There’s a saying about sidewalk cafés in Paris: If you sit at your table long enough, everyone you know will pass by. The sayer was probably talking about Frenchmen passing by, but the adage applies here, too.
Saturday marked my first participation in a book fair. The first annual Bridgewater BookFest (held appropriately in Bridgewater, PA) took place on Saturday, June 21, 2008. Brilliantly organized by Valentine Brkich, the all-day, outdoor event took up a whole block of the town and had something literary for everyone. Everyone with a literary bent, anyway.
You had games and books for the children, and even children’s authors. Pittsburgh TV personality Dave Crawley for one. I had met Dave before, so I went over to his table to say hi. He’s such a nice guy that he didn’t even mind having a table out in the hot sun in the kids’ area. He was having a fine time signing his books for the kids.
The adults could find adult authors to chat with and buy books from in “Author Alley.” That was me, along with other friends like Patty Kreamer, Nancy Stampahar, and tablemate Tom Lipinski. Neither Tom nor I had remembered to bring a tablecloth, so to deal with the bare wood surface, we decided ours was the rustic table.
You could listen to some of these authors give presentations on various topics such as writing, publishing, and getting your life organized. You could even find hot dogs, sno-cones, and freshly squeezed lemonade.
If you were one of the authors (me) you could also think your author’s table had been transported to the aforementioned Parisian café.
I was there from 8:30 in the morning to around 4:30, and in that time five people I hadn’t seen in years dropped by. This is easier to believe when you realize that Bridgewater is just over the river and down the road from my home town of New Brighton. But still…
First there was Susan, a friend of a friend of my late parents, who attends the same church we did (before I converted to heathen). We passed the time and dropped names. The nice lady even bought a book.
Then came Susanne, with whom I was graduated from New Brighton High School. After graduation, she stayed in the area while I moved all the way to Pittsburgh. She seemed slightly embarrassed by the fact that she had stayed, and I’m not sure why.
Then my friend Kevin appeared. He’s the owner of Graule Studios in Rochester, PA, and I hadn’t seen him in an embarrassing number of years, more than 25 at least. We promised to stay in touch.
Then came a lady named Judy, who asked if I remembered her. And I did. She was a neighbor of my parents, from the years after I moved away. When she told me her son was graduating from college, I realized just how long it had been. Never mind. Too long.
Finally, Lauren dropped by. Turns out she’s one of my students from the Art Institute from 22 years ago.
My friend Diana came too, but I had invited her and seen her just the day before, so that doesn’t figure in to old home week. But hers was another pleasant, familiar face.
Val’s wife was in charge of the advertising for the BookFest and she did a great job, because that’s why some of the people said they came … to see if I was still me.
I can’t wait to see what happens when I actually get to Paris.