The Quartzsite Trip by William Hogan

First Edition
Book VG+, DJ Good+/VG
Light bit of shelf wear, bottom corner of cover is minimally bruised. DJ is slightly worn at head and tail and corners and has three very small chips. DJ cover has few scratches but otherwise a great, vibrant cover.
Athenium, 1980

As you can see, I'm working on my copy descriptions and my book grading. Also, thought I'd mix it up and shoot the book with my beautiful cat, Charlie.
So, The Quartzsite Trip. In 1962 a team of teens travel to Arizona for a week of fun in the sun. Deeter Moss comes of age in this tale of growth, camaraderie, false pregnancies, and sex in the desert. I think I owe a good deal of my booklust to a teacher much like P.J. Cooper. My Cooper was actually named Mike Dallas; I'll name him here because I only plan to flatter him. Dallas taught senior lit at the high school I attended in Colorado during the early 90s. He was what I would now call an existential teacher: letting his students drive the discussions, focusing more on the big picture that crappy things like grammar.
Dallas also taught Outdoor Seminar, a philosophy class meant to drive us out of our shells. It was in this class that I first read Zorba the Greek, Bartleby the Scrivener, and a hell of a lot of Herman Hesse. It was also here that I heard about The Quartzsite Trip. Dallas noted once or twice that the book was worth reading, and that he always looked for a copy when in a used bookstore. Funny, but when he said that, I thought he must come across copies quite often. I now have at least two dozen books that I look for every time I enter a used bookstore, including The Quartzsite Trip.
Late into my senior year I found a copy of Dallas's esteemed book. It was in my brother's room, uncovered while I was snooping for contraband of one sort or another. I thought little of finding the book then, but now I think more of the matter.
My brother went through some tough times in high school. I'll leave out the laundry list, but let's just say he was an angry youth. Dallas did what he could for my brother: he tried to turn my brother on to cycling, gave him a bike, signed him up for Ragbri in Idaho. Dallas generally took an interest in my brother and, though my brother said all he did on Ragbri was drink, I think Dallas left his mark. My brother finally came through and still cycles, using exercise as therapy. I can only imagine that Dallas gave my brother this copy of The Quartzsite Trip.
As for me, I went on to become an English teacher myself, hounding high school students about their reading assignments and marking up their work with a a bright red pen. I think of Dallas often, but I don't teach like him. I'm hands-on where he was laid back; I dominate a room and he occupied it and observed.
I've read that The Quartzsite Trip was meant to be another teen reader must, like The Outsiders or The Pigman. Aside from the sex, I wonder why it didn't have more of an impact. I love the beginning, where Hogan lays out the political and social mindset of people during thew early 60s. I'm also fond of the narrative shift between characters. Only thing that rang as partially false was the end, where Deeter runs into that mousy girl and she's turned out the be not only successful and smart, but quite a knockout as well. That alone I could swallow, but coupled with the twist that the girl who entrapped Deeter during the trip ended up falling to her death while attending college the circumstances end up being a bit much. But I won't begrudge Hogan for trying to make the point that high school is not the be-all and end-all of our lives, far from it.
So I was thrilled last April when I went to visit my sister in New York and saw the copy of Hogan's book on her shelf. She and her husband had a lot of books, most of which were book club editions, but she said they were trying to get rid of them and I could have what I wanted. After scouring their shelves, I came away only taking the one book, though now I wish I'd taken more.

Fast Times at Ridgemont High by Cameron Crowe

First Edition Paperback
VG - slightly bent corners on bottom of cover and back. small black remainder mark on bottom of book. Number "4" written lightly in pen on bottom of back cover.
Simon and Schuster, 1981

As noted in my last post, Cameron Crowe's Fast Times at Ridgemont High is one of my books that I have yet to read and may never get to read for fear of ruining my only copy. I know how delicate paperbacks are, especially when the binding glue has aged, and am afraid of adding wear to such a fine (or very good to near fine) copy. I'm probably not making any fans among those who think it absurd to relish a book you've never read.
This is not a new dilemma for me. Right now I have four books on my shelves that I won't read until I get a reader's copy; two are new publications that I'm saving as "As New" and the other two are really old books that I don't dare drag to bed with me. I haven't talked about any of these four on this blog yet, but am exited to do so as soon as I've found and read their reader's copies.
Reader's copies: That there's the rub with Fast Times at Ridgemont High. I didn't even know it was a book until presented with one, and I haven't seen another yet. AbeBooks.com lists it's cheapest offering of the self-proclaimed true story at $70, and that's for another paperback in only fair condition; seventy bucks is a lot to spend on a reader's copy. I'd ask my wife to get me a copy through the Eugene Public Library interlibrary loan to read, but I doubt there's one out there, gathering Dewey-decimal dust, waiting to be checked out. For now it will remain one of those "I haven't read the book, but I've seen the movie" things.
So where did I get such a glorious rarity? Not too long ago my friend Chuck was visiting from Colorado (see the entry "Geek Love by Katherine Dunn" June 4, 2007). As a gift, he brought me this copy of Cameron Crowe's book which he procured at "Mutiny Now" at Second South Broadway in Denver. According to the card in the book, Mutiny Now specializes in art, coffee to go, and grossly inexpensive used books that they have not bothered to look up on Abe, BookSence, or Biblio.com. If you're in the neighborhood, you might want to drop in and exploit their oversights.
I say all this because Chuck bought me the book as a bit of a gag gift. You see, when Chuck last saw me I was a copy editor for a small mountain newspaper and have since changed career tracks and have become a high-school grammar and literature teacher, hence the copy of Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Neatly written (thankfully in pencil - the folks at Mutiny Now did one thing right) is the price of $7 on the inside blank page. Soon after Chuck left (like within minutes) I fired up the PC and looked up Mr. Crowe's book, ecstatic to find prices for paperbacks ranging from $60 to $1,000. Incidentally, Nudel Books is the antithesis of Mutiny Now.
My friend Chuck doesn't scout books, so he had no idea that I'd take such glee in his gift, and if he did scout them he might not have given me the book to begin with. Ever wonder if your friends will stumble across your blog? Nicholas from "News, Rants, Soliloquies, Reveries" was right, the road to hell is paved with $200 books. I miss that blog.
But blog nostalgia aside, I think I've found my reader's copy - the one that's cheap enough that I won't feel guilty thumbing through it. It's been here the whole time and the cost was only $7! I should have no qualms treating this book like a Penguin Classics purchased at the airport, right? Sad to say, no, I can't bring myself to do it. I'm too glutinous, too shamefully proud to diminish the value of my fine collectible to use it for it's intended purpose. Instead the book goes back in it's place on the shelf, only to be taken down when the right company comes over and says, "Oh, I didn't know that Fast Times at Ridgemont High was a book. Where did you get this?"
I can only hope that my company won't look at my walls lined with titles and ask, "Wow, did you read all these books?" What would I say then?