staying here tonight!
With you, yes, please, no, don't, aw come on. Come on!
Honey.
Honey.
Please."

Dude
Useful
Dumb
Exciting

Oh, Chelsea.
I hope someday you'll want more from your dude.

"Jonas K. Patch of Shelburne Falls, a fine type of the old-school gentleman and for over half a century a photographer at Shelburne Falls, is one of the few surviving photographers who have practiced the fascinating art from its earlier beginnings to its present development."

From a 1903 article about Patch, who photographed this man in 1865.

Is this good or bad news?

Yeah, but he could see the stitches on an incoming fastball, isn't that right?
So who cares what he was like on a date. This is sports in America, and as Ray Lewis could
probably tell you, the fans will forgive anything.
Unless you are Lance Armstrong. Wait, I'm confused.
Whatever, they'd probably all be bad dates.

On a related note, I love my wife!

Although Mom told him that he would only have to sit there for about ten seconds, Mr. Bunny was still very very nervous, and it wasn't until afterwards, once the big slice of carrot cake - which he got as reward for being so brave - actually arrived at their table, that his stomach stopped feeling all jumpy.
Even when she was just a picture in a magazine, or in a commercial on the tee-vee, the Easter Girl was scary to him. He couldn't explain it to his Mom so she would understand, and so she told him that he would just have to be a brave bunny and let her sit on his lap, because this picture was a present for his Grammy, who's hip was acting up, and she couldn't get out of the warren to visit this year.
He knew this wasn't the real Easter Girl, but even so...those dimples. Creepy.

I love you both, and I hope you will always remember that,
because I am a shark now,
and it is going to be hard not to eat you if you come in the water.

This makes my heart hurt.
While you're there, we're almost out of mustard and Alaskan king crab spread.
Get a gallon of each. And eight dozen bottles of sparkling cider.
Unless they don't let you get just half the package,
in which case go ahead and get sixteen-dozen.
And twenty tubes of toothpaste.
Please.

It was a new year.

Not really too fascinating, I know. But, it does give me kind of a reason to share this.

"Cleaner" than what? Because if they are implying that we here in Swartz Creek, MI are dirty, well, then why don't you just go ahead and give us back our Creek, so we can wash up! You folks in Flint got so high and mighty, built Bishop International Airport and laid Interstate Route 69 right down on top of our Creek. Oh, but wait, what's that just over the town line, over in Flint? Why, that's the Swartz Creek coming up again like a magic spring, winding its lovely way right through that lovely golf course you folks have! What's that pretty patch of green called again?
Oh, that's right, Swartz Creek Valley Park!!!!
"Cleaner", my butt. Highways and jumbo jets and second-class putters. That's all they're good for in Flint.
We want our creek back, Flintstones.

Found in a book of poetry by Chairman Mao.

After a number of years of this, I'm convinced that only the most evocative of snapshots make it into the pages of books. They never fail to blow me away. This is amazing.

Heads up, Buttons the cat!
This note we found in the UBC is for real!
I'm pretty sure I recognize this handwriting!
Get outta here, 'cuz you're on the menu!

"Please God bless me let me feel good so that I can Have the power to go to the movies tomoroy."

SO many bosses at such a young age.
Childhood is hard these days.

This is a metaphor for something. It just has to be.
I wish I could think of what.

Not quite as stirring as Remember the Alamo, but those who feel overwhelmed will sometimes still whisper this phrase, and the frost of fear will melt at the memory of that heroic fundraising effort, which ushered in a new water cooler, better lighting in the accounting department, and freshly painted lines in the employee parking lot, so that Doug could no longer straddle two parking spots and pretend he didn't know that he was doing it.

1. Don't give up.
2. Just make something up.
3. Don't look to me for help.
4/5. You're totally lost, aren't you.
6. Are you gonna go cry to Mommy? She's not listening.
7. Don't ask them, they want you to fail. They told me.
8. Wait, are you crying for real now now?! What's wrong with you?
9. Just put an answer down. This is taking far too long.
10. This is the most important thing you have to do today, so why aren't you focusing on it?
11. Another 5-hour Energy? I'm shocked.
12. I don't want to hear about it.
13/14. Poor baby, nobody knows how hard you try.
15. Whatever, you want to hear about problems? I've got problems, I never hear you ask me how I'm doing.

For me, this was the most distressing scene from the entirety of The Sopranos.

Take my word for it; this found note really does deserve the spotlight.
It's just that I'd get fired if I didn't censor it.

Agent Barbara Brooks of the W.G.B. knocks down the door in the middle of the night.
You are wanted for questioning.
Why didn't you just buy off the registry?
You will explain yourself.

"Mom, just stand still.
OK, so this knob is for the afterburner,
no, the parachute.
No, the afterburner.
NO MOM I DON'T NEED THE MANUAL. The guy in Sharper Image went through it all with me over the phone.
Lean forward.
Hold the bar.
Lean forward more.
So, parachute, I mean afterburner,
and you got the steering bar thing in your hands, and the lights are already on.
Do you want me to set them to blink?
Fine, you're right, whatever.
We should've strapped you in out on the porch. Whatever.
NO MA, I'M TELLING YOU, I SAW A GUY USING ONE OF THESE CHRISTMAS TREE ROCKET PACKS UP AT SCHOOL, WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M AN IDIOT."

My favorite thing on this bookmark is
The Hydrant of Old Knowledge.

"Lollipop lollipop lollipop lollipop hold still and lollipop lollipop just tilt your chin up a little for me,
perfect lollipop hold it right there lollipop lollipop that's great and think about the lollipop your Mommy's holding
(click...click...click) great! Perfect! (click...click) Good job kid, here's your lollipop. Beret, please."

Fond memories of Christmas past? No, clearly.

Can't a giant rabbit just get a nice portrait for the old photo album?
You gotta joke around? I understand that you ladies at the Center for Infusion get tired of being a regular stop on all the tour routes, but next time stop for a second and think of how it's gonna make him feel when he gets back to the burrow, sets up the movie screen and puts these slides in to show the kids. Have you heard the sound of forty-six bunnies laughing at you? Huh, lady? Have a heart.

Hey, I didn't write it.
I just points 'em out when I sees 'em.

Word of advice for next time, monkey.
If the dog is coming at you using a subdued bear as a weapon, this is not a fight you can win.

