Is when
you excitedly crack open a book newly purchased …
… and
discover that the prior owner has graffiti’d it all up with either a
highlighter, a heavy-handed black pen, or both. It’s even worse if the highlit
chunks are pink.
I’ve been
an avid reader all my life, and I’ve probably bought somewhere in the
neighborhood of four hundred books over the past 25 years. The vast majority
have been used books, since I only buy new for the best and the keepers. When I
consider a used book I do give it a thorough examination, checking the spine,
the brittleness or lack thereof of the pages, the smell (can’t have a moldy
book, mind you), dog-earedness and, most importantly, if it’s been marked up.
Three
times I’ve failed this most important of tests.
The first
was a thick but flexible introductory book on the Revolutionary War. I found it
at a library book sale and scooped it up for a few bucks. It felt good in my
hands. This was in the first phase of my military history interest, sometime
around 2012 or 2013. I anticipated learning about the main players, the
battles, the tactics and the strategies that enabled the United States to
secure its independence from Great Britain. It sat on a shelf for a little
while as I finished up my current reads and then I cracked it open … to that
pink highlighter! Some high school or college kid marked up the early chapters
which somehow didn’t reveal itself to me in my initial scan. I was crushed. I
simply could not read it. I think I donated it to Goodwill.
The second
was purchased at a thrift store on Hilton Head where my mother-in-law
volunteered. This place has an enormous selection of books of all sizes,
shapes, genres and age levels – several aisles’ worth. The family always scored
there when we’d visit. I found a thick paperback biography of Albert Einstein,
which instantly leapt off the shelf and into my hands. Excited, I paid the few
dollars and, opening it to page one on the ride home, discovered some dude both
yellow highlighted and black pen underlined most of the opening chapters (about
70 pages) covering Einstein’s youth and his scientific thought. I was crushed
and again could not read it. However, it sits to this day in my closet atop my
dresser. Not sure why, but I haven’t given up on it. Though I probably won’t
read it.
The last
was a book I ordered online. Don’t remember the title, but it was a one-volume
history of the Catholic Church that was fairly well received. I ordered it from
a local used book store (most likely right here in Dallas) and only because the
condition was marked as GOOD on the website. Well, I supposed “good” is now a loosely
subjective term. When it arrived in the mail I hurriedly opened it, only to
observe that some prior reader had underlined sentences and whole paragraphs
throughout the entire book in pencil. An irrational thought popped into my
head: I could just erase it! Sure, it wouldn’t leave any indentations and
wouldn’t take any longer than six or seven hours – but I’d still have a
potentially awesome read ahead of me – then I slapped myself hard and
yelled “STOP IT!” The book is a lost cause, man, put it down. And slowly I did.
So on that
last book I was sorta deceived, and don’t count it against me.
It’s not
the money – I think I’m out maybe $20 thanks to these three charlatans. It’s
the smothering blanket of disappointment that envelops you, tamping down joy
and hope and the promise of adventure and discovery.
So … don’t
mark up a book, unless you intend to keep it forever.
This
public service message provided by Hopper, Lifelong Reader.

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