Books of Knowledge tucked neatly into a hand held device

I just read on Yahoo that encyclopedias will be dinosaurs in the future for all babies born this year. With hand-held computers, knowledge is a click away.

The Encyclopedia Salesman (True story!)

When I joined my soldier husband in a tiny rural Alaska town, we were young newlyweds. I had a difficult adjustment period moving from a Midwest inner city neighborhood -where nearly everyone owned a dog, and nearly everything we needed was in walking distance -to moving to a remote wilderness town.

I was used to the sights and sounds of the big city where the aromas from ethnic cooking blended on the breeze. Pork steaks sizzled on open charcoal grills, the smells of garlic, green pepper and onion meant someone in the neighborhood was having spaghetti and meatballs, but my favorite smell was bacon sizzling on someone’s stove to be served up with a fresh home grown tomato.

From the big city to a rural town where moose and buffalo traversed our unpaved road, I was lonely and I missed my dog who was back home with my parents. From a lovely little apartment to a rundown trailer. A string of eight ramshackle trailers in eight crayon colors stretched down the gravel road - I felt alienated. From a thriving five block shopping district where small shop owners and five and dime stores displayed their wares to a tiny two block town with one general store - I felt displaced. It was the bakeries sprinkled throughout our Midwest neighborhood that I missed most. I craved pastries, but the general store in town didn’t sell anything that came close to fresh chocolate long johns or cheese danish. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway; we never had any extra money; none of the newlywed military families who lived off post did.

One Saturday morning, I heard a car pull into the gravel drive at the far end of the trailer court. I peeked out the window and saw a man lift a heavy satchel from the trunk. I assumed he was visiting a neighbor. A few minutes later he knocked on our door and asked if he could come in and show us his product. He was a traveling encyclopedia salesman. I nudged my husband in his ribs, knowing full well that we could not afford them, but he invited the man in anyway. He opened his case and handed us a book, gilded edged Volume A.

“What do you think of this?” he asked as he fanned the pages. Before I could speak my mind, the guy had five volumes spread on the floor. “Eight dollars a month, that’s all it will cost you folks. We can set up a payment plan and you will have this gorgeous set for your future children. I’ll even throw in a children’s set; now how does that sound for eight dollars?”

If we’d had eight extra dollars a month, I sure wouldn’t have bought encyclopedias. I was adamant and said, “We absolutely cannot afford these. They are beautiful, but not at this time.”

Then he started talking faster than an auctioneer, “Twenty-five cents a day, only twenty-five cents a day and you and your family can own this wonderful set. Twenty five cents a day and I’ll even through in a book case for you to display these treasures. What do you say, twenty five cents a day? Don't deprive your children. Twenty-five cents a day.”

My husband looked at me hopefully and said, “Babe, what do you think? It is a good deal.” He put me in an awkward position, and I wanted to scream, 'We don't have children and you hate reading!" but I simply said, “No.”

By the time the salesman had packed up his volumes A-Z, I had two men upset with me. I heard the car engine start up at the end of the trailer court, looked out and saw the salesman’s car pull away. I was relieved.

I was upset with my husband for even thinking we could afford such a luxury and I got tired of defending my position, so I went next door to complain to my best friend. I banged on her door. I rapped again. I called her name. She finally answered.

“What took you so long to answer? Sleeping in?" She stood at the open door but did not invite me in as she usually would. “I hope I’m not disturbing you. I just have to tell you this. Did you see the guy who got out of that white car down at the end of the road? He was some little weird encyclopedia salesman and I’m telling you he was a goof who had a bad comb over and bad breath and a bad sales pitch.”

She was usually as animated as I was, but she stood statue-like with the door narrowly opened and blinked nervously. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head from side to side.

“Yes, really!” I said. Her face contorted.
“Okay, I’ll hurry, I guess you want to get back to hubby, huh? Well listen to this first. The little creep sounded like an auctioneer trying to hawk these encyclopedias. ‘Twenty-five cents, twenty-five cents.’ You’re lucky he didn’t hit you up. Your husband’s like mine; he’d have signed on the dotted line just to make the guy happy. Now I’ve ticked off my husband and that goofy salesman.”

Her eyes flashed wide. She opened the door and her husband yelled, "Come on in." There sat the encyclopedia salesman with his volumes spread wall to wall.

“Hi there again." he shouted, "My partner took the car up to town. We always travel in pairs."

My friend's husband said, “I'm about to sign the contract.”

My face was as red as my friend’s trailer as I stumbled down the stairs backwards and shouted an apology to the salesman. I could hear him and my friend's husband laughing as I ran home.

To this day, my best friend blames me for their purchase of an obsolete set of encyclopedias, circa 1969 that her husband refuses to dispose of. If I were her, I'd throw them out, or at his head!

I'm glad that nowadays knowledge is a digital click away. Times, how they change.