Dextrim logged on and started giving his beach date the "grand tour", which, if his computer practice paid off, would culminate in him downloading the newest Katie Penny song for her, It's Gonna Be Like That, at the same time as he showed her how awesome he was with his plasma cannon in the cool first-person-shooter game "Karnage Dump".

Grimacing as she pretended to be impressed, Moneyta hoped that his stupid keyboard would get filled up with stupid sand.

Taken in August of 1970 at a Women's Rights Day event.
Wikipedia tells me that on or around August 26th, 1970 there were a lot of protests around the country, modeled after the one organized by Betty Friedan on that date in New York City. Anyone know if there was one in Boston? I think I can see "Bos" at the very top of the paper on her lapel.

The pole blocks part of the message, so it could be "Women's Tights Day", but I don't think that was probably what it said.

All kidding aside, this is a terrific snapshot..

A postcard from Oslo, Norway.

Collectors!! A shrink wrapped package of 6 Harry Potter bookmarks.
Email me if you want them!

Ok, everyone, time to submit your guesses in this day-late
Valentines Hangman puzzle!
Here's a few of my own:

"I Mostly kiSS YOur mom."

"I Might have left your flowers on the train, but they wouldn't let me back on because I lost my T paSS,
YOu'll forgive me soon, so we can still get it on tonight, right?"

"I MeSS YOu up."

This picture makes me feel very good today. I want to hug these folks.
On the back:
Kelly + I in Wimberley
'86

Lift up the sheet of acetate and you get a surprise!
But this newsletter strives to get in under an NC-17 rating, so...

You tell me. I have no idea.

They can be sure that they have done
a good job at being parents because:
1) He knows how to write a letter by hand when he needs to.
2) He is not afraid to openly express his emotions.

Yes, young Chorke is growing up to be a very good man.

I know that there are a lot of fans of Used Book Cellar's "find of the week".
I've received the regular invitations to the parties on Quint Ave. in Allston,
where some informal BU clubs and societies dress up as their favorite finds.
But this one is something special.
This could've launched a film by Buñuel or Hitchcock,
a book by Nicole Krauss or Thomas Pynchon.

Perhaps it's actually the number five, but I'll stick with my initial impression:
that this is little girl with a teeny teeny tiny factory on her head,
emitting a thin line of smoke into the wind.

I'm not sure what the girl in the foreground is playing at.
That don't look like no tumblin' to me.

A Cape Cod beach, Summer 2002.

AP - On a local beach yesterday, witnesses report that a baby, estimated to be more than eighteen feet in length and wearing a bonnet that could have easily concealed a Blue Ribbon pumpkin at the Big E, washed up sometime before 5am. It floundered about for a bit at low tide, seemingly unconcerned by either the damp clothing or it's missing pacifier, which a local hobbyist may have stolen, according to suspicious neighbors, for use in some sort of mysterious rocketry experiment. While concerned locals went in search of a heifer capable of providing an improvised morning feeding, the adorable, gigantic creature slipped back into the waves, disappearing right when nobody was looking.

Just in case the image doesn't come out on your computer, or I didn't do my work in Photoshop well enough, I'll fill you in, because I really like this one. These are hastily written ideas for a wedding toast, written by a panicky best man. They are scribbled onto the fronts of two unused "HELLO MY NAME IS" -style stickers.
Here is his opening line to the crowd.
"The food has been wonderful, and at most weddings you worry about the bride forgetting to eat.
But if you know Nikki, we don't have to worry about it."

I did not do that.

Long Distance Ballistic Flatulence.
Dan here was the inventor of the funneling technology which made it all possible, and the most prolific provider of development as well as propulsion for companies involved in the new field of Controlled Methane Blast Shipping. He will be missed, unless of course he returns to Earth on the far side of his experimental parabolic arc, where we will welcome him back as a hero, scrambling to get underneath his plummeting form with the enormous saggy emergency-descent trampoline crash-pad of his own design.
May you never run out of gas in the great beyond, Dan.

And here we are at the edge of the Void Eternal.
I don't know why Dad didn't wear long sleeves that day.
We checked the weather; he knew it was the Final Day, and that it was going to be windy, and probably absolute zero all afternoon.
Now, forgive me if some of the next slides came out a bit fuzzy...

The extra dog butt.
Melissa had long since stopped trying to cover it up with out-of-date bustles and cumbersome hoop skirts. Dumbfounded strangers, like this one momentarily exposed to the camera while Melissa bent over to check Ubu's leash, could hardly be blamed for staring.

Yay for the photographer.
There is a truly visionary aesthetic at work here. Observe how through contrast and composition he has not only separated the family unit from the surrounding space, but from each other as individuals. Can anyone honestly tell me that this photographer didn't have some primitive form of Photoshop at his disposal? What did they use back in those days? Were they called scissors? Is that baby actually really big? Really small? Is it across the room, or on his lap? Are they folding out of her person in some sort of Philip K. Dick-esque pan-individual-quasi-reality event?

Certain snapshots truly capture a certain time and place.
This one makes me grateful to have never been there then.

"Got it. Do you have a pencil? No, yeah, sure, a pen is fine.
Let me...just...make...a note...of that...There.
Now I'll remember to not write on this side."

Bill Moyers wasn't always as sharp as he is now.

More terrific space-themed storyboarding.
I don't who this young illustrator is, but I like the attention to detail.

Before you take the easy route and throw this drawing up as one more piece of proof that today's youth are overly violent, and harbor "Secret Dreams" about killing their peers, let me just say that I drew almost this exact same drawing in elementary school, except that the tank was a souped up dirtbike with spinning blades on the hubs and missile launchers mounted on an oversized banana seat, and the target was this vile older boy named John Musto (those two words brings an evil sneer to my face even now, more than two decades later, as I type this) who would flick my ears mercilessly at the bus stop on the coldest days of the year.
We have always had violence in us; we always will.
Just keep kissing the babies and making them laugh,
everything will be alright.

Oh, yesssss. Finally, a simple way to not only dispatch mosquitoes, but also RECYCLE THE BLOOD THEY SUCK, IN ORDER TO CATCH MORE MOSQUITOS!!
The Mosquito Trap is a patented structure featuring 'thumpers", wing-clippers", "pin-stickers", and the "dead mosquito dumper".

Oh, really?
(sarcasm) - Do tell!
(breathlessness [feigned]) - Where did he go?!
(the act is wearing thin) - Is he your older brother or younger?!?!
(now I'm mad) - Did he bring me anything?!?!?!?!

Seriously. You call this a story? You think you can just leave it at that, and call it entertainment?!
I am not left wanting more.

