Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Just dropped my 88 year old Dad at the Tuesday's retired Dr.'s coffee clatch at Jakes. It's the highlight of his week; the other doctors are very nice to him. Jake's seems to be hoppin', which is good to see.

My wife is at the bookstore waiting for a huge shipment of bookshelves. Staples had one of their half price sales which we jump all over. We simply couldn't buy the raw material for that price, much less the cutting and hammering and cluing. It really made our used bookstore look much nicer, white laminate just cleans up the books, somehow. I've slowly but surely made a transition at my own store, using these shelves whenever possible.

Last time we ordered a bunch of shelves, they only partially delivered. I'm sure we aren't what they had in mind when they put the sale together....

If we get the full complement, I'll be set to do 2/3rds of the changes I wanted to make at my store. I can do a switch with some of my wife's smaller shelves; the last 1/3rd of the changes will have to wait until Home Depot -- or someone else -- starts carrying the size I need.

This is the stage where I wish I could just wave my magic wand and have it all done. I love the planning, I love the results, but actually moving things is hard. Like that game where you stack wood blocks; I can't just take one out without risking the whole thing tumbling down. I used to kid myself it would be easy, and then I'd get halfway through the mess and remember....oh, this never works.

I'm less likely to make random changes. I plan much more. I try to have excess labor. I try to give myself time (this is hard, since I can't afford to close.)

I seem to have an inner timer, that I simply must make changes. It used to be every 3 or 4 months, then every 6 months, and over the last decade, I've pushed that into once every year or so. Every change I've made has been an improvement. This change should actually give me more display space, but look less cluttered, more clean and streamlined. I hope.

I think this time, I'm going to go and get the best conveyance I can find for the big shelves--something with lots of straps, and big fat wheels, that I can cart stuff up stairs.

I hadn't really planned to do anything until late May, thinking I could afford it then. But the Staples sale came along, and I couldn't pass it up.

So...a big breath, and some planning, and I'll be ready to move things around.

Shudder.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

MOMENTUS EVENTS HAVE OVER-TAKEN US

Capitalism laid Bear: gloom over bank collapse Fareed Sahloul
18 Mar 2008

The fall of Bear Stearns and the wider implications of its bargain sale to JP Morgan has set chins wagging the financial world over, with even the most resolute of market optimists finding little to smile about. Financial News has trawled the press and compiled the following list of gloomy quotations...

The Times

• Bear Stearns insider: "As the Reuters screen flashed 'London traders told stop dealing with Bear', we cheered. After a couple of hours drinking, the news the bank I worked for was in so much trouble had finally sunk in."

"None of us could believe it. Banks don't go bust. It is not meant to happen."

The Wall Street Journal

• Hank Paulson, US Treasury Secretary: "It was just clear that this franchise was going to unravel if the deal wasn't done by the end of the weekend."

• Christopher Dodd: senate banking committee chairman of Connecticut: "To allow this to go into bankruptcy, I think, would have [created] some systemic problems that would have been massive."

The Financial Times

• Member of Bear Stearns’ fixed-income division: “Everyone is just stunned. It’s like a funeral in there.”

• Dominic White, fund manager at Morley Fund Management: “The news is very negative. Sentiment is the worst we have seen since the summer. Everyone is very nervous. People are waiting for the next bad headline.”

• TJ Marta, strategist at RBC Capital: “The fate of Lehman and Merrill will be increasingly questioned.”

The Independent

• Fund manager: “We are in panic mode. Bear Stearns went from being in pretty good shape last week, according to the company, to going bust.”

• Tim Steer, manager of New Star Asset Management’s UK Alpha Fund: “Magic wands like those waved by Bernanke are all very well but aren’t a lasting solution…Banks look cheap by historic standards, but until they decide to get real I’d suggest there could be more falls to come.”

The Daily Telegraph

• Alan Greenspan, former US Federal Reserve chairman: “The crisis in the US is likely to be judged in retrospect as the most wrenching since the end of the Second World War.”

Anonymous said...

For those not familiar with Pronghorn, the best resort in the area.

There are concentric gate system's, the outer for the riffraff and the inner for the most elite.

The inner & outer both have their own golf courses.

The inner is doing just fine, they have that most important Bend attribute "Exclusivity", the trouble is the outer-zone, its now being compared by owners as to be the next Brasada.

The outer lots and homes can't be sold, the inner lots and homes are doing just fine.

Many Bend area "investors", bought Pronghorn lots, not knowing they were buying into the non-exclusive poverty lots, many assumed that Pronghorn was Pronghorn. NOT SO.

I have friends who are about ready to walk away from the loss on their outer Pronghorn purchase, it looks like the its all beyond hope. Once the outer perimeter ( gate ) collapses, what will protect the inner??


So Pronghorn has to make a decision, have one gate, or let the outer perimeter become barbarians!

Anonymous said...

Gated houses/communities mean that something is either wrong with you or with your society.

In poor countries houses are typically surrounded with concrete walls topped by broken bits of glass. Windows always have bars over them.

It's always refreshing to come back to small-town America and see none of that -- until recently.

My sister lives in a small town in Virginia don't even lock the doors -- at night or when they're away. Only when they take an extended trip.

Anonymous said...

We're now returning the middle ages, or dark ages.

Forget about poor country's.

