"Can" B. Worth
Epilogue - Part Three
“All
good things come to an end”. One
day the sleuthing of the boxes did.
But not before unrecoverable damage had been done.
Damage? Yes. I admit it. I
understand it. I destroyed
something precious. I destroyed
Dead Can’s “boxes”. I will
demonstrate how I did this. I will
demonstrate my method. I will use
a “later, after enlightenment” box and show how I destroyed …Dead Can’s boxes…
by sleuthing THAT specimen box.
Eyeballed
by whimsical procedure in the darkish storage unit my eye would alight upon a
“that box”… during a whimsical visit to the unit on a …whimsical impulse to “do
another box” meaning sort through it to discover all the “good stuff” in it,
get that identified, gathered and off toward my commercial gain and… properly
prepare the remaining waste paper for eventual disposal. The boxes in focus for this are from
the large “middle period” of Dead Can’s book collecting era. They are from the time period AFTER he
stopped dabbling with old books and became a “serious” book collector
continuing along for years and years (decades) and over beyond those years
until Dead Can became “too old” “to collect” “anymore”. Don’t worry; he kept his hand in it to
the end; his dying day. These
boxes; this LARGE main mass of boxes… that Dead Can packed up himself, were
abundant, obvious to my eye, stacked and pack in a reverse order, sort of, of
how they’d been stacked and packed in the office and… super easy for me to
…with a “what’s on the menu?” appetizing delight… pull in and “grab one”. Phrased more crassly; “HAVING A BAD DAY
FINDING GOOD STUFF CHEAP? GO
THROUGH DRIVE THROUGH AT THE STORAGE UNIT AND GRAB A BOX OF DEAD CAN’S WHOPPERS
TO GO”. It was that easy to “make
money”; a “sure thing”.
A
box… and I admit to sometimes taking two …or THREE at a visit… was dollied to
the truck cab, loaded on to the passenger’s seat, driven to the office, dollied
to a sorting table, lifted up on to this table. And destroyed.
I
would strip the single tape strip off and lift the lid to find, IN EVERY BOX,
the very top layer to be …a wasteland assortment of Dead Can’s then current
papers. This wasteland assortment
of his papers continued downward to the bottom. In amongst this paper pile I found… rare books (or rare
books related) material carefully “there” between papers of paper piles after
papers of paper piles… all the way to the box’s bottom. “NO PROBLEM!”: Simply slowly and steadily remove the
paper mass carefully downward, uncover the next emerging rare book or rare book
ephemeral item and… keep going until I … “reached bottom”. The paper pile generally was piled in a
mound out before me on the sorting table, one mound at a time with the next
mound started when that mound started to …spill onto the floor. The rare books were stacked by
themselves. The ephemeral rare
books made their own stack. Once a
box was empty, THAT box was “chucked”, the paper piles were… dumped… into
another long-term-storage box and:
I would …whimsically… review my discoveries; my plunder.
These
rare books I would …rare bookseller quick eye nimble finger… “review”, denoting
the “good ones” and usually (“does it have the map?”) “collate” “it”. This is NOT done “up to code” (of ANY
rare bookseller’s associations or any library). It was just as it reads; “rape and pillage”.
(In
the photographs included showing the dissection of a specimen box… I am NOT
going to “go over” the books found and photographed. THE PHOTOGRAPHS are good enough to allow a rare book person
to be able to do that… just like I’d do that with my own two eyes described above. NO: One does not need ME to tell “Which one is the best
book?”. Get over it; the title of
this escapade is “Can” B. Worth”.
A hint? Maine Civil War. But that Coos narrative is very scarce
while the Eastman – White Mountain guide book is early. The Lincolnville Maine imprint is
unusual as are some others, the Farmington history is good too and “I Go Ah
Fishing” a classic “must read”.
The folded map is precious; it shows Small Point, Maine private sector
development. All good,
“rare”. And more.)
At
the end of this quadrille …of mere minutes… the music stopped and I sat down in
a chair with “good stuff” beside me.
I rested. I then gathered
up the plunder, scooted that off to rare-book-forever-land in MY “stock” and
humped another box of Dead Can’s papers off to “his pile” of “waste”. Nothing else happened, book after box,
except that as I lifted the paper waste out of the box I would usually inspect
“rare book” related paper items; business cards, receipts, flyers and …any
other “catch the eye” piece of paper such as Dead Can’s car repair bill, his
wife’s dentist bill, his kid’s Little League uniform receipt, his dog’s vet
bill, his wife’s family’s photographic Christmas card, his church donation
summary, his inter facility communications, his lawn mowing bill, his weekend
trip to a conference receipts, his brother-doesn’t-speak-to-me stuff, his local
PX candy bar wrapper (“Cool!”), his shoe repair, his wife’s telephone number at
her sister’s house, his oil furnace repair bill, his used carbon papers for
everything he ever typed, his everything he ever typed copies, his every piece
of mail he ever got, his hand written notes about anything ever always, his
lunch-in-office food wrappers, his…
on and on EVERYTHING gathering of every GOD DAMN PIECE OF PAPER he ever
had ever was ever always put into the boxes WITH EVERY GOD DAMN RARE BOOK too
and all… in order.
IN
ORDER. In order of its (any piece
of paper including a rare book) arrival in his life. IN ORDER. FOR
DECADES. THE WHOLE SHIT PILE OF
THE PAPER PILE of Dead Can’s WHOLE LIFE, including the rare books… was …
perfectly… time line COMPLETE filed… in those boxes. When he ate lunch after going to the dentist after giving a
lecture and …after that lunch buying a rare book at a local used book store AND
picked up the list of telephone calls “missed” at the department office on the
way back to HIS office… ALL of this went into the current box-being-filled, in
order, until full. Then the next
box was started on top of that one.
Boxes filled, in order, for decades. That I destroyed in minutes.
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