THE EIGHTIETH PAGE

My road needs were simple: toothbrush, maps, razor, used bookstore guide, laptop, manuscript cartons of unread manuscripts, Benadryl, instant-drying underwear, and a very special floppy disk--more of which anon, unless you want to go directly to page 93 and miss the adventures along the road.

I went down to the basement and flattened several corrugated cartons for storage of my purchases in the back of the Toyota. I’d learned long ago that the used grocery bags given me by used book dealers didn’t hold up after a few miles of jostling in my red wagon. There is little more disconcerting than to find your new-found treasures scuffed and torn at journey’s end. Condition was less important on this outing, but there would be no doubt I would find editions worthy of careful preservation. So, also included in the caravan was a pile of plastic jacket covers as employed by libraries and any collector who affects care for his bibliophilic aggregations. This instant protection has many times saved my books.

So with an open heart and a full tank of gas, I headed down the hill, through the town, and toward the open road.