Fill in your own damn caption. I'm not touching it.

Ok, who here knows the Sarah Silverman Show?
Her sister's dippy cop husband? Don't you think?
Mind you, I am not implying that this fine goods
transportation facilitator is in any way dippy.

What, the three greatest saints?
Most people, sure, they'll tell you Anthony, Jude, Paul.

You ask me? I'll tell you it was Agofredus, Gotteschalk, Helen.
You see? Unconventional.

Unfinished thoughts and angular bikini sketches.

He's wearing pj's.
And that cup is taller than his head.
Someone is gonna be sorry before the night is over.
Probably not him, if experience is any guide.

So that every time I open my book to read, and I feel all those judging eyes upon me, and I hear the whispers, the mocking, "What's he doing?! He's so dorky!", I can be reminded of what my mom always said. It's hip to read! She also said that when she got us all fanny packs for the first day of school.
It's hip to wear fanny packs! And they're buy two get one free...

Exploding the lies and fear-mongering of the anti-American global-warming conspiracy-theorists,
this artist provides clear and unmistakable proof that TREES LOVE CARS.

I've had my share of wonderful childhood Christmas memories, but this is Christmas.
Easter always makes me think of Christmas.

This tassled throw pillow has a long way to go, and I'm not sure
what traffic violations he'll commit by traveling on I-93,
but I sure hope he gets safely to his destination.
Brave little tasseled throw pillow, don't give up!

"Morin, 1969"

8"x10" on Kodak paper.

Were-rabbit Blair likes olives, lentils, and his impressive new hair weave.

His dignity hurting perhaps even more than his, well, you know, Dan the Moth Man decided then and there he would never again try to make a pass at a woman carrying a pointy kayak.

The two sides of Jenn.

They've got to be set design sketches for Our Town, right?

I always leave my gemstone next to my toothbrush on the bathroom sink.
One of these days it's going to end up down the drain.

Carl and Andrea found these printed directions inside the cover of a book sold to the UBC. Some of the portions were almost illegible, so I did my best to decipher what was originally written in order to fill in the gaps.

DING DING DING!!! This question wins an award.

I can't tell if this is a draft for a "let's get back together" letter which is surely doomed for failure,
or an actor's monologue.

Modern art. Who the heck can tell these days.

I had some friends back in college. They were in the Communications school at BU. I helped out with locations and some costumes for their student films. Pretty typical stuff. Here's a still shot from the last scene of their take on the Stephen King classic, Carrie. In this version, it's graduation, and it's oil, not blood. There was some kind of ecological message in there somewhere, I forget what it was.

Tracings of the Illustrations from the iconic book Gnomes, by Rein Poortvliet and Wil Huygen.
If you want a little, papery, translucent glimpse into my childhood, here you are. One might find these very same drawings inside the covers of a book in my home in Connecticut.

WELCOME TO HOTEL INTER-CONTINENTAL.
PRIDE OF PRAGUE, JEWEL ON BANKS OF VLTAVA.
TWO BLOCKS FROM OLD TOWN, EIGHT MINUTES FROM MUSEUM OF COMMUNISM.

This is the most intimidating cat I have ever seen.

WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?!?!?
GET OFF THE TRACKS!!!!
GET OFF THE TRACKS, THE TRAIN IS COMING!!!!!

This will be the title of my first novel:

You've Always Been There For Me
Through Everything And I Just Want
To Thank You For That. You Better
Come Visit Me Next Year At School.

a novel about forgetting

by Paul Theriault

"Where? Here? Why?"

What the photographer knew, and the subject, both tragically and comically did not, was that this was the slightly lesser known Blahhhhh-ney Stone, which emits foul vapors from a dark crack near its base. Unfortunates can initiate the emission by tickling the moss.

Crass. I'll do better next week.

Forget about the recipe, what am I supposed to make of the term "ultrafast confocal"?
Can marketers of new technologies please stop making up new words?

"Dish ish a weayey weayey guhd Sthugah Da-ey."

Monday, prepare for college admissions.
To Guile Tech? I think Bernie Madoff lectured there on occasion.

This photo was actually found in a big box filled with old Booksmith snapshots.
I remember working with this guy. He was always trying to sell people copies of Naked Lunch, by William S. Burroughs. None of us could ever use the break room during his shifts.
I won't go into details, but he would just perch in there, it was creepy. Always pecking at his cereal.
I don't know why we hired him in the first place. He didn't stay long. Customers didn't like him, I guess.

This makes me feel wonderful.

This game was right after Patrick Ewing got seriously injured.
I rooted for his son at Georgetown (even though I am a die-hard Syracuse fan) the past few seasons.
Now I feel really old.

Don’t you find children embarrassing? And how old is this trick, anyway?
“Oooh, look at me Mommy, I’ve got this egg on my nose!”
Like we’re all supposed to clap and say what a clever child or something.
Does anyone really fall for these kind of childish gags anymore? Grow up, for crying out loud.

This early case before Judge Sotomayor will be key to the Senate Judiciary Commitee's deliberations.
I thought you, faithful Bmail readers, should get first crack at it. It's only just.

I have a shirt with exactly that collar at home.
No really! It's for special occasions. Reenactments and stuff. And flying lessons.

It concerns me that this message is abruptly cut off. Did anyone out there ever hear any word from attendees of the 1971 Titanic Historical Society reunion in Riverside, CT? From what I know of the original tragedy, it took some hours for the ship to go down, but I fear that whatever befell this postcard's author was rather more sudden.
Perhaps the iceberg simply dropped upon the top of the building this time. That would explain it.

And this is why I read books.

Kilroy was electrified!

I love this postcard so much. Mike likes his co-worker Morgan a LOT.
So much, in fact, that I had to censor his feelings.

Riiiiiiiiight. And don't call later, either, because I'll be napping all afternoon.
Oh, and just leave the car keys, ok? In case I have to drive myself to the...hospital.

BOMbaBOMbaBOMbaBOMba BOMBOMBOMBOM

Kilroy was here... and was seemingly all charged up.

INTERFACE WIF ME & LETZ EXPAND DA PIE SYNERGY. POWERPOINT AND CIRCLE BACK TO DOWNLOADZ ME :)
BEST,
EXECUKITTEH

(WHATEVER I'M HOPPING ON A 2-YEAR-OLD MILDLY-FUNNY INTERNET MEME. DID YOU REALLY WANT A BOOKMARK SHAPED LIKE A MOOSE AS FIND OF THE WEEK?)

