Friday, June 30, 2006

Hollywood -- Colorado Style

Selling books also means counting books. Yes, it’s mid-year inventory time. Because I carry more than 550 titles, it’s quite the project to stack, mark each with a SKU tag and count the items. Phew. Okay, my inventory is not as large as the chain stores, I know, but counting it is still a daunting task. Never mind that I only got three hours of sleep last night, finishing the details before the “official” counters arrived this morning. Why? Because I had opted to attend the annual church choir banquet last night, held at New Life Church in Colorado Springs, my home church. This, instead of working in the warehouse—whereby I shorted myself on sleep time in the process. Starting next week, the fall season begins in a rush right after Independence Day, and we start a deliberate slide into the Christmas season. I know, I know—it’s too early to talk about Christmas shopping! Yet here we are, halfway through 2006 as July 1st lands this weekend.

Speaking of my church choir, last night’s event mimicked the Academy Awards in Hollywood—it was the “red carpet,” Colorado style. Each year, a chosen committee selects a banquet theme. Last year, we had a Fifties Party. The year before, a Western Hoedown. At the other end of the scale was last night’s formal, sit-down dinner affair, complete with the little gold statuettes. We gave awards that Hollywood can’t compete with, except for choosing the Song of the Year. Choir members cast votes two weeks ago in anticipation of this week’s award ceremony, complete with the theme music from the annual televised show.

The “Paul A. Awards” (named after a beloved staff member, who is a dynamite clarinet and saxophone player) recognized those in our nearly 200-member choir for outstanding achievement for being the:
Loudest Alto, Tenor and Bass singers
Person Most Likely to Forget His/Her Vocal Part
Person Most Likely to Ad-Lib the Words
Funniest Choir Member
Person Who Smiles the Most
Most Demonstrative Worship Singer
Most Talkative Choir Member
Person Who Disrupts the Choir the Most
Best Hairstyle
Best-Dressed

These were designed to make light of the idiosyncrasies all singers have, striving for attention in ways that only persons on stage can. However, I’ll mention that we in the worship choir know our focus is to be on God, and not on ourselves. We also selected three members (one from each section) whom we admire as each being the Most Inspirational Singer—an honor for each of them to receive.

Chosen as the Song of the Year was “Your Name,” a song co-written by Dove-award winning Christian singer, Paul Baloche, and our very own guitarist and member of New Life Church’s worship band, Glenn Packiam. Of the five nominated songs, this dynamic composition combines harmonious chords and expressive lyrics that recognize the “strong and mighty power” that is the “shelter” of our God. Packiam is also a member of the Desperation Band, a group that releases CDs through Integrity Music. Its latest release is "Who You Are" and is available online.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Black Hawks, Mary Kay, and Elvis

On the final day of last week’s book fair at a local US Army hospital, I met and talked with a Black Hawk helicopter technician. The soldier had been working on the legendary transport aircraft for 19 years. Equipped with two machine guns and weighing more than 20,000 pounds, the agile helicopter didn’t intimidate this soldier, according to the story she told me about her career with the Army. She said she really enjoyed her work.

Read that again—I said “she.” Yes, the soldier who knew the ins-and-outs of this versatile flying machine was a woman. “Jenna” was youthful and energetic, auburn hair pulled up into a neat bun on top her head—not looking like the kind of woman one would expect maintains the magnificent Black Hawk. How could I not be interested in learning more about her, surely unique among women her age? I’d guessed her to be in her 30s, but she said she’d reached the 40-mark a couple of years before. (Jenna attributed her youthful look to Mary Kay cosmetics…the softer side of a helicopter mechanic in view!)

She is a single mom to two daughters who have traveled with her when Jenna’s assignments allowed it. They each see their father regularly and have benefited from living in other parts of the world, Jenna explained. After 19 years, she remains dedicated in her service to our country, and never thought of doing anything else. She’s served her time in Iraq.

Nineteen years is long enough to do any one job, though, and Jenna is in active pursuit to switch to another role in her Army career, that of scheduling movement of troops. The job change should take place in the near future. In the meantime, she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty, even when desert temperatures on a flight line reach into the hundreds. After all, Mary Kay sells great hand care products, too!
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Another Elvis sighting: My Elvis Presley celebrity life-size cut-out elicited a story from an elderly man who sauntered through the book fair at the end of the fourth and final day. I was packing up the assorted CDs from the nearby “impulse” table, tired but pleased with the week’s sales. Elvis stood nearby, as if to oversee my taking proper care of the music—frozen handsome and smiling in his gold lamé suit.

