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The Booksale: Part 1

Last weekend a couple of things happened:

• I turned 28 without pomp or circumstance, just like a big girl.  (In fact, there was so little pomp or circumstance it was almost like no birthday at all.  Next year?  I’m throwing a Big Ole Bash.)
• I play-fought my niece and nephew with the light saber app on my phone, and proceeded to build some of the most awesome Star Wars-related buildings out of legos. (I’ve never seen Star Wars, but I make a mean jail for the bad guys!)
• I lounged around in the sunshine and delightfully warm Arizona spring weather.
• I ate a freshly picked orange, it was one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.
• I slept on the asphalt of a parking lot in a pretty sketchy part of Phoenix, all in the name of love. (Book love, that is.)

Say whaaaat?

It’s true, friends.  You know how in the first 300 pages of the last Harry Potter book it seems that the only thing that is going on is one camping adventure after another?  I mean, I know there are MORE things that happen, but it’s all about the camping.  Last weekend I had my own mini-experience at modern, urban camping (without magic wands and a fancy house/tent).  I slept in a parking lot of a really sketchy part of Phoenix with approximately 50-1,000 frenemies. (Frenemies because we were all nice and chit-chatty before the sale started, but as soon as the doors opened it was every man, woman, or child for themselves.  I was not above throwing elbows to get the ONLY copy of the “Lonely Planet Italy” book.  Don’t judge me like that, it was $1.00!  One Dollar!)

Last year at the Booksale of Awesome my friend HRH and I decided that instead of waking up at o-dark-hundred to secure a place in line, we would simply camp out in the parking lot.  This was by far the best idea ever in regards to the booksale. We arrived at the Phoenix fairgrounds at midnight on Friday night, armed with a blow-up mattress, sleeping bags and two bags of snacks.

There were about 50-ish people ahead of us in line (this is MUCH better than last year, where there were probably 1,500 people ahead of us), we chit-chatted with our neighbors, two book dealers looking for treasures, and started making things cozy.

You’ll notice all these photos are really REALLY well lit.  The giant stadium-strength lights were on, keeping everything a lot less sketchy than the neighborhood would lead you to think.  Admittedly, it made it a bit trickier to fall asleep.  (Note for next year: bring eye mask.)

1:00 am, wide awake, no make up and hot pink mittens to keep my fingers warm.  It wasn’t terribly cold, in the low 40′s or something.  But I was really REALLY glad my older brother hooked. us. up. with his cold-weather camping gear.  And his SUV to haul it all back to his house.  And his guest room.  And his cooking skills.  And his hilarious off-spring (see Star Wars reference above).  And old movies to watch with his lovely wife.  He moonlights as my awesome older brother, but in Real Life he’s clearly a Rockstar. (Mucho gracias, #1!)

Doors opening in T-minus-7 hours.  I woke up about 5:45 Saturday morning–the lights were still insanely bright, but the line was starting to fill in with people (the line was up to about 1,000 at this point) who had no intention of sleeping.  There was laughing and talking and jostling and I had no hope of getting back to the Land of Nod.  HRH and I packed up our gear and pulled out the camp chairs and some breakfast (lunchable anyone?) to wait for another few hours before the doors opened.

Don’t judge. It was cold outside and the hot chocolate was too watery to make a difference.  At about 7:15 am we packed everything back to the car, got our respective lists in order, and tried to smooth down some really incredible bedhead. (Operation: success!)

At this point it was perhaps 10 minutes before the doors opened, I was starting to get a little antsy and anxious, like Christmas morning.  I had my list, both of books to look for and of books I already own.  I knew what sections I was going to visit first.  I had big plans to dash for a shopping cart, which is the most essential part of the sale as it enables you to toss in anything that looks remotely interesting and sort it all out later.  Coincidentally, this is how I ended up with 3 copies of “The Three Musketeers” before the sale was over.  I ended up bringing home the prettiest one, because I’m apparently really shallow like that.

8:00 am and it is GO TIME!  The door opened, HRH and I made our way inside and dashed to our respective sections.  She scooped up books in the Children’s section, while I raided the Travel section.  We totally got a shopping cart.  For the next two hours we skitted about, throwing in things that looked interesting, sorting out what we had, going back to make sure we’d gotten everything we wanted.  It was heaven.  To give you a little idea about how enormous this sale is, think of a giant warehouse that covers an entire acre of ground.  Now pack it full of 600,000 books and about 5,000 people.

This pic was taken from one end of the warehouse.  Ginormous, right?  And packed with all sorts of fantastic treasures.

Imagine this multiplied by about 100 and you have an idea of how many books we’re talking about.  What’s that line from Beauty and the Beast? “Books! Gads of books! Mountains of books! Forests of books! Cascades of books! Swamps of books! More books than you’ll ever be able to read in a lifetime! Books on every subject ever studied, by every author who ever set pen to paper…”  (As I was googling this exact quote, my own blog post about the Library of Congress popped up as the third option…I am nothing if not consistent.)

Last year I brought home 63 books, and this year I made an even more amazing haul!

That, my bibliophilic friends, is 94 books.  Ninety four!  I’m still working on the comprehensive list of what I brought home, which should be published tomorrow.  (It takes TIME to catalog all those titles, Mr. Braddy!)  But I’ll have you know that I spent less than I’d budgeted for and with just a LITTLE bit of suitcase jostling HRH and I flew all our books home without paying any baggage check fees.  (Thank you, Southwest, and your free baggage policies!)

(Ninety four!?!  Daaah!!  Sometimes, I amaze myself.)

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