Weekend at Bernadette's 3: Prom of an Afterlifetime

A big plastic dressing room sign, mixed in with a box of used books.
Huh?

Wow.

Somebody has a crush! Hope Valentine's Day treated you well, Mr. Great!

A charming story about a regrettable 22nd
up-chuck in a life filled with up-chucks.
A book recommendation that was born from the memory of that event.

On the back of a postcard with a Richard Nixon sculpture.

What book accompanied this postcard?
Experience tells me it might have been a Chuck Pahlaniuk novel.

The cyborgs have taken over the household. You can see the original siblings in the background, frozen like little Han Solos inside a cheap $12 picture frame.

Unless someone with a chemistry degree speaks up by the end of the day and confirms that this is definitely not a recipe for some sort of chemical weapon, I feel it is my duty as a patriotic American to report this find to the Department of Homeland Security.
I don't know anything about anything, but I know something scary and un-American when I see it.
Like science.

I think that in the first hundred days, Obama should send out a big greeting card that welcomes all the scientists back inside again, where it's warm, and where people are eager to listen to them.

I love this little painting.

The front of this touching father's day card features an award-winning watermelon, and a person exclaiming 'WHOA! Watermelon!"

Amazing, this is pretty much exactly what our Thanksgiving spread looked like this year. Except there were marshmallows on top of the...wait, what are those? shrimp and cream cheese bagels?
Happy Holidays, from the Kraft Cheese Cookery Family of Processed Cheeses.

"we can't change, but we can expand"

Nice. Good thought.

Uh oh.

Watch out. Cats are on the rise.
This cat has visualized a square.
What next? A triangle?
A CIRCLE?
The formula for the CIRCUMFERENCE of a circle?

This is how our ancestors began, never forget. Abstract thought that crystallizes into concrete ideas that affect behavior and become useful patterns of behavior which, through the "theory" of evolution become encoded in the genetic makeup and get passed on and refined and expanded until one day Fluffy stands up on her hind legs and says:
"I bet you never knew that I've been reading your newspapers when you're done with them. Would you like to do the crossword together, or should I just activate my new robotic opposable thumb and do it myself? Make me a sandwich."

Trying to sneak a shot of the famous Four-Hand-Squirrel-Man, the photographer was shoved hard by one of the the subject's hands as he fed two baby squirrels with his other three. The camera was only able to capture only partial proof of the abnormality to bring back to his Circus' freak show boss. "We've already got a Three Handed Woman! Now get back out there and find me someone with four of something, or you're on Dunk Tank duty for the rest of the month!"

The man on the right was once the proud Captain of the Goodtime I. The tragic tale of that ship is still told today, in inns and pubs from Seattle Harbor all the way to downtown Seattle. The man on the left was working in the engine room, and he lost 97% of his sight that day. He can see shapes faintly if they are in very high contrast to their surroundings. Hence, the Captain has worn all white ever since the day he was freed from his full body cast following the tragedy. His beard has not grown one inch, due to his bizarre injuries, and the mental trauma he endured during those 45 minutes on the poopdeck. The blind engine boy is now very good at calculus, a subject he had been clinically diagnosed as "unable to be taught" as a child. One strange and potentially useful outcome of a bizarre maritime disaster.

Aaaaah, New Year's Eve 2000, when we were all obliged to ignore math and calendars.

Stick-in-the-muds would point out that, according to the most basic mathematical truths, a decade has not passed until ten years have ended and the eleventh has begun. A century has not ended unless the full allotment of one hundred years have actually been completed. But go on to voice your boring old "opinion" that the new millennium will not begin until the dawn of 2001 , and you are shouted down as a party-pooper, an elitist, a pain in the butt.
Where was the outrage?
Where was Arthur C. Clarke, may he rest in peace, to chide us:
"I called the book 2001 for a reason, people. It wasn't just that it sounded nice."

Could we, after waiting ALMOST 1,000 YEARS, really not wait just one more?

Oh, the often dark and stupid powers of Marketing.

Suzy and Katie live over three miles from the nearest bathroom, so when the car is in the shop and nature calls...well, tough luck Katie. Hope you can hold in that birthday mimosa you had with breakfast.

This was left inside the dust jacket of a copy of Dianetics
sold to us by former Surgeon General C. Everett Koop.
What a scoop!

Called by one art critic "the Howard Cosell" of the art world, it's no wonder that when LeRoy Neimann, one-time cartoonist at Playboy, now the greatest sports painter of his day, found himself faced with the obvious and invincible fact of his surely ever-lasting artistic greatness he felt obliged, nay, perhaps even divinely compelled to begin publication of his own broadsheet newspaper, every inch of its nine pages jam-packed with news about his celebrity painting buddies as well as his glorious handlebar mustache, among other things.

Here I took an old elementary school photo of my mom and Camille Paglia, and, by using modern crime-fighting software, I digitally advanced their images to appear approximately as they would today, in 2008.

As you can see, during the process the ghostly image of the real Anastasia, identifiable by her royal handbag, appeared next to my mother, proving once and for all that Camille Paglia was, indeed, not the reincarnation of the lost Princess Anastasia.

Ok, so this looks like a pretty strange find-of-the-week, right? Well, what was actually found was a memory disc from a digital camera, and when I checked its content on my computer, I found a lot of vacation photos from a trip to Ireland. If anyone out there knows this man, this boy, or this horse, tell them to get in touch with me at paul@brooklinebooksmith.com to retrieve their holidays snaps.

What these two vacationing first-time para sailors don't know is that I've used Photoshop to remove the cable that connects them to the boat below.
Let's watch what happens.

Ooh la la!

Go visit Ken, down in the Cinemasmith. He's a brand new pop and some sort of genius. Within two minutes of looking at this deeply faded snapshot, he had determined the approximate year of the picture (from the umpire's uniform,) which teams were playing at which ballpark, and who the third base coach was, if you can believe that.

After arduously taking notes for her lit class, student leaves them folded inside cover of The Complete Idiot's Guide to Study Skills which she then sells to the Used Book Cellar. During the following day's oral exam on Salman Rushdie's Shame, her brain freezes and all she can say is that "um...reality in the book was...like, folded in on itself...or maybe it wasn't there at all. Can I be excused? I have to go really bad."

How sad that lunch with your aunt & uncle is schmoozing...

Pixie Sticks in the bathroom...I remember those sorts of parties.

There is an air of deep sadness about this week's find.

