My favorite day was whatever day of the week our homeroom class would walk down the hallway to the library to pick out a book to take home. This was an exciting day because it was like an indoor field trip. When we had the Scholastic Book Fair, that was like a vacation. Library days were also reverent and reminded me of walking into the church because we had to walk quietly and calmly. A thrilling day because I felt so many emotions, explored my senses, and made discoveries that I would keep and take with me forever and always. How did I know which book would be mine that week? That was easy; I was a cover lover.

This is also why I have put a great deal of energy into my own book covers: BASEBALL DREAM, SUPER LOVE, and GREAT PURPLE GRAPES. You can tell much about a book from its cover despite the popular belief that you cannot.  If the cover looked awesome or intriguing, I’d go for it. It also was something about the touch; if the book felt good and had a good shape, size, and weight, those would be a plus. It was like looking at photos of Disney, knowing you wanted to visit by just the looks of it. Even clothes you wear, feeling the material, or a blanket, if it doesn’t feel good, you don’t want to wear it on you. Food, if it does not smell good, don’t eat it! I also recall when I was heading into JR. High & High School, when we got assigned our thick textbooks, we were asked to “cover” them. I selected the best side of the paper or made my own with a grocery sack and folded the corners nicely, neatly, and perfectly; I drew a design on its cover and felt that the book was now mine as I personalized it. Even though I never cared too much about reading those types of books back in those days,

Beyond size and color scheme, my other significant joys that lay so sweet in my memory bank were when I pulled a book from the shelf, cracked it open, smelled the pages, and studied the spine and the binding. I was in awe of the craftsmanship of the bookmaker and, in my own way, was thankful for those who do such a great job and take pride in their work. I could tell if it was vintage from the yellowish paper and smell of peculiarity. I enjoyed looking at the threads holding the pages to the spine, or sometimes there would be a little ball of yellowish glue from the pages glued to the spine. Some books were old, some new, and our teacher would steer us into the aisle to choose from. even though we didn’t have long to choose, I had an eye for what I wanted.

When the Scholastic Book Fair came to town, they handed out cartoon-type pages advertising which books would be sold, new releases, and photos of the covers. I was like the Loretta Lynn kids daydreaming of new shoes from the yearly Sears & Roebuck catalog, never knowing if you’ll get to buy something. I would circle what I wanted and show my mom. Often, I was turned down like Napoleon in Napoleon Dynamite when Uncle Rico took him shopping and made him put back the fun pack because they couldn’t afford it (except my mom was nicer about it). I usually was able to get a book marker or a sticker, but only once in a blue moon could I buy a book. But I remember what I wanted and what I didn’t get I was able to check out on those Library days.

Some books were Judy Blume’s TALES OF A 4^TH GRADE NOTHING and any of the Fudge series, Dr. Suess, Holly Hobby, and anything fun, funny, cute, and whimsical were my go-to, absolutely nothing serious, and Mad Libs I loved working those.

After all, for as long as I can remember, my family had an Encyclopedia Britannica set in our living room, a full set we rarely touched; it was like the only fancy art we had in our living room. Assembled with fine craftsmanship, I knew how to handle them with kid gloves. Plus, they smelled like my Great Grandma’s wooden house, like a cedar sauna and a mothball closet all in one… The books were covered in fine material; you could see the tightly sewn thread in each spine and the pages so fine packed full of writings in fine print, and each book weighed like a bar of gold. Some folks had beautiful furniture, fine curtains, carpet, elegant décor, or a new television. We had the Encyclopedia Set, and that was royalty enough for us.  Those books were packed like sardines on the bookshelf, and when you pulled one out to look at pictures of animals, a heaviness might get you, and the book may slip from your fingers, landing on your toes, and that hurt like dickens. But as those old books never got much airtime, the pages seemed to remain white, sharp, and sticky. You could even hear the crisp sound as one turned the corner of the page as it separated from the gold embossed lining. The gold made me feel rich, it was so pretty but so painful; they always seemed to give me a paper cut.  

