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I hadn't been out scouting for three weeks and clutched three pages of addresses in my hands. Several sales were noted on my list with "lots" or "tons" of books, as claimed in their respective ads. It was 8:15 and the first of these "premium" sales wouldn't be opening until 9 but I wanted to leave NOW. I noticed a few 8AM sales nearby and decided to start there. As soon as I began driving (something I'm doing less and less of these days) I noticed that the "ABS" light was on. I remembered that this had happened once before and had corrected itself the next time I started up, so I parked, turned off the engine and started it up again. Again went on the ABS light. I knew this had something to do with my Anti-Lock braking system, but couldn't remember if it was serious or not, so I called my mechanic. Oh nothing to worry about unless it's snowing, he assured me. Today it was to be about 85 degrees, so I could take care of it later. Terrific!

I was on my way again, purchased a book at one sale, purchased none at the second one. Now it was time to get on to the more serious "lots of" and "tons of" books sales starting at 9. I determined which was closest and was on my way until— wait— what's that humming noise I hear? Is it coming from my parked car? Couldn't be, the engine is off. I look under the hood. Zounds! Something in there is running itself! I called back the mechanic and he immediately knew what the problem was: Something to do with the ABS was stuck and was about to drain my battery, so I'd better be over there right away so it could be replaced. DAMN! My book scouting mission seemed to be ending before it had even begun.

On my way over to the mechanic's I began musing on "luck." I hadn't been scouting for weeks because of a combination of factors (hundred-degree heat, new computer, too much work to do) and here it was a perfect day for scouting, sales all over the city, nice weather, good night's sleep, and my car, which has been nearly problem-free for the past four years suddenly needs immediate attention dashing my hopes for a big haul. My luck couldn't be worse.

But I was forgetting the last time I was out scouting, three weeks ago. I had hit a few mediocre sales out of a list three pages long, and had moderate hopes for the next, so-called "digger" sale. As I searched for the house, I noticed a few people milling on the sidewalk outside what looked like a haunted house, protected by a thick layer of vegetation. I was a little worried that two of the people waiting, despite being my pals, were fellow book dealers.

After we entered the book room each of the three of us book people picked our own spots and started digging. I could see quickly that these were the sorts of books I do best with. Oldish, many religious, mostly nonfiction. I knew what to avoid and what to take a chance on. The deal was, you fill up boxes, and make an offer. Swell! In short order I had filled up my bag and needed a box. I then picked up an oldish copy of "The Hobbit." Second edition, fifth printing. But it was in nice shape, had a dustjacket. I showed it to Pam who remarked, that should be pretty good since it has the dustjacket. I threw it in my bag.

An hour later, I was squinting as I emerged into the light with a box full of books. Just one? you say. The other book people had two and four boxes apiece. But that's how I am. Picky. I paid the old coot outside all the cash I had on me: $19.

I asked my book pals what they had paid. $20 for two boxes. $30 for four boxes. Pam assured me that the copy of "The Hobbit" was probably pretty good, so I shouldn't feel bad. But I was convinced I had been ripped off and became so disturbed that I (embarrassingly) attempted to get a few dollars back from the old coot. But the deal was, you make an offer, and that's what you pay. I hadn't exactly remembered making that offer, I had just told him that's how much cash I had. But the deal was over.

I obsessed about the deal while my friends started talking about going out to breakfast. Did I want to come? Sure, I said, but I'm out of money. Would they buy me breakfast (which I promised would be a small, inexpensive one, as I'd actually eaten my breakfast first thing in the morning, as usual)? Yes. Great. I suggested Pig 'n Pancake which probably wouldn't have a line, like most other breakfast places in Portland late in the morning on Saturday. I told them where I thought it was (hadn't been there in years) and off we all went.

At breakfast, I ordered my usual decaf, which, with its reduced quantities of caffeine, still gives me enough of a buzz to help me work most days. As we sat and gabbed about the book business as we all usually do my decaf was being refilled numerous times. The more I drank the longer I wanted to sit there and yack. And the longer we sat there, the more decaf was being poured into my cup. By the time we left I was so hopped up on caffeine that I felt happy.

Back home, I made some phone calls, yacked some more. No hurry on looking up my haul.

Finally, I got to my newly purchased box of books. One after another turned out to be very good purchases. The ones I wasn't so sure about were just too obscure to have any information at all. And then there was "The Hobbit." I scrolled down through the earlier publishing dates, looking for anything resembling mine (1951). They're asking THAT for a 1970s copy? I scrolled further down. Finally I saw a few that dated from the Fifties. I had to do this search several times, to convince myself of its accuracy. There was nothing as old as my copy, with or without a dustjacket for less than $750.

Immediately, I emailed my book buddy, stating that I owed her dinner. When we chatted later that day, we mused on "luck," mine good that day, hers not so good. (Both she and the other scout hadn't done so well at the sale, having bought twice & three times the number of books I had.) In any event, I was having a good day.

Now, three weeks later, my day wasn't going nearly as well. But as luck would have it, the mechanic fixed my car in about a half an hour, and I was able to hit a few of the 10AM sales advertising "lots of" or "tons of" books. I was quite lucky that one: I had a cell phone with which to call my mechanic; two: that my mechanic was open today; three: that he happened to have the part my car needed; four: that I was close enough that I arrived before the Saturday rush. My resulting haul wasn't in the top tier, but I didn't come home empty-handed either.

I haven't gone anywhere but I will be back soon: after the triple-day of triple digit heat is over, and after I settle into my new (used) computer (wide, flat panel!). I don't expect to scout anything, books or otherwise, this weekend.