Rick Simonson

The Din, the Quiet
December 17, 2007

December 17.

Quick words here. The main activity for now if seated - as one in the retail fray - is the quick review and tracking of sales, marking, allocating titles as they sell, making decisions ... this paperback backlist title, always ordered direct at better terms - how many to get from a jobber? The single copy of a pricey art book - let the one that sold be sold and be done with it? Get another quick and figure the week-two weeks ahead might see it sell? This, that, and the other decisions. Letting some books go ... others, still a scramble.

Otherwise, it is on the feet. Moving about, helping people, darting about to replenish stacks and displays whenever things move - sometimes it's replacing, other times it's grabbing something else and giving it a shot at the traffic.

There's more in it all, of course, above and beyond the sales (as important as those are). The people, from those who've never ventured in, to those visiting Seattle, to those not seen for a long, long time. Quick words there, too.

There's still, among other peculiarities, the end of the day, and watching/trying to be a part of the more normal run of things - as others experience them. That includes attending holiday parties.

Suddenly, this week's calendar has a slew of them. How did this happen? All are gatherings one would want to attend, but not in the state of mind one is in after a helter skelter time of it, the four-people-at-once juggled scenarios (minds being changed about giftwraps, changes of plan on shippng, someone asking who the card buyer is and could their cards be looked at for holiday sales ...). Some are fairly used to whatever place I'm in ... eyes staring blankly, veering back and forth between rapid chatter and staring off into the distance quiet. After hours without, food and drink are gobbled up in not-always seemly manner.

And it is the darkest time. This week marks that point of the year. Evasive as it can be - the busyness, the numbness, the exhaustion, the noisy swirl - there is that point, at day's beginning, at day's end, sometimes miraculously amidst the zaniest part of the day - you touch base with that heartbeat place. The noise and bustle are all good, but so is that quiet. 

Posted by Rick Simonson on December 17, 2007 | Comments (0)