Back at the school library, when I was asked to go check out the Dewey Decimal System, it made me feel important looking at those numbers with the dashes; I was learning codes, and maybe it would help me in math because I sucked there. I was also in awe at each signature upon signing the book out and how beautiful the Librarian drew in cursive with that number 2 LED pencil. I wish I were the one who could dip the rubber date stamper in that ink pad and press firmly and perfectly straight on those lines for check out. But I am glad I wasn’t the old lady who always frowned at me when handing me the book, it almost felt like she was cursing me or judging me with her eyes looking over her small spectacles, peering at me all night tipped as she ever so slowly steered the book into my hand. The Keeper of the Books was like being in the Twilight Zone, but the experience leading up to it was the original McDonald’s playland, without noise.

Anyhow, I don’t recall the librarian ever smiling; I also thought they lived there, and they weren’t real people, their hands were always cold, and the work was meticulous, and never a peep was allowed, or a giggle, the discipline in the library in my school/schools was intimidating. Also, the pep talk from our teacher was a bit frightening. Therefore, I enjoyed the parts I could and was in my own world, even though I would look over my shoulder now and again to see If she was trolling me. I don’t think I was liked much by librarians. Then again, I am not sure they liked anybody, Geesh. I am glad that didn’t curb my enthusiasm.

 The Dr. Suess books spoke to me well. My mind would jump into the pages like Green Eggs & Ham and that wild 3-prong fork. I never understood why Sam didn’t want to eat them. Dr. Suess made the pages appetizing, and I wanted to taste the eggs; they looked perfectly cooked! Finally, Sam gives in…I learned a bit about Sam’s personality in that story. It made for a good read, but come on, someone pushing you that hard with such faith and hope, give it a try.  I think Sam was a bit melancholy. The Cat was Sanguine. Had they known each other’s personalities better and knew the traits of each other’s being, this story would have been resolved much faster? I believe Dr. Suess shared all the pros of a thing, keeping a positive spin on an opportunity. To not procrastinate, I have embraced the idea that procrastination is the seed of self-destruction. Don’t put off today for tomorrow sort of karma; the time is at hand; seize the moment, the moment of truth, and the truth shall set you free!

The story would then be about the consequences of that choice (btw if you have not already read GREAT PURPLE GRAPES, this is a wonderful book about choice and consequence with loads of enthusiasm). I am not suggesting that one gives in by any means and compromises values or morals, and certainly not if one has food allergies. Diversity in food is good. I seemed to try the food in front of me as a kid, that is, except Sauerkraut! I despised it due to the smell and the look of it. It wasn’t until 2012, when I was visiting Germany that my son took me to the oldest restaurant, Historische Wurstküche zu Regensburg, which was built in 1135 AD (pretty cool). As we were parking the car 2 blocks away, I smelled the epic aroma; I wanted to eat the air. My mouth watered as we approached the little piece of smoking sausage history. The door opened, and we ordered and sat down, and when that kraut came with the sausage and bread, I devoured it! I finally tried Sauerkraut, and the consequence was I truly experienced a Geno Harmonic moment. I actually had to get seconds, which makes me want some right now!

I had eaten other things as an adult that I truly didn’t eat as a kid, like spinach, beets, liver, and onions, but now, if the smell is right and the presentation is spot on, I’m down to try it. So, we all can relate to Sam in one way or another, and we all can relate to the cat. But can we all relate to the Librarian? I hope not.

I have also read all types of books since my childhood; my favorite are History books. I also like books from antiquity, in fact my regimine is in the morning while eating my breakfast I will read books from the Apocraphya, I love these stories.

I have an idea for you; how about this week? Go to your local library and dive into the moment. Discover great finds, learn epic things, recount old memories, and read some books. Make it a field trip, then enjoy that story with a meaningful meal, and perhaps you, too, will have a Geno harmonic full experience!

Then, share in the comments what you avoided like the plague for food, your go-to books, and any memorable moments of your childhood library; I’d love to know!

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