Without hesitation, I proclaim this wire, sent at 6 am on June 24, 1948,
to be the greatest find-of-the-week in the history of b-mail.

What could I possibly say? The boy, he speaks for himself.

This is the perfect shoulder bag, captured in this terrifically composed snapshot slipped inside the covers of a book sold to the UBC recently. Look at that slim, flat-bottom design, sturdy construction and surprisingly roomy interior. With the stylish but practical reinforcement panels where the strap meets the body of the bag, this is a classic look, wearable for many springs to come, ladies.

Although that skirt is so three years ago.
And don't get me started on that balustrade she's leaning on. Hello, are we Jane Austen?!

Just another incident of a cat eating a smaller cat.
Is anyone really shocked at this behavior anymore?
Kittens these days.

A fascinating newspaper clipping about repressive Soviet behavior.

From 1961.

A pretty impressive find tucked inside a book sold to the UBC this week. It's a typewritten report from the Israeli Embassy, dated 1982, detailing policy background concerning the PLO.

Congratulations to the King and Queen of this year's
"Dead Under the Sea Homecoming Dance!"

In college, I spent time in a lot of time in the dorm rooms of fans of the band Cake. This Polaroid offers a remarkably accurate reconstruction of the bedside tables I observed there.

Hello! my name is Allie,

and if you talk smack

about my life again,

I'll give you something to cry about.

A customer called in and sent me on a search down in the UBC, looking for his lost autograph book. I found it (making it this week's find of the week), and it was filled with literary treasures, have no doubt. Edward P. Jones, William Gibson, Jane Goodall, Susan Cooper, John Banville, Michael Chabon, Gregory Maguire...the list goes on and on.
I'm still deciding whether I should call him back to tell him I found it.

Kidding.

Here's a newspaper clipping from the Lawrence, MA Evening Tribune, March, 1942, with a not very funny cartoon. BUT, on the other side there are fragments of tips for preparing for a blackout. Among them are calls for cessation of all outdoor weinie roasts and instructions on home ventilation. It's a terrific snapshot of a time well before my own when the government:

a) asked citizens to participate during times of war

b) gave them specific instructions detailing exactly how they should prepare for the worst

but...

c) provided them with reasons to hope for the best

Of course, for my generation, that's been boiled down to:

a) Don't stop shopping.

b) Vote for us or you'll all die in a variety of horrific ways we're about to describe to you.

Here is a list from a doctor's notepad, mostly a list of clothes; could be a wish list, or maybe a packing list,
I really can't tell. The front side ends with "Good Dart Set", which is directly followed on the backside, in a completely different, more feminine hand, by "Photo Sitting for the Children."

In a right-leaning world, Parrot is the only candidate that will stand up straight
for our jobs, our children, and our future. Vote for moral uprightness. Vote Parrot!

Found on the shelves in the UBC, this little religious tract about the
falseness of evolution really made me think.
Then I thought for just one second longer and I felt alright again.

Several pages of notes from a training session for a cosmetics counter salesperson.
I hope that losing the cheat sheet won't cause them to forget "The Funnel Method" of getting a shopper to try the new line of Pore Enhancement Reducer with Clarifying Jojoba Wax Repelling Agent - Specially Formulated for The Pro-Active Woman With Factor 10 Dermal Tautness.

"That's great, just lean right over onto her Jim!
You too, Barb, really lean into Jim!
I want to see the awkwardness! Show me the awkwardness!"

UBC buyer Carl found this pair of intensely personal letters posted on two consecutive days in 1980. The end of an affair is the subject, so I won't go into any detail, and I've edited out any incriminating information. But I made sure to show the end of the second letter, perhaps the very last words exchanged between these two, where one party extends good luck wishes to the other party's husband in his future goals in dentistry. I guess things appear to have ended without too much rancor..
If the author or the recipient (or the dentist) is reading this, email me if you didn't mean to lose this letter.

For the record, all you kids out there,
I used only three of these techniques during my student career, and I turned out just fine.

I "actively participated in discussion" before, during, and after classes and study breaks; I recall reviewing a multitude of "wrong answers"; and I definitely "allowed for physical action in solving problems", like when I crawled commando-style out of my Spanish class during a test for which I forgot to prepare a method of cheating.

One has to be specific.
It seems everyone is called either Peter or Carrie these days.

A bit of history here. We have the proverbial cocktail napkin upon which the calculations were made that brought about the end of an era. Now I finally see why the bookstore altered its name all those years ago. How can you keep the name Paperback Booksmith when 183 + 50 = 233? Tell me, how?

This is a 19 step checklist of safety rules for a SCUBA diver.

The third item reads:
"Never use oxygen in tank"

My prayers are with you, SCUBA guy.

A fragment of my home turf showed up inside the tattered covers down in the UBC this past week. Next door to my hometown of Plainville lies New Britain, CT, home of Stanley tools as well as the fearsome New Britain Red Sox. In their first season in the AA, playing at former Beehive Field, they won the league title behind the arm of one Roger Clemens.

No longer part of the Red Sox farm system, now they are called The Hardware City Rock Cats.

OK, what is a rock cat? I did some research, and the only "rock cat" I could find was this.
So, that's what the team was named after, huh? Seriously?
Couldn't be. The team is prob'ly named after something really awesome, like this cat that's like a rock star.

I think this slip of paper is a reader's personal index to pages in a book.
What is this book?

Three pages devoted to collectibles? Weird, but coming right on the heels of "office/technology" I can appreciate the change of pace.

Six pages for the sex scene? That seems appropriate.

Wait, Nixon? Who wants Nixon right after...you know? Oh..DON'T be Nixon. I get it.

Wait...the "Best Painted Car" gets $150, and the "Most Aggressive Driver" gets only $100 more? And, if your car stalls out for more than two minutes you're disqualified? I'm going to get my paintbrushes out, paint my car like a meatball sub, park it by the judges seats, claim my $150 and get out of there. Suckers!

Every week, I try to come up with something funny to say about the "find of the week,"
but I just don't think there is anything funny about Siamese twins, joined at the hair.

The list runs:

Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Bailey's Irish Cream
Glen Fiddich
Disposable Diapers
Marsala

The first, fourth, and fifth items were apparently picked up, but unfortunately the social lubricants remain on the liquor store shelves.

As talented as Sr. Garcia-Marquez may be, a party that succeeds in bringing he and disposable diapers together but then misses out on the scotch is no party at all.