Pronghorn has a gated village, where the barbarians must be kept out, and then inside the village there is a castle that has a moat to keep out the villagers. In the castle grounds there is another secret golf-course, where only the most elite are allowed.

Those that originally bought lots and homes at Pronghorn thought they had access to the whole village. Now they learn that only the inner sanctuary has value, what they call 'exclusivity' in Shire Pronghorn.

Many people from Shire Bend, paid dearly to get into Shire Pronghorn, now the word is out in all of Central mOrdor that only those who hold keys to inner sanctum own the one true ring of power at Pronghorn. Many Pronghorn villagers that want to return to Shire Bend, are now finding out that the common's outside of the Pronghorn Castle, has no value.

Anonymous said...

"Many people from Shire Bend, paid dearly to get into Shire Pronghorn, now the word is out in all of Central mOrdor that only those who hold keys to inner sanctum own the one true ring of power at Pronghorn."

If the inner gates ever come down, they could always stars on their belly to distinguish themselves from the plain-belly sneetches.

Duncan McGeary said...

Now the Star-bellied Sneetches had bellies with stars.
The Plain-bellied Sneetches had none upon thars.
The stars weren't so big; they were really quite small.
You would think such a thing wouldn't matter at all.
But because they had stars, all the Star-bellied Sneetches
would brag, "We're the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches."

With their snoots in the air, they would sniff and they'd snort, "
We'll have nothing to do with the plain-bellied sort."
And whenever they met some, when they were out walking,
they'd hike right on past them without even talking.

When the Star-bellied children went out to play ball,
could the Plain-bellies join in their game? Not at all!
You could only play ball if your bellies had stars,
and the Plain-bellied children had none upon thars.

When the Star-bellied Sneetches had frankfurter roasts,
or picnics or parties or marshmallow toasts,
they never invited the Plain-bellied Sneetches.
Left them out cold in the dark of the beaches.
Kept them away; never let them come near,
and that's how they treated them year after year.

Then one day, it seems, while the Plain-bellied Sneetches
were moping, just moping alone on the beaches,
sitting there, wishing their bellies had stars,
up zipped a stranger in the strangest of cars.

"My friends, " he announced in a voice clear and keen,
"My name is Sylvester McMonkey McBean.
I've heard of your troubles; I've heard you're unhappy.
But I can fix that; I'm the fix-it-up chappie.
I've come here to help you; I have what you need.
My prices are low, and I work with great speed,
and my work is one hundred per cent guaranteed."

Then quickly, Sylvester McMonkey McBean
put together a very peculiar machine.
Then he said, "You want stars like a Star-bellied Sneetch?
My friends, you can have them . . . . for three dollars each.
Just hand me your money and climb on aboard."

They clambered inside and the big machine roared.
It bonked. It clonked. It jerked. It berked.
It bopped them around, but the thing really worked.
When the Plain-bellied Sneetches popped out, they had stars!
They actually did, they had stars upon thars!

Then they yelled at the ones who had stars from the start,
"We're exactly like you; you can't tell us apart.
We're all just the same now, you snooty old smarties.
Now we can come to your frankfurter parties!"

"Good grief!" groaned the one who had stars from the first.
"We're still the best Sneetches, and they are the worst.
But how in the world will we know," they all frowned,
"if which kind is what or the other way 'round?"

Then up stepped McBean with a very sly wink, and he said,
"Things are not quite as bad as you think.
You don't know who's who, that is perfectly true.
But come with me, friends, do you know what I'll do?
I'll make you again the best Sneetches on beaches,
and all it will cost you is ten dollars eaches.

Belly stars are no longer in style, " said McBean.
"What you need is a trip through my stars-off machine.
This wondrous contraption will take off your stars,
so you won't look like Sneetches who have them on thars."

That handy machine, working very precisely,
removed all the stars from their bellies quite nicely.
Then, with snoots in the air, they paraded about.
They opened their beaks and proceeded to shout,
"We now know who's who, and there isn't a doubt,
the best kind of Sneetches are Sneetches without."

Then, of course those with stars all got frightfully mad.
To be wearing a star now was frightfully bad.
Then, of course old Sylvester McMonkey McBean
invited them into his stars-off machine.
Then, of course from then on, you can probably guess,
things really got into a horrible mess.

All the rest of the day on those wild screaming beaches,
the Fix-it-up-Chappie was fixing up Sneetches.
Off again, on again, in again, out again,
through the machine and back round about again,
still paying money, still running through,
changing their stars every minute or two,
until neither the Plain- nor the Star-bellies knew
whether this one was that one or that one was this one
or which one was what one or what one was who!

Then, when every last cent of their money was spent,
the Fix-It-Up-Chappie packed up and he went.
And he laughed as he drove in his car up the beach,
"They never will learn; no, you can't teach a Sneetch!"

But McBean was quite wrong, I'm quite happy to say,
the Sneetches got quite a bit smarter that day.
That day, they decided that Sneetches are Sneetches,
and no kind of Sneetch is the BEST on the beaches.
That day, all the Sneetches forgot about stars,
and whether they had one or not upon thars.

Duncan McGeary said...

Thanks, Jeff. You reminded me of my favorite Dr. Suess story.

I've ordered it for my store. Why should kids get all the good books?

Jason said...

Darn straight!

If you want any help with the shelves, let me know!