I glanced at the aged man as he approached, then focused on his deeply wrinkled face when he stopped directly in front of me. He pointed a cigarette-stained finger at the cardboard man and said, “I was his platoon sergeant in Germany.”

“Who? Elvis?” I thought perhaps he was making this up.

“I sure was. He was my scout squad leader. He could read a map like a son-of-a-gun. He was mean…” The odor of cigarette breath was strong, and I wanted to back away, but the story I was about to hear intrigued me too much to pass up. I inhaled carefully and listened to the man.

“Elvis and I were in a bar, and there were two soldiers there with their uniform sleeves rolled up,” he explained. “That was against the rules. I pointed it out to Elvis – ‘See those guys?’ I said. Elvis went over to ‘em, told ‘em to roll down their sleeves. They did. But as soon as he turned around, they rolled ‘em back up. He took those two guys and throwed ‘em down the stairs, out the door! Yeh—Elvis. He was a real nice fella…” The man smiled as he shuffled away, recalling the memory.

Did I believe him? I had no reason not to. It was a nice surprise ending to my busy day.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

To VietNam and Back Again

It has been a number of years since I’ve talked with a VietNam War veteran. Today I had a rare opportunity to do so. I noticed the man because his suspenders were bedecked with nearly two dozen pins of various types, some indicating his volunteer service to the Army hospital where this week’s book fair is staged. He was relaxed and smiled as he stepped up to the cash register, two books in his hands. I asked him if he’d ever been in military service, indicating his array of pins. Judging by his thinning hair and slight paunch, I understood it would have been a few years ago, if he had.

“I was in VietNam for 18 months—the first time. I enjoyed it,” he said.

Enjoyed it? How was that possible? I probed for more information. I had been part of that generation—the ‘60s, the anti-war protest years, hippy “flower” children. I remembered how many young men and women had died in a country far away in a war many did not support. How could this grandfatherly-looking man tell me he enjoyed VietNam?

“I’d been assigned duty as a guard in Germany, and I wanted out of that,” he explained. “So after pestering my commanding officer, it took just 10 days, and I was out of there, and on my way to the war. It wasn’t so bad. I worked with supplies, but when I got shot right here in the stomach (he touched his right side to show me where he’d been hit), they sent me home. I asked to go back, even though I was suffering from PTSD (note: post-traumatic stress syndrome). I was put on 100% disability, but I wanted to go back. I served a second tour of duty for six months before coming home.”

At that point, it didn’t matter to me what he had enjoyed about VietNam. I could do nothing but thank him more than once for his service, hearing he had voluntarily returned to fight that unpopular war. Today he stood before me an aged, but proud, man. He bore no anger and hatred against those who jeered and cursed him and other soldiers upon their return—he just said, “It wasn’t so bad. I was okay.”

I was face-to-face with a real-life hero. I thanked him again for what he had done almost four decades ago, grateful for people like him who gave years of their lives for our country at a time when it seemed the “wrong” thing to do. He turned and walked away with dignity—and with peace.

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Book Fair Notes: With Father’s Day this Sunday, many shoppers are looking for the perfect gift to buy dad. Sports books are selling well, as are CDs and DVDs from “Motorcity” (a 4-CD set of original Motown tunes), Celtic music sets, to the History Channel’s “American Revolution.” Other items selling are binoculars, “Country Wisdom: Everything You Need to Know to Live Off the Land,” gardening books, and the latest “Road Atlas.” Many shoppers are going out of town to visit their dads, and a few of them have their fathers flying here to spend time together as a family.

Consider a book as you shop for YOUR dad! Visit http://www.booksarefun.com/ via the link on this page on the right-hand side, using the discount customer code of COSEP2 for low prices.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

A Chaplain For Nearly a Half-Century

The chaplain was quite cheery for 6:30 in the morning. Though I rose at four a.m. to begin my day, I was not yet in time with his joyous mood, two-plus hours later. I went about my task of setting up the first day of this week’s book fair scheduled at the Army hospital. The gray-haired man tagged along and chatted. He looked more like a physician than a man of the cloth, dressed in his white smock, his I.D. tag hanging from around his neck. I politely listened and nodded as I unfolded and positioned tablecloths, then moved display racks into place. At first annoyed by his banter, something told me to “stop and listen” to him. “The tasks can wait a few minutes,” I thought, then gave this man my full attention.

