Meet the Author Day at the Local Library

 

 

 

Author:  the writer of a literary work (such as a book)

: one that originates or creates something…………………Definition - Miriam Webster Dictionary

 

While composing this essay, I found it difficult to read my notes because of the water but more on that later. 

 

In early April I accepted an invitation to participate in a “Local Author Meet and Greet” at our area library on May 20.  Author? Moi?  Well, I guess I am an author, but it sounds strange.

I filled out some forms, submitted them via email and that was it. On May 19 I received a call from Mary Ann, the  librarian, asking me to arrive between 12 and 12:45. I arrived at 12:10 for the 1p.m. to 4 p.m. session.  Much to my disappointment, there were no tents outside the library for people who had camped all night to be first in and get a signed copy of my book, nor were there any lines of people extending into the parking lot.  There were no lines and all.  In fact, there were no people. The parking lots were empty but for three cars: the librarian’s, mine and one other. I knew there would be more cars because there would be six authors.  Yes, the joy of six. 

 

Earlier that morning I felt a minor itch on my face. Absentmindedly, I scratched it. Post scratch I thought, “oy vey, could it be a mosquito bite?”  It wasn’t a mosquito bite.  It was two mosquito bites.  Big ones. They were right next to each other on my chin so from a distance, say one foot or so, they looked like one enormous zit.  I looked and felt like a 16-year-old on the morning of the Junior Prom, only now I had to go face the public with an itchy face.  

 

First thing to do was set up my table display. Each six ft long table had three chairs, one for the local author and two on the opposite side for the visitors.  I’m sure had people known that there were only two chairs per table there would have been those lines outside waiting to get in.  It could have looked like Walmart opening the doors on Black Friday.  I had brought  six copies of The Man With Three Arms and Other Stories, single copies of the March, April, May, and June Gnus Almanacs (with each running to 700 plus pages, they are a bit heavy), 10 copies each of the essays, “Scientists Review the Gnus Almanacs” and “Praise for The Man With Three Arms”….., 10 single pages of my website and blog site ( 72 font), for people to take with them, my laptop and a bag of corks . This being my first Meet the Author day, without being too obvious I cast surreptitious glances at the tables of the other authors for hints on how to set up my table for the optimum visitor experience. Some had books stands, there was one with a cardboard box, and everyone had multiple copies of their books. 

 

The laptop was set for my blog, Bloggish Blether, so visitors could see a sample of my recent essay, Ghost Writers in the Sky, which examines the phenomenon of dead authors continuing to produce books after becoming deceased. Unfortunately, I forgot to change the sleep time on the laptop and after every 10 minutes it went into screen saver mode and people would see my screen saver picture of the liverwurst hero sandwich I had last summer.  It is a view of an open sandwich with the Boars Head liverwurst on one side and my artistic splashes of Gray Poupon mustard on the other side.  There are two spears of Boars Head kosher dill pickles next to the sandwich and a bottle of orange soda, because orange soda should be paired with liverwurst to complete the culinary and photographic masterpiece.   Since the laptop was facing outwards towards the audience and I was behind it, I was unaware of liverwurst display screen saving mode activation until about 30 minutes into the session.  A gentleman asked me the meaning of the picture on my laptop. Whoops!  I had to get up and walk around to the front of the table put in my password and log myself in again.  Rinse and repeat several times as I kept neglecting to keep the screen active until I just shut the thing off and put the laptop away. I was the only one with a laptop anyway, probably the only one who likes liverwurst.  Suffice to say, the laptop failed to enhance the table browsing experience. The “review” essays were up front in the middle of the table and the corks were on the left.   Why corks? You may ask. This former science teacher trainer always brought an “interactive activity” to every presentation, and I thought this would make for an interesting experience for visitors.  The cork drop activity is based on Archimedes’ center of gravity principle.  One holds the cork horizontally above a flat surface and drops it.  The object is to have the cork land on an end. I provided a demonstration sheet taped to the table with Margaret’s hand showing the position of the cork pre drop. That took up a bit of space and so the table was crowded with materials even without the laptop. 

