Of All The Charlie Brown's In The World. . .

Entry 1

Abby is doing well. While clearly getting orientation fatigue--it ends today and classes begin tomorrow-she is still excited and ready for classes to start.

I awoke this morning in the deepest melancholy. It will pass. The same happened yesterday, I actually wrote

Bunghole Liquors.

about it but didn't post for fear people would urge me to call the crisis line. I know this shall pass, because by yesterday afternoon my funk was worked through and I was fine. It's going to be 85 today and I am going to go get coffee, two good things that will get me up and out of bed.

Entry 2 3:44 p.m.

It has been a day of wandering and exploring old books. This morning, after my standard venti with cream at a nearby Starbucks, we meandered around down amongst the tall buildings, until we came across the location where Wm. Lloyd Garrison published The Liberator. It was serendipity, I wasn't looking for it, but having found it, I was quite pleased.

After that we made our way, with purpose, to Commonwealth Bookstore and Prints at 9 Spring Lane, quite in the thick of things with respect to Revolutionary War historical sites. The

From Lynd Ward's
"Mad Man's Drum."

place was teeming with historical detritus, and I had to check myself to keep from buying everything I touched, from blueprints of buildings I love, an early 20th century Great Northern Railroad pamphlet on Glacier, Mt., to pictures of Venice, complete with gondolas and the Rialto Bridge from 1888. I settled on one thing, and found it quite early in the time I was there, a woodblock picture from author Lynd Ward's wordless novel about a slave trader who murders someone and the fate that befalls him as a result. Called Madman's Drum and published in 1930, it is considered a precursor to the modern graphic novel. We must have been there two hours, easily. My favorite thing, when looking at old books is finding things inside the books that don't belong. Well-done doodles in a children's text, for instance, or a note or letter hidden away in a book's pages are often better than the books themselves. I found a few such items, and after looking at a few, purchased the woodcut print and we were on our way.

We went walking again and found a place to grab lunch. Across the street from the restaurant was the Brattle Book Shop. Boston is a dangerous

place for me. We made quick work of our food and were soon crossing the street to look at all the books outside on sale for a mere $5 each. I promised myself I would buy only one and, remarkably, did not renege.

A massive assortment of books stood unguarded and apparently, although unclear the place to pay was inside the store, as I witnessed person after person choose books and then go inside the store to pay. I found a decrepit old

thing called Film Flashes, a vanity project of D.W. Griffith's wife made closely on the heels of his monstrous film, "Birth of a Nation." The book is a compendium of stars and their activities circa 1914. It's layout, pictures and filler make it seem more like a yearbook than a proper book.