“I’ve been in the service for more than half a century,” he beamed. “And I’ve been in the chaplaincy almost half a century too!” That WAS impressive. I noticed the pride in his eyes, not dimmed by the thickness of his wire-rimmed glasses. I stood silent and with respect as he continued his tale.

“I was a chaplain in World War II, and my dad fought in World War I.” Now I knew I was in the presence of someone who deserved honor. “I wanted to go into the Navy when I was young,” he explained. “My dad was in the Army, and he would have none of that.” I pictured this aging man in his youth, standing up to his father, at odds in their opinions.

He described the scene at the recruitment office. “There were two lines formed—one was for Army, and the other for Navy. They’d shout out to all of us there, ‘Army!’ ‘Navy!’ and we’d choose a line to stand in. Well, I had flat feet. (I started to feel a bit sorry for him, hearing this.) I’d been an athlete all through high school, but my flat feet kept me out of the Army. I was in that line for the Navy, and they stamped my hand with the letters N-A-V-Y – and it didn’t matter if I had flat feet. I was glad.”

I thought his story was finished, was poised to thank him and turn away—when he grinned, eyes twinkling, “With my flat feet, I figured if the ship ever sank, I just might be able to walk on water!”

We both laughed out loud, me the more surprised of the two. He’d just jump-started my morning, and my smile didn’t fade for the next half-an-hour. He knew exactly what he was doing when he’d started the conversation. Unsuspecting, I was taken in, and given a gift to start my day.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Serving Those Who Serve Our Country

Today I begin a 4-day book fair staged in a local Army hospital. It is one of the military bases from where many of our soldiers are deployed overseas to fight the war in Iraq. Many of my customers will be the staff who care for those returning with injuries, whether they be physical or emotional. Some will also be the soldiers.

Three months ago, I had been in this same facility conducting another book fair. An incident happened that clearly showed me how these soldiers continue to live in some way with the trauma of fighting a war. I had been blowing up some helium balloons to use with my display. I unintentionally overfilled a mylar balloon. To my surprise along with everyone else's present in the area, it exploded. The sound echoed loudly in the tiled atrium hallway--to my embarrassment. In an instant, I realized it sounded like gunshot, as did all the others. With a racing heart, I cried out, "It's only a balloon--it's not a gun!" I could tell by the wide-eyed expressions on many faces, that was exactly what they were reacting to. One soldier commented, "With most people here suffering from PTSD, you're lucky we didn't all hit the floor!" I put away the helium and left the display balloon-less.

This week, I am honored to serve those who are serving our country. Please return to this blog each day to read about the soldiers whom I will talk to.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

DaVinci…DaWhat?

Okay…so I’ve held off reading “The DaVinci Code” and also have not yet seen the movie. Maybe it’s just for the sake of saying, “Nope, not read it. Not seen it.” (Why, I don’t know, because eventually I’ll probably go for it.) I’m a big movie fan, so it’s hard to resist running out to the nearest theater to join the masses that had to be among the first in the seats. As a book seller, I’ll admit to carrying a few copies of the famous-and-debated work of fiction. Yes, yes. I do have to give the customers what they want—that’s simply smart business sense.

In my own way, I was playing a silent game with my customers. “The DaVinci Code” copies were carefully positioned in different places on my “bestseller” rack at different book fairs. At one event, I’d place them on the top shelves to see how fast they sold. The next time, I’d position the book toward the bottom to see just how badly people wanted it—if they had to search for it, would they still buy the book? Did that embossed, golden title jump off the dark-red cover enough to trip people as they walked by, out of immediate view? Buried between Jimmy Carter’s “Our Endangered Values: America’s Moral Crisis” and Frank Peretti’s “Monster,” I thought perhaps those titles might instead catch a shopper’s gaze, who in turn, would have a hard decision to make, choosing between the three types of ethical discussions.

What I noticed was that during the week preceding the movie debut, the DaVinci copies did not sell—and that was when the book was placed on the top shelves of the rack. I’d wondered if people had gotten bored by the voluminous clamber on the airwaves about Dan Brown’s legal predicament. Tom Hanks’s promotion of the movie was a bit overdone too (I thought), as he appeared on every television channel most nights, gushing over the merits of his new film.