The other authors included the head of the local historical society who has written historical novels based on “real life incidents”, a gentleman promoting his book  of “dark, violent teenage angst” (he was the one with the cardboard box of books), a husband and wife with their books Birds of Pennsylvania and Birds of Vermont,  the co-author of Real Time Parenting, a guide to parenting,  and a popular local author, but I never got a closeup look at her display. The “dark violent “guy was an unabashed salesman, giving out books on said teenage girl angst advising that they were “dark and violent”. He repeated it quite a few times. Evidently, he needed some number of reviews in Amazon to achieve some algorithm that was unclear, but we were advised that all his reviews were 4 and 5 star so we presume there is an audience for “dark and violent” teenage girl angst. We all got a book.  I put mine in my box behind the table. The bird people had a large fold out pop-up bird book with bird calls as their centerpiece.  It was a jungle motif although I’m not sure how that fit in with Birds of Pennsylvania and Vermont. We were treated to a cacophony of chirps, chips, buzzes, tweets and caws while I looked around for Tarzan and Cheetah to arrive. Mercifully, while keeping the book open, they turned off the hooting and screeching. 

 

If you’ve ever seen a job fair, there was a resemblance to a job fair.  We all sat behind our tables and visitors sat on chairs (two were provided) in the front of the table facing us as if we were conducting interviews. Turnout was, shall we say, underwhelming.  25 people over three hours. By 2:00 I was bored. My notes say, “please make it end”. I eventually I realized that everyone, including me, had the same spiel when a new person came to the table, so I heard, “based on a real life duel”, “there are several kinds of hummingbirds”, “dark and violent”, and “see the child in front of you” quite a few times.  Just like the other authors heard “hold the cork like this…..” fairly often. 

 

The Cork Challenge was a bit of a success. The corks were attention grabbers.   Everyone who visited my display was instructed to give it a try. I would hold up the bag of corks and say “we went out to dinner last night and got these”.  This got me some strange looks. I also gave everyone a free hint for success.  Our friend Karen came by.  After a dozen or so tries and fails, she accused me of having defective corks, bid farewell for the time being and went to visit other authors before returning, determined to succeed.  Success!  The prize for dropping the cork correctly was that you get to keep the cork. Some people did but Karen said she already had plenty of corks at home and turned down the fabulous prize. Mary Ann, the librarian had a few tries before we opened to the public but, alas, failed.  She came back about an hour later, sat down, and said, “I’m going to get this” and so she did although she also turned down the prized of a free cork. 

 

You may recall the list of items I had carefully and thoughtfully placed on display.  There was also a glass of water which had been added during one of my moments of boredom.  Note that it was during another of those moments that I decided to turn the experience into an essay. I got to get up, walk across the room, fill the glass at the refreshment table and then walk back. Yes, it was that tedious at times. 

 

During one break between visitors, I visited the author at the next table.  She had co-written a book on parenting. We discussed parenting and, in my case, grandparenting.  It was quite interesting, and she gave me a copy of her book which can be a very effective tool for parents and I’ll give it to my son and daughter in law for grandson advice.  I gave her a copy of The Man With Three Arms……. and went back to my table, straightened out some handouts and knocked over my full glass of water.  There was a lot of water.  There was a lot of table for it to cover and it was doing its best.  Embarrassing? Yes, but apparently no one had noticed so I pretended it never happened.  However, it did happen and like the rising waters of a river flooding over its banks after a heavy rain, the liquid slowly oozed across the table from left (my “review handouts”), past my notes, below my book samples, thank goodness and inexorably towards my computer at the other end.  I was doing well at pretending nothing happened, I think, and nonchalantly, but quickly crossed the room and grabbed 2 handfuls of napkins from the refreshment table – cookies, bags of popcorn, and apple juice - and brought them back for H2O containment.  I was surprised had how much water was lapping against one of my folders and how many napkins it took to restore order. It required a second nonchalant trip across the room. The laptop and books were saved but I evidently missed a couple of spots and so when our friend Jan arrived shortly afterwards, she showed me a copy of an article I had written for this month’s Village View, “Decoration Day = Memorial Day.” I announced I would sign it and placed it on the table………….in one of the remaining puddles.  She quickly, but not quickly enough, grabbed the now sodden paper exclaiming “look, the ink is running”.  “Just like the water”, I thought.  I apologized profusely and told her I would get another copy of the article since I knew the author. By now page one of my pages of notes to write this essay was also a victim of the flood and one large mushy blur as were several website pages.