A postcard with lovely views of scenery, featuring waterfalls in Dixville, N.H., as well as a shot of the grand hotel, The Balsams, also in Dixville.
Anyone out there ever stayed at The Balsams?

"This is an earlier
version. There may be
new rules.
Anyway
great family
trips!
Muriel"

An earlier version of what? The American flag?
New rules banning the super-imposing of teddy bears and smaller flags on top of the larger, original flag?
What do you mean, Muriel, what do you mean?!

" How mad + bad +
sad it was
But then how it
was sweet.

Ugh "

Perhaps I shouldn't be announcing this particular find because I feel sure they must read this newsletter, but I have found hard evidence that the Vikings are planning their next wave of raids on the coastline of the New World. The surprisingly rudimentary code was not difficult to crack: the plan involves a combination of their traditional high-prowed long ships, phone tapping, and the Pony Express.
There is no immediate cause for alarm however, and I think the best thing we citizens can all do in this time of looming crisis is to continue to go about our daily lives.
Keep shopping.
Here.

Dated October 9th, 1968, this postcard from Florence makes me jealous as well as nostalgic for a time I've never known. Hailing from Dayton, OH, Vivien cruised the Mediterranean, and this postcard back home to Noie tells that she has spent a week in Florence, acquainting herself with just about every 13th,14th, and 15th century artist she could. She is on her way to a week in Naples, after which the ship departs for the coast of Africa, then Turkey, Greece and Yugoslavia.

My wife is reading 1968 by Mark Kurlansky, a book that paints a picture of turmoil, resistance and unrest worldwide during that pivotal year. I guess someone had to be takin' it easy, right?

It's gonna be OK.
You're going to be OK.

From mystery reader Leilian - "Books are educational adult"

Snapshot, on the back of which is written:
"Hockey Hall of Fame" Toronto, ONT 07/01
For me, it's the Hall of Shame!"
How sad.

Their large, irreverent friend Chip always has to do something stupid in the
vacation snapshots, doesn't he? In the Vatican it was rabbit ears behind the Pope, and now this.

This hand-written agenda is hard to read, I know. I'll fill in the highlights of this strange,
cascading Pride Week schedule: "beach", "beach", "beach", "beach et al",
culminating on Saturday with the entry "gay", followed directly by "leave."

That's a mighty big banner the happy couple made, but their cat does not look impressed.

Billy, how strange that your levitation skills have waned so precipitously?
Billy, how strange that your legally blind grandfather just drove by?
Billy, how strange that your lesson plans include french kissing?

Lindsay, if you're reading this, I completely agree, and I think this is a very good book report. I especially liked the middle part, where you talk about his time in the RAF. Exciting!

"How is this object like my life?
My life
is a frazzle
slinky
nerves
jumbled together
on the Blue
Birds back."

This ticket stub for The Museum of Communism in Prague brings back a memory of my time there with my wife on our honeymoon. As you enter the building that houses the small Museum you find yourself ascending a red-carpeted grand staircase that divides itself at the first landing. The sign on the left points the visitor to the Museum of Communism, the sign on the right to the casino.

Jess, we'll always have that short film about the Velvet Revolution. I love you more today than when we learned about so-called Socialist Realism under Stalin.

For those among us who remember that terrific little cookbook shop that was once
just around the corner, here's a bookmark from the good old days.

COOOOOL, we found an insert that fell out of Yogi Berra's "Get To Know Your Yankee Clubhouse" information packet, which used to be presented to all rookies during orientation weekend.

Big interview at the State Department. Poor kid loses his checklist. Misses his chance to be a spy.
Probably better off.

04.23.07

J. Titov from the past? from the future? maybe j. will return one day and take me with him.

04.16.07

04.09.07

"Leah, You are the beautiful urchin that lights up my day."

04.02.07

This newspaper headline is enticing - "Trojan War Portrayed with Over 100 Pupp"
Puppets? Puppies? Puppeteer Activists? We'll never really know.

03.26.07

03.19.06

03.12.07

03.05.07

"UGLY CHAT"
"My Daddy owns a Dealership!"
"I Have a fat face"

02.26.07

02.19.07

02.12.07

This Grateful Dead trading card features Phil Lesh, and says, "These days he spends most of his time being happily married and the father of two handsome sons, Graham Hamilton and Brian James. He also works on encouraging the development of out-there jazz and contemporary classical music on a monthly program called "Rex Radio" on the Berkeley station KPFA."

02.05.07

"Book Mark, Courtesy of Reuter's Soap, for the Complexion and Toilet"

01.29.07

01.22.07

01.15.07

This is a picture clipped from a newspaper, headlined "Kennedy Spares the Life of a 55-Pound Gift Turkey" with a caption underneath that reads, "Charlie, one of the Kennedy pets, taking a judicious look at the big turkey yesterday." Perhaps what is most noteworthy about this find is that someone clipped the picture, glued it to a piece of brown paper, dated it, and strung a piece of yarn through the top so they could display it. On the back of the paper is written, "This 'picture' hang in my office. 1/14/89." Folks, someone kept this picture for TWENTY-SIX YEARS.

01.08.07

This week we found a little ad for a Lobster resaurant, which isn't very noteworthy until you notice that it's in the heart of Puerto Vallarta. Lucky for us Yanks, the host, Benito, speaks English. And he'll give us a free drink, or 10% off.

01.02.07

11.20.06

11.13.06

11.06.06

The UBC find of the week is a postcard of the U.S. Custom House in Boston. It was mailed in March of 1943 from a Lieutenant to his mother in New Hampshire. It reads: "Cleveland. For now no news to report. Cold along the line, but not snowing now. Train running about an hour late. Nice night's sleep. Was glad to see Bellis and to have her go back with (??). Enjoyed seeing you all. Love to Walter and you both. Roger."

10.30.06

"She had the experience of an older woman, the morals of a she-wolf - and a whole high school for her wanton playground!"

The morals of a she-wolf?

10.23.06

10.16.06

This week we found a page from an old encyclopedia which describes the Chinese Water Deer. Genus Hydroptes: Among the tall reeds fringing the banks of the Yang-tse-Kiang, there occur numbers of a small deer differing from any of the species hitherto noticed in that while both sexes are totally devoid of antlers, the males are provided with long scimitar-like tusks in the upper jaw, as shown in the figure on the next page.

I'm guessing this made the Chinese remake of Bambi a lot more interesting.

10.09.06

This index card is like some Johnny Carson-esque enigma. Why would somebody write these two things on either side of the same card? And what does it mean? And where are they now?

