A Town, a Team, and a Dream…and a Trade.

What it is, Pigeon Handlers?

If that well crafted, expertly worded, and professional sounding title strikes you as somewhat familiar, that’s because it is famous and I had zero part in writing it. I know what you are thinking:

“Well, yea. You aren’t a very good writer. I believe your own words are ‘Mediocre Writer.’”

And you are correct!

Those awesome words come from H.G. Bissinger and the riveting tale of high school football that ended up bringing to light Tim McGraw’s acting talents. That’s right, Friday Night Lights. Now, I’m not going to spoil it for you, that’s not what this post is about. The story, that is. The book itself is a big subject for why I’m wasting your time today.

A few weeks ago, my sister and them went to one of my BIL’s co-workers grandmother’s garage sale. Because my sister was involved and we are family, they naturally returned with multiple boxes of books. Let me tell you, it was a Texan delight when we went through those boxes. Texas left and right, along with Military and Western History. I snuck a few Louis L’amour and Larry McMurtry titles aside because as I get older, I agree more and more with Toby Keith, thinking that I Should’ve Been a Cowboy.

Towards the tail end of the night and down to the bottom of our last box, something caught my eye. A hardcover, still jacketed edition of FNL. I’ve read the book before and seen the flick. Despite being a self described mathlete, I’m still a Texan and MOJO Football is an interesting topic. Also, as I’m stuck out here in Tatooine (Monahans) and I’ve previously been a resident of Mos Eisley (Midland/Odessa [if you don’t remember, I referred to Midessa as Mos Eisely because you’d never find a more retched hive of scum and villainy. Sadly, no Cantina Band]) so this book carries a little residential nostalgia.

I start thumbing through the book. Not brand spanking new or mint condition by any means, but it is in decent shape. Natural curiosity got me going and I started researching. Initial investigations to my untrained eye resulted in me debating whether or not we had stumbled upon a First Edition. I thought we had, but wanted a second opinion.

When I made it back home to South Texas, I ran into San Antonio and hit up a few book shops. I’ll get sidetracked here for a minute as I explain why I went to a few shops. I made my way downtown, near the old Pearl Brewery to a neat little bookshop. Unfortunately, they did not dwell in old classic books or buying aforementioned old classic books. They did point me in the right direction though. I got turned around in the downtown area and stumbled into an infection of hipsters. My Lord, I thought I had somehow transplanted into Austin.

There were skinny jeans. There were craft beers. There were tacos. And. There. Were. Dogs. My word, I love my dog and can honestly say I haven’t met a pooch I didn’t like. What I will say is that Walker is perfectly happy guarding the farm and probably doesn’t need to walk around downtown SA with all the other knuckleheads. The dogs aren’t the problem, it’s the hipsters. Out of all the stuff I mentioned there being in this area, hard work and calloused hands aren’t among them.

“Oh, me and Rover are going to make a run down to the Pearl.”

Rover proceeds to shit on the sidewalk. Because she’s a dog. [Admit it, you thought Rover was a boy dog. You just assumed that dog’s gender and that makes you an asshole.]

“Oh silly pooch.” Hipster fails to pick up after his dog and leaves a mound of crap for someone else to worry about.

Now, I’m not saying that I run around with a baggy and pick up deposits. I don’t, because we live on a farm. If you are going to be that person who takes their pet out in public, don’t be a douchebag about it. And if you must? Stay in Austin and do it and let San Antonio stay the way it should be. Fucking Hipsters.

Anyway, rant over.

Almost. Quit blowing your trashy ass vape around everywhere.

Rant over.

Rentable Scooters.

Ok, Rant officially over.

So I made my way to the classic book shop where I had a wonderful conversation with the shopkeep. If you ever find yourself in San Antonio with time to spare, make sure you check out Cheever Books. She helped me investigate the truth into my find and these are the results:

Re-print of the First Edition.

Kind of like being the slowest leg of a gold medal relay team. Sort of. Again, mathlete.

What we did find were some comparable values. All in all, the books monetary value ranges from $25-$350, heavily dependent upon whether or not it is signed. [Fun fact, my book isn’t.] But that is where this post comes in! Remember the old title we talked about earlier? Well, pigeon-eyed observers will notice that I did in fact add something…A Trade!

That’s right. I’m not terribly concerned with selling this old book, but I’m always interested in a trade.

Do you have a sports memorabilia collector in your life who would love this book?

Do you know H.G. Bissinger or have stalked out the best location to spring up and get an autograph?

Do you just like anything Texas related like I do and want it for yourself?

Make me an offer. You have an old no stringed mandolin that has been converted to a nightlight? That’s pretty neat. You have a map to treasure? I sure hope that it is Forrest Fenn’s Treasure. Regardless, I’m down.

The really neat thing about really neat things such as an old copy Texas memorabilia is that I don’t mind keeping it around, but if you think you have something worth a trade, get in touch and we’ll make a deal!

Until then, take care Pigeon Handlers.


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