 

There are three rules for writing the book. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.” W. Somerset Maugham……………

 

My handouts included “Reviews of “Man………” by such notables as Homer, Shakespeare, Dickenson and Hemingway among others. Hemingway said “it’s better than dying…….alone in the rain”.  There were also copies of Scientists Review The Gnus   which included such notables as Galileo, Albert Einstein, Marie Curie and several others including Hemingway, even though he wasn’t a scientist, just because I like the rain quote. Everyone who came to the table got a copy.  I gave one to a friend who purchased my book a few months ago.  She perused the “Reviews” sheets but clearly not carefully and said, “where’s my name?” among the reviewers.  It wasn’t on the list of reviewers. Another friend asked her to read more vigilantly, and she was no longer concerned when she read the complete list again.  She kept her copy.

Our friends, Jerry and Marie, Bill and Kelley, and Jan and Rich came and went. I thanked them all for coming down the mountain into town. All had been to lunch first, so I wasn’t the top priority of their afternoon.  Jerry said he and Marie had been at First Place diner for lunch and he had a Cuban sandwich. I wondered if the Cuban objected. After this they were going to the local garden center “to get dirt” according to Jerry.  Thinking of priorities, I thanked him for placing me below the Cuban sandwich and above the dirt in their afternoon schedule.

 

It ain’t whatcha write, it’s the way atcha write it.”—Jack Kerouac,

 

Karen, thrilled with her cork drop success, purchased a book for her friend which I, of course, inscribed which was when I learned that my Sharpie was medium point, not fine point so the inscription looked a bit thick and blurry.  I had brought the Sharpie because I had read somewhere that authors use Sharpies to sign their books.  This may or may not be true but don’t use a medium point if you do. I signed a the newest edition of Man…….for Kelley who had been the first to purchase the first edition of The Man ………. My inscription read, “This One is Better. “.  I sold and signed a book to visitors Dave and Candi.  I spelled Candy with a y and she was shaking her head as I looked up and said, “you got it wrong, it should be an i”.  I apologized. She said it was “O.K”.  I said, “no it isn’t” and crossed out the y at the end of her name, wrote “I” and then penned “it should have been an i” and signed my name. 

Several visitors asked where Margaret was.  As I left home, she had informed me that she could spend the afternoon cooking – she prepares delicious meals that we can eat over a period of weeks - or come down to visit me. This was her subtle way of telling me she wasn’t coming. 

The choice was easy.

By 3:30 it was just five of us authors, the “dark, violent” guy had left around 2:30, and so we were enjoying exchanging anecdotes and ISBN number stories. The local Fire Department was having a fund-raising Chicken BBQ that afternoon and we began to wonder if perhaps our low turnout could be attributed to people preferring BBQ chicken to books.  Then we wondered if there would be anymore chicken left when we were done at 4:00.  I tried to reassure everyone that they had an ample supply of gerbils if they ran out of chicken.  I got some strange looks and they were not reassured.  Just when we thought “that’s it” for the session, the head, Chair? President? Grand Poobah? Of the Library board showed up and so we all had to repeat our spiels ……..“based on a real life duel”, “there are several kinds of hummingbirds”, “dark and violent”, and “see the child in front of you” one more time even though she was not going to purchase anything.  I was 2^nd to last as she worked her way around the room counterclockwise, and she probably wanted to get to the Chicken BBQ before they broke out the gerbils. She stood there nodding at my “daily events over the last 2,000 years or so”. She was interested in the corks, however.  Everyone was interested in the corks. While she was busy with a halfhearted try at the cork, I noticed a few soggy napkins on the table which disintegrated when I tried to pick them up and landed on Scientists Review the Gnus. No one noticed. As it was now time to pack up and leave, I used them to wipe off the table when my books were back in the carrying box.  