10.02.06

This is a subscription card for Nursing Made Incredibly Easy. Excuse me? Raise your hand if you'd want someone sticking a needle in your arm who subscribed to Nursing Made Incredibly Easy. My hand is not up.

09.25.06

09.18.06

This scribbled-down phone message comes with the clarification that the "so" is "more a needle pulling thread than a fifty." I wish all phone messages came with footnotes from classic Broadway. Although technically, the syllable that the von Trapps define as "a needle pulling thread" is "sol" in musical terms, and "sew" in linguistic terms. Basically the clarity of this messge is spiraling out of control.

09.11.06

I chose this picture as the find of the week because it is a very Tolstoyan scene - two women working side by side in a field - and Saturday was Tolstoy's birthday. What's strange is that the message written on the back is a congratulatory note to two newlyweds. Who would give a picture of two people doing manual labor to newlyweds? Tolstoy, that's who. Happy Birthday, Lev.

09.04.06

"Mummy arrive au Queen
Mardi 8 septembre...episode n 1"
Le Queen is a club on the Champs Elysees, according to the back of the card,
and this woman must be their DJ.

08.28.06

This week we found an old book cover printed for Harvard University in 1947. The front has a picture of John Harvard (I'm assuming, and if I'm wrong I'm sure I'll be rightly e-flogged), and the back carries an ad for Old Golds ciggies. "We give medical claims the old soft shoo!" it says, "But Old Golds always give you a TREAT instead of a TREATMENT." This makes me nostalgic for the simpler times when Harvard would condone ignoring scientific testing in favor of nicotine (perhaps because the scientists were women).

08.21.06

I'm assuming this is the picture he sent in with his application to be one of Bob Barker's Beauties.

08.14.06

This is an advertisement for a Weldon Roberts Tri-Ply eraser, which can eraser typewriting and ink as well as pencil and carbon copies, and even has a built in whisk to brush away eraser crumbs. "Tools of Expert Workers."

08.07.06

07.31.06

This guy looks upstanding.

07.24.06

This week's find is a small flyer for a revolutionary new woman's brief - Be-Free, the only "patented for comfort" brief of its kind! " The listed garment features are:
-Perfect fit - 4-way stretch
-Perfect freedom
-Skilled workmanship
-Laboratory-tested, quality fabrics
-Elastic guaranteed to "Stay-on" for life of garment
-Nylon seamed for longer wear!

Won't ride! Won't bind!

07.17.06

Someone, apparently a Pasternak aficionado, had these two newspaper clippings from the 1960s tucked into their books. The first is about the struggle of Pasternak's friends to hide their devotion to him from the Soviet police after his death, and the second is about the Italian ex-communist editor who published Dr. Zhivago in Italy even though it was going to be banned in Russia.

07.10.06

One one side, a Mr. T logo; on the other, "Buy a gift at the Shopping Center for your overseas pal."

07.03.06

Beachgoers and Bird Coexist: A Snapshot

06.26.06

In our UBC Find of the Week, a photograph, a moderately well-dressed man stands idly in front of a copy machine and recycle bin.

06.19.06

Our UBC Find of the Week is a page from a This-Day-In-History calendar. It informs us that Britain's first census was conducted in 1801, and some of the answers to "rank, profession or occupation" were:
- artificial scone-maker
- decayed publisher
- emasculator
- rust attendant at lavatory
- proprietor of midgets
- beef-twister
- separated from head
- fatuous pauper
- fifty-two years an imbecile
- examiner of underclothing
- knocker-up of workpeople
- supposed to be a lady
- sampler of drugs
- hand in Hartley's Jam
- turnip shepherd
- gymnast to house painter

06.12.06

Our UBC Find of the Week is a postcard described as "Beach Party, 1950s." I am including it here for two reasons. One - somebody obviously bought this postcard quite some time ago and never wrote a single thing on it or sent it. Apparently they just thought the aesthetic value was that high. Two - I thought it might be educational for all of us to think about what "summer" is supposed to be like. All the pleasant activities they're enjoying - wearing skimpy outfits, grilling and eating outside, holding their arms straight above their heads, tossing a beach ball - are possible because of what is termed "nice weather." In the event that the heavens are not relentlessly pouring buckets of water on the earth for weeks at a time, people have been know to enjoy the out of doors, and pursue activities that will keep them there as long as possible. I will understand if this concept is too foreign for you to grasp, but in the meantime, mull over these images and try to expand your understanding.

05.29.06

Our UBC Find of the Week is a Pedigree Certificate from Hudson Kennels in Hudson, MA. The certificate was completed for a Boston Terrier whelped in August 1935, and includes the dog's name, sex, stud-book number, color, and breeder. The certificate also lists the dog's lineage back to its 16 great-great-grandstuds and granddams. I can decipher almost none of these names, but I believe one of his great-great-granddams was named Ben Horton's Peach, and his dam's name was Silk. The one piece of information conspicuously missing from the certificate is the dog's owner, who apparently held Boston Terriers in very high esteem because they kept the proof of pedigree tucked into their copy of The Ideal Boston Terrier, described above.

05.15.06

Our UBC Find of the Week is a postcard mailed on April 30 1953 from New York, NY. Mary wrote to her friend Annie, "This sky line looked very nice when we came into the harbor. (Staten Island Ferry) Saw 9 TV shows already - besides Radio City Music Hall. Have tickets for Guys & Dolls. Will need a rest after this vacation."

I'm fascinated by Mary's recounting that she'd seen 9 tv shows. Would this be because she didn't have a tv at home and was watching television for the first time in her hotel? Or was she visiting tapings? Either way, at least she didn't have to put up with prescription drug commercials. And I hope she enjoyed Guys & Dolls.

05.08.06

Our UBC Find of the Week is a little pamphlet put out by Filenes that illustrates the Arlberg Technique, "the only correct ski technique." It illustrated 5 dry ski exercises, so that you can practice your form from the comfort of your living room. You can perfect The Schneepflug while not missing one episode of Lost! Each page includes an illustration of how to practice the posture by yourself, how the posture would look on skis, and a disastrous example of someone who obviously did not practice enough. Full of helpful tips like "It's all in the knees!" this pamphlet will ensure that, with careful practice during the warmer months, you'll never fall on your face again

04.24.06

Our UBC Find of the Week is a traffic violation issued on August 17 1968. Although prosaic and overly civic-looking at first, a delightful little piece of history unfolds when you piece together the details. The first thing that struck me as odd was that the operator is listed as William Groper, but the owner of the car is Joyce Groper. Wouldn't the car usually be listed under the man's name in 1968? Ah, but then I saw that William's date of birth was May 31 1951. Seventeen years old and driving mom's white Mercury through a red light at 10.05pm - boys will be boys. To add insult to traffic violation, William's license had been issued on July 3 1968. Oh, Willie, you have a license for 6 weeks and you're already running reds. Luckily, Captain Gordon McMullin was sympathetic to the boy and let him off with a warning.

