The prodigal bookseller returns

So except for the occasional Twitter update, sent via my cell phone, I’ve been more or less silent online since Thursday night. That’s because I forgot my laptop’s battery at home and didn’t have nearly enough power to see me through all my days in San Jose. I tried updating on Friday, my birthday, but that was when my laptop finally decided to give up the ghost and shut down all on its own. It’s incredible how quickly it went from three hours of power to two, then from thirty minutes to five — incredible enough, actually, that I don’t think I’ll ever quite trust those remaining-battery-life indicators ever again. Certainly, the next time I travel, I think I’ll remember to pack the battery and its power cord.

(Then again, who knows when the next time I’ll travel. I have all this vacation time saved up, but I’m not convinced that even Capfest 2010 is going to happen.)

Anyway, Friday was an interesting day, not least of all because it was my thirty-third birthday. Many thanks again to everyone who wished me a happy one, and sorry I wasn’t able to respond the day-of. Like I said, I was down to an ever-dwindling number of minutes on my laptop. The whole day was a little unreal, which I guess is only appropriate enough. I slept okay the night before, though I did wake up often throughout the night (as I would every night I was in San Jose) — once a little before five o’clock, when my cell phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. As near as I can tell, it was a wrong number from New York; I recognized the area code but not the phone number, and they left no message. It was an odd way to start my day…even if I did actually go back to sleep and start it officially a couple of hours later.

I woke up properly sometime after seven and, after getting showered and dressed, went downstairs in search of breakfast. As luck would have it, the restaurant hostess seated me directly next to my boss, who hadn’t yet ordered and invited me to join him. I had some very tasty eggs Florentine, and we chatted amicably for awhile before heading upstairs to start selling books. (Well, he mostly attending sessions and meeting with authors, while I did almost all of the book-selling.)

Around lunchtime, when we went to talk with some authors and the foot traffic at the booth ground to one of its periodic halts, I headed outside — specifically to the San Jose Museum of Art, which was directly next door to my hotel. Mostly because it was directly next door. At Heather’s suggestion, I mostly spent what little time I had there investigating their Real and HyperReal exhibit, and Ben Rubin and Mark Hansen’s The Listening Post. It’s an intriguing installation, coalescing odd yet captivating music from the chaotic chatterings and yearnings of internet chat rooms. It’s a surprisingly effective piece, and I would have liked to stayed longer, but my time was limited.

After the museum, it was a quick walk to Johnny Rockets for a burger and vanilla Coke for lunch. As luck would again have it, that’s where my boss and those authors were also having lunch, and I was two-for-two in my inadvertent stalkings for the day.

Then it was back to selling books (and reading Kaleidotrope slush when there was nobody to sell to) until 5 o’clock. After that, I went back to my room, called home to say hi and, of course, wish the dog a happy birthday. (Did I mention our dog and I share a birthday?) Then a grabbed a quick(ish) bite to eat at a nearby Mexican restaurant — at least partly at Generik‘s suggestion — and then went to the Star Trek exhibit at the San Jose Tech Museum. It wasn’t right next door, but it was right across the street. The exhibit was neat, although I think ultimately a little too expensive just for the chance to see props and costumes from the TV shows and movies. Like a whole lot I saw of