 

All my handouts were handed out, other than the victims of the water glass deluge.  I still had almost all the corks although one woman took three.  Sitting around for three hours or so can be wearing and so at 4:00, tired but relieved that it was over, all of us authors said how nice it was to meet each other and then said our goodbyes. I drove home and completely forgot to go to the Chicken BBQ. I understand they did well.

 

Reading your stories is like talking to you……………..reader to John Cafarella.

 

 

The Water in the Main Should Stay Mainly in the Drain

 

Thousands have lived without love, not one without water.

W. H. Auden

 

The technical definition of a leak is a gradual loss of liquid (in this case water) from a system. A leak, if left unattended, can cause serious damage to property and pipes and people, and eventually lead to worse leaks.

 

People blame me because these water mains break, but I ask you, if the water mains didn’t break, would it be my responsibility to fix them then? WOULD IT!?!”

— Marion Barry

 

Our annual winter sojourn to Hilton Head Island in South Carolina to escape the cold and snow of the Poconos.  We can be outside. Bike rides on the beach. Reading in the sun. We love it. 

Last week, we received notice that there would be no water for 2 hours on Tuesday.  A “leak” needed to be repaired. It was January. The sun was shining.  It was warm.  Yes, we could weather this storm. The development in which we rent the townhouse is 50 years old. We know this because the next notice indicated the broken water main pipe was 50 years old and installed when they built the development, and they don’t make ‘em like that anymore.  An extensive pipe search was launched seeking a replacement pipe. After a presumably successful conduit quest, we received an email indicating that the break was worse than anticipated. It would “require major, extensive and expensive repairs.”  A temporary fix allowed leaking water to flow until they were ready to resume work.  Evidently the hundreds of gallons of leaking water would be drained into the grassy area behind the swimming pool.  There was no mention of the possible the installation of a 2^nd diving board for the new swamp/pool “fun” area created by the leaking water where the grassy area used to be. Overjoyed at the prospect of a new swamp, an alligator consulted a Reptile Real Estate Agent regarding possible residence. After all, a condominium development would offer an unlimited source of food. 

 

A week later, a notice was posted on the mailboxes that “the water will be turned off at 11 a.m. on Friday in order to continue repairs.  Water will be off for 2-4 hours.”  The water was turned off promptly at 11 a.m.  Seven hours later we received another email: “In conjunction with Pines Plumbing we have worked since 11:00 am today to resolve the broken water main behind building #7.  The project is extremely difficult due to the location of the break which is under the courtyard walls that separate units. Unfortunately, the leak cannot be sufficiently repaired tonight and we will have to keep the water off until sometime on Saturday. The leak is too great and even with sump pumps removing the water we have a VERY STRONG risk of flooding the units in building 7 and possibly undermining the building itself and even the pool. We certainly regret telling you that there will be NO water in the entire complex tonight.  After discussing the situation, the Board of Directors has made this difficult decision. We will keep you posted on the progress on Saturday.” Oy vey! Little did we know it would in fact be 33.5 hours. 

 We prepared as best we could. Earlier in the day we had filled every large pot and vessel we could find with tap water to see us through the crisis. We stocked up on drinking water.  We identified the closest public bathrooms – 200 yds at the Adventure Park and 3/10 of a mile at the shopping plaza respectively. Margaret said, “don’t think about it”.  All I did was think about it. Shortly after receiving this email saying no water until Saturday, miraculously, around 8 p.m., the water came on.  Rejoicing all over the land. Aquatic Festivals were held honoring Neptune.  Dishes were washed.  Toilets used. Toilets flushed. Faces washed.  Teeth brushed.  We didn’t get around to refilling the pots because, unfortunately, 15 minutes later, the water went off again and that was it for the night. No gasping gurgle, no blast of air from emptying pipes, just turn the faucet and ……..silence.  Well actually there was a pathetically weak dribble for a few seconds. On Saturday morning we witnessed a parade of people from our development marching to and from the public toilets those 200 yards away to the Adventure Park across the street. Later, while taking out the trash I encountered a couple who asked me if I knew when the water would be restored.  Of course, I didn’t but we commiserated for a few minutes and they informed me that “We’re from New Jersey.  In New Jersey they would have worked all night”.  