Not that a real ticket would have been tragic, however, as we can see from the back that the fine for this violation is $5. Five lonely bucks.

04.17.06

To answer burning questions such as, "What is the difference between jelly, jam, and marmalade?" our UBC Find of the Week is a pamphlet of recipes from Elderberry Jelly to Rhubarb & Strawberry Jam put out by Certo Fruit Pectin in 1974. I've made my own applesauce, but that's about as far as me and homemade fruit products go. Perhaps that is because I've never had Certo, which appears to be the key ingredient to all 61 recipes.

04.10.06

Our UBC Find of the Week is dedicated to those of you who will spend Friday night doing your taxes. The front is a typed note, dated Monday April 14, 1975, which reads, "Dear Pat - Here are a couple of the form you are missing - the Federal Tax Form. Please fill one out and return it to the Art Dept. Humanities Division (rest of address is on envelope). Your check will then be processed and sent to you at NIH." Let's hope Pat got that check 31 years ago, and that all Pat's Federal Tax Forms are in line.

Pat obviously had other things on his/her mind, though, because on the back of the note is a shopping list, which lists

INK

Bubblebath

Cologne

neutrogena soap

Shampoo

conditioner k????

bla nightgown

deod.

Doesn't seem like Pat really had Federal Tax Forms on the brain that April.

04.03.06

Our UBC Find of the Week is cut out from the October 6, 1940 New York Times. On one side is a series of 3 pictures of "Glories of the Ancient World."

On the other side is a layout of pictures from the World's Fair. They show a man being shot out of a cannon, members of the Art Students League painting bathing-suit clad models at the Perisphere, and a group of motorists raing early model cars in the Court of Peace.

Underneath them is an advertisement for Beech-Nut Coffee, illustrated with a picture of Mrs. Pat O'Brien sitting at the breakfast table (in her wedding dress?), exasperated at her husband's dislike of their mediocre coffee. Buy Beech-Nut Coffee today!!!

03.27.06

Our UBC Find of the Week is a little unique this time around. Usually we find scraps of paper, photos, old bookmarks, et cetera, but this find came inside a tub of books. The customer dropping it off was rather eager to get rid of the tub en masse, citing a "breakup thing." So we took the tub of books, and lo and behold in the bottom was this Kirkland holiday bears Christmas ornament collection. These holiday bears are playing Santa, pushing strollers, eating apples, riding a sawhorse - you name the zany fun, these bears are having it.

The things is, we're not Christmas Bearsmith, and we really don't need these ornaments. So if you'd like to give these eight delightful bears a home for the holidays, come in and get 'em.

03.20.06

This particular UBC Find of the Week is extra close to my fiction-lovin' heart, because I found it last night in a copy of Ghostwritten by David Mitchell that I had recently picked up in the UBC. David Mitchell is far and away my favorite author writing today - he makes me believe in fiction again. I strenuously suggest you read Ghostwritten, Cloud Atlas, and the soon-to-be-published Black Swan Green. But first enjoy this little poem, written down and tucked between the pages of Ghostwritten.

"If only, if only," the woodpecker sighs,
"The bark on the tree were as soft as the skies."
While the wolf waits below, hungry & lonely,
crying to the moon, "if only, if only."
If only, if only, the moons speaks no reply;
Reflecting the sun & all thats gone by.
Be strong my weary wolf, turn around boldly.
Fly high, my baby bird, my angel, my only.

03.13.06

Please join me in loving our UBC Find of the Week. This little square(esque) scrap of wrapping paper was obviously cut out to be used as a gift enclosure tag. The paper is cute, and the cutting job quaintly abstract, but I love the inscription on the other side.

"To: IMT; From: A bunch of folks who like to run around on stage in underware."

A) The irony that the wrapping paper shows little kids bundled up for the cold, and the inscription is about being in underware.

B) The suspicious lack of the word "their" in front of underware. These folks are running around in underware, but it might not be their own.

C) Who/What is IMT? A person's initials? A government organization? A secret club?

Luckily, we have a clue. This note was actually found in Ballet Art, the book I described a moment ago. Presumably, these were ballet students taking a self-deprecating jab at themselves. Ballerinas can be so wacky.

03.06.06

The UBC Find of the Week is this postcard from Atlantic City. It seems harmless enough - the blue sky, peaceful seashore, "Greeting from Atlantic City, N.J." But I find the picture a bit troubling. It appears that the little tyke has pushed someone underwater, and is doing nothing about it other than waving her hands in some sort of fluster. The bottom of the card says, "Hoping to see you again soon," and Andrea theorizes this is supposed to mean that the girl who pushed her companion underwater hopes to see them again soon - i.e. hopes they don't drown. Don't you find this troubling? Why doesn't she lend a hand? Why can't the person get up? Nothing says "I'm in Atlantic City and I miss you" like "Oops, I think I just drowned someone, I'll wave."

On September 2, 1941, however, someone thought this card was quite appropriate and mailed it to Walter in Chester, PA. It cost $.02.

02.27.06

At first sight, our UBC Find of the Week is just a plain pink paper placemat. An alliterative treasure, I grant you, but nothing to put in a hope chest. Really just a pink placemat.

But then on the back, we find hand-drawn guides to musical conducting for a variety of time signatures, expressivo and non-expressivo. One wonders if two men, slightly bored at an 8-year-old girl's birthday party, began to debate over the best way to conduct Canon in D.

02.20.06

Our first UBC Find of the Week is this business card from a restaurant in Paris. My high school French doesn't permit me to tell you the name of it, but I can tell you that "Restaurant de Poissons" means Fish Restaurant. Whether this is a restaurant that serves fish to its patrons, or a restaurant where fish are its patrons is unclear, especially because of the large fish, with a red waistcoat and general look of savoir faire, pictured eating from the lavish table.

But, according to the map on the back, there are three convenient locations in the city of lights! If you ever go there, drop me a line and tell me how it is.

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