In that
book are the clever “2 good 2 B 4gotten” (we were well ahead of our time) notes
from friends and exhortations from elders and teachers who were part of my life
during late elementary school years. I also had an autograph dog. It was a tan dachshund
of some material easy to write on. There was an elastic piece that held a pen.
That memento went the way of many childhood treasures once I left for college,
but the book remained.
Once in junior high, autograph book and dog were replaced by the yearbook. There, friends and school chums reminded me of something funny or happy during the year and wished me a good summer. In senior year, such notes took on more nostalgia and good wishes themes. Best friends wrote whole pages.
Adults pack away autograph books and yearbooks and go for the real thing – signed copies of works by favorite authors. In some cases a signature adds worth to the publication. At the Oak Park Library annual book sale there is a table set aside for such more valuable books. I once stood in line for P.D. James and was delighted when the little pixie of a woman made her mark in my book; however, said book is no longer in my library. Perhaps it made it to that table at the book fair. Since I have a brief personal knowledge of such a thing, I will share that I found it a thrill to be asked to sign a book that has your name on it but obsessed over what to write.
I suppose that in today’s world we might hope for an email or personal text from a celebrity, a different form of an autograph, although I wouldn’t hold out hope. The only fan letter I ever wrote was to Leonard Bernstein after I either heard or saw his Mass in the every early 1970s. After many months I got a typewritten note signed by an assistant thanking me for my interest in the composer’s work. Ah, well, not one for the autograph book.
What old and new treasures are on your shelf? Whose autograph do you wish was there? Whose autograph would you stand in line to get?
Marilyn
Once in junior high, autograph book and dog were replaced by the yearbook. There, friends and school chums reminded me of something funny or happy during the year and wished me a good summer. In senior year, such notes took on more nostalgia and good wishes themes. Best friends wrote whole pages.
Adults pack away autograph books and yearbooks and go for the real thing – signed copies of works by favorite authors. In some cases a signature adds worth to the publication. At the Oak Park Library annual book sale there is a table set aside for such more valuable books. I once stood in line for P.D. James and was delighted when the little pixie of a woman made her mark in my book; however, said book is no longer in my library. Perhaps it made it to that table at the book fair. Since I have a brief personal knowledge of such a thing, I will share that I found it a thrill to be asked to sign a book that has your name on it but obsessed over what to write.
I suppose that in today’s world we might hope for an email or personal text from a celebrity, a different form of an autograph, although I wouldn’t hold out hope. The only fan letter I ever wrote was to Leonard Bernstein after I either heard or saw his Mass in the every early 1970s. After many months I got a typewritten note signed by an assistant thanking me for my interest in the composer’s work. Ah, well, not one for the autograph book.
What old and new treasures are on your shelf? Whose autograph do you wish was there? Whose autograph would you stand in line to get?
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