Later that morning, a gentleman knocked on our door to give us the latest update.  It was not good. Evidently, the water main and pipes are under the exterior patio walls of the affected units.  No machinery could be used.  Digging had to be done the old-fashioned way, by hand.   Plastic shovels and pails? This would take time.  When asked (do you think we were the only ones to ask this?) if he expected the water to return today (Saturday), the answer was “I hope so”. We asked him to relay our thanks to the workers and the Board for their efforts. He also informed us that the brief reappearance of water the previous night was unauthorized.  Someone with plumbing knowledge had taken it upon themselves to turn on the water. The “Board” had to contact Hilton Head Public Works to turn off the water at the source ensure the water would stay off less the affected homes be flooded. 

 

A historical perspective to our problem as one of the first things one thinks of when there is no water is toilets.  Fortunately, we have a brief survey of the flushing toilet in our Science Gnus essay: Getting a Handle on the Flush Toilet: The popular myth is that Thomas Crapper invented the toilet. Nope! Although Crapper filed nine toilet-related patents from 1881 to 1896, the aptly named gent did not invent the modern flush toilet. Sir John Harington was flushed with success 300 years earlier with his water closet design, Harington sold the commode to his godmother, Queen Elizabeth I, who had the first one installed in Richmond Palace.  In 1775, London watchmaker Alexander Cummings filed the first flush toilet patent. By the time Crapper took a seat, the original flush toilet had undergone a series of improvements, including its S-curved water piping to trap odors (Alexander Cummings), a chain-operated flushing device (Joseph Bramah) and a pressurized siphon flush system that effectively carried excrement from toilet bowl to sewage pipes (Joseph Adamson). Crapper became widely associated with toilets when as he wisely put his name on his wares.  And, just in case you were wondering, in 1896, Scott Paper Co. began marketing the first rolls of toilet paper.

And because you should know and because you probably never thought about it, we present a brief account of the development of water mains for after dinner discussions, social occasions and idle chatter while floating in swimming pools: The first known underground water mains were constructed by the Minoans, who were famous for worshipping minnows, around 2200 BC. They, the watermains, not the Minoans, were made from terracotta and supplied water to the Palace of Knossos on Crete. These water mains of Knossos may have been over 1,000 years ahead of their time, but they didn’t have motion detector lights so we’re even as you’ll see. The Roman Empire with its aqueducts, which were constructed both above and below ground between 312 BC and 455 AD enhanced water main technology. These aqueducts used gravity flow to bring water from miles away into the cities to Rome’s distribution reservoirs, from which the water was transported to fountains and baths. Many pipes were, unfortunately, made of lead.  The lead may be why so many Romans were affected by lead poisoning which caused them to wear togas, eat lying on couches, feed Christians to the lions, and have a large assortment of insane emperors and then assassinate them with some regularity. 

 

Wooden pipes replaced lead and were still in use 16th and 17th century Europe, as well as in 18th century North America but wooden pipes had some major drawbacks such as a tendency to rot as well as attracting bugs which could result in having a glass of termites with water in it. Then lead pipes made a comeback in the 1800s due, in part, to their low cost and durability. But, just like in Rome, lead water mains caused an epidemic of lead poisoning, but now it was looney monarchs and politicians and The War of Jenkins’ Ear, and by the 1920s there were many cities that were outlawing the use of lead pipelines to transport drinking water.

 

It was time for one of the more underappreciated inventions of our modern era. The creation of ductile iron. Ductile Iron is a type of cast iron known for its impact and fatigue resistance, elongation, and wear resistance. Keith Millis, a metallurgical engineer and pioneer in the foundry industry is credited with creating ductile iron while attempting to find alternatives for strengthening iron during World War II.  Still, ductile iron can corrode over time and needs to be replaced. This led to the introduction of polyvinyl chloride plastic pipe, more commonly known as PVC piping. It remains one of the most commonly used supply line materials today. PVC was discovered twice. The first time was 1838 by French physicist Henri Victor Regnault.  Then it was discovered again in 1872 by German chemist Eugen Baumann. Neither man followed up on the breakthrough, so no one knew there was a breakthrough. Then, in 1913, German inventor, Friedrich Heinrich August Klatte took out the first patent on the material. Widespread use of PVC pipes began during the 1950s. 

