Return of the scanner people

Hiya bookies. Long time no talk. Sorry. It may seem that I have given up on this blog. Not so. Not even close.

My mom fell and broke her hip last month. Aged 91, she's doing better than you might expect but this has really cut into the time for such things as blogging. Then, somehow, I've hurt my shoulder, and the one thing that hurts worse than anything else is sitting at the computer typing. Get the correlation? Sitting, typing, blogging?

And no, I'm not good at typing standing up.

Don't be a smart aleck. But I did get a laugh yesterday at the Collierville Friends of the Library sale. The Scanner People were out in force.

You remember the scanner people, right? Those who use the little hand held devices that looks at the book's ISBN and tell them whether it has resale value or not? They might be selling beach balls or frozen rabbit or lawn furniture for all they know, and care, about books. All they do is what their silly little machine tells them.

Well, as usual one of the doofi (plural of doofus) scanned a book that their little machine said wasn't valuable. And it wasn't. Unless it was signed. Which that one was. Which I noticed because I looked. Probably worth more than every book their expensive little device found for them.

Gotta love the Scanner People. They will tell you that the cost of their little device and the monthly fees for their service are more than worth it, that it pays off because they don't spend money on books that aren't valuable. Of course, I try not to, either, but the device I use doesn't cost me anything. It also registers more factors than just a bar code to determine value. And if the book should happen not to have a bar code? Then I think smoke comes from the ears of the Scanner People and their circuit breakers shut, leaving them to walk around in endless circles.

So be nice to the Scanner People, when you see them. Just don't let them inside your house. Like Zombies, they're scary.