However, after “The DaVinci Code” premiered in theaters, the copies of the book went quickly…sold right away. I had a single hardback remaining when a man who had seen it displayed the day before came back to buy it, but it was gone—sold to someone who had been there an hour before.

I haven’t seen a man that age pout so sadly in quite a while! Maybe he should just go see the movie…

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

What Is a Book Fair?

There are county fairs and state fairs, but perhaps some readers wonder, “Just what is a book fair?” If you have young children, you may have been exposed to a similar event at your children’s schools. However, I stage my events in the corporate world. Human Resource departments like book fair events because they are an employee benefit that workers look forward to. It is book shopping brought to the work place. Saves gas, and helps keep employees happy.

From my perspective, the best kind of book fair is one scheduled for two, three or four days at a time. Less set-up and tear-down. Yes, the one-day-ers can be killers, but we manage! I have three part-time employees who work into the mix of those physical tasks of moving carts, setting up tables and assembling attractive displays. It can take about two hours to do a complete set-up (remember, I carry more than 500 titles!), but in the end, it’s worth the time. A full-service, attractive bookstore is right there, in a company’s cafeteria, the lobby of a major hospital, or living room of a nursing home. It’s festive, and a nice change from the daily look staff and clients grow used to.

Employees love the free drawings that are standard at the book fairs. It’s normal to hear, “Now make sure you draw my name,” or “I never win anything” – and to that person’s surprise, when his or her name is drawn, many times it is indeed the first time that person has ever won something – or so they say. Happy to know I allow the winner to choose a free book, it makes that person’s day! It’s also fun for me. Many times the winner will say they’re selecting a book for a sister, son, mother, or friend. Now that’s generosity.

Speaking of generous, one important element of my book fairs is the “rebate.” In being allowed to sell products at a business, the company earns a percentage of my sales. Always. Many times this money is contributed to a charity of the company’s choice, but the funds are also given to employee hardship funds, or will add to the money employees have to stage their yearly Christmas party. I love it because I am happy to contribute to these causes, knowing a portion of the proceeds will be used in positive ways.

All in all, book fairs bring happiness and variety into a day’s routine – and who doesn’t want that as part of a hard day’s work?

Friday, June 02, 2006

Daddy's Little Girl

In the book fair business, it’s a known fact that a majority of the buyers are women. Shoppers at heart, they seem to have (or take) more time to linger over lyrical pages of prose in a novel, or push buttons on a talking book being considered for a grandchild. I love the women who turn out at my book fairs because I know it means titles will move off the shelves. It’s not the money—it’s the satisfaction in knowing I’ve made their day and hear, “This is just what I was looking for.”

That said, my heart is most touched by the young dads who buy books for their children. They are a study in opposites, when dressed in a 3-piece suit.

Mid-week I conducted a 2-day fair in the lobby of a somewhat ritzy office building downtown. As expected, shoppers filled the aisles during lunch time. The rest of the day, people scurried to and fro, briefcases in hand, off to important meetings and appointments. They’d stop but a moment at the bestseller rack or cookbook display, then back on pace toward a job task. Whenever a businessman approached the cash register, I expected he’d pay for a copy of a business book or the latest profile of an athlete who makes millions. But not always. When a smartly-dressed man places a copy of “Chicken Little” or “Pooh Stories” on the countertop, it is a treat. His soft side shows, and it’s something to see.

One of the best parts of the retail book business is talking with the customers—and overhearing conversations amongst them. Picture this: two fortyish lawyer-looking types head my way, a bit rushed, it seems. One wants to pay for his books, the other waits beside him. The buyer comments about the World War II DVD set he’s buying, his voice casual as he talks about his interest. But his demeanor switches to excitement when he points out his second choice, a book called, “Third Grade Detectives #6: The Secret of the Green Skin.” He tells his friend it’s for his daughter—“She’s in third grade and loves to read! I saw this title and knew I had to buy it for her!” His pleasure is heart-warming to me because love for his daughter is apparent in his selection, and he wasn’t afraid to share that with his gray-haired friend. In my mind, I see an enthusiastic little girl, hugging and kissing daddy who brings a new book home for her to read.

I suppose it’s why I’ve always treasured books so much. They are a means of connection and emotion between people of all ages and for all times. Dad may have a busy day at the office, but if he can spend a few dollars at a book fair, he takes home much more than white pages glued between two covers.