 

As for faucets, they, like water mains go back to those minnow worshipping Minoans as plumbing and spout fixtures were used as early as 1700 B.C. at Knossos.  Until recently fixtures were basic. They had two spouts – one for hot water and the other for cold water. Then along came Al Moen who in 1937 single handedly invented the single the single-handle faucet, which mixes hot and cold water before it exits the fixture. WWII intervened and they did not come into widespread use until 1950. And then, dramatically, on September 22, 1976, came the introduction of the Farah Fawcett.

 

………. “Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink”……. The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,

Samuel Taylor Coleridge 

 

And so we flow back to our current H2O crisis. Years ago, when I traveled around the country as a science education consultant, I preferred sitting in the window seats during flights. I enjoyed looking out the window and studying the topography.   Sadly, I developed Window Seat Syndrome. As soon as I sat in the window seat, I would feel the need to use the bathroom, especially if someone took the aisle seat. Thoughts of potential bathroom use would linger throughout the flight, and I monitored the progress of the food and beverage carts as well as lines for the bathroom with regularity.  I sit in aisle seats now. 

The Window Seat Syndrome made a dramatic comeback on Friday as soon as I understood that bathroom use would be, shall we say, limited, I knew I would have to use the bathroom.  It remained so throughout the day.  Still no water the next day as Saturday dawned.   Margaret reminded me “don’t think about it”. So, I spent a good part of the day thinking about not thinking about it.  While not thinking about it, after breakfast I did not eat nor drink until dinner time. Keeping myself occupied while not thinking about it, I would desultorily pull down the flush handle each time I walked by the bathroom. Sometimes in each direction because, you know, just in case.   I was not thinking about thinking successfully until about 5:30. The hot salsa and chips and extra sharp cheddar cheese before dinner was not one of my better ideas. Didn’t really think through the consequences because I was not thinking about it.  Later,  after dinner, I thought about it.  Better go now rather than need to go at 11 p.m. or worse, 3 a.m. Even though I was not thinking about it, the call of the wild to the public restrooms was irresistible. Telling Margaret “I’ll be right back” I sallied forth in the dark…..very dark…… to the closest public restrooms at the aptly named Adventure Park hoping they were still open.  The iPhone flashlight led the way.  When I arrived at the oasis, I recalled that Margaret had told me they closed “at dusk”.  This was January. This was not dusk.  This was night.  Darkest night. When was dusk in January? I located the building successfully and then located the door that said “Men” and tentatively, nay, fearfully tried the handle.  There was one of those coded lock pads on the door adding to my angst. Mercifully the door opened!  I stepped into the pitch black (no windows) room.  I held the door open using ambient light and the flashlight while looking for the light switch. I pushed several white rectangles on the wall that could have been light switches, but none was a light switch.  It remained dark until I discovered that there is a motion detector light.  It comes on after what seemed like an inordinately long time when one has a sense of urgency in pitch black darkness.  It came on just 5 seconds after I walked into the sink and bashed my hip. Now, suddenly, I was bathed in blinding light.  Whew.  Of course, then I commenced to worrying that park workers might come and lock the door while I was in there.  Really, you would not want to live in my brain.  With my stressful mission accomplished and now much relaxed, I started back home.  It turned into a journey fraught with peril as even with the flashlight and even though I run and or ride the bike on those paths every day, I got lost. Dark.  There is a pond between the Adventure Park and our development.  Last year an alligator lived in it. Progress was very deliberate. A couple of glasses of wine consumed earlier with the salsa was not helpful to my orienteering.  I finally did a course correction when I found myself in the middle of the street about 20 yards from our entrance and arrived home safe and a bit bruised from my encounter with the sink. 

 

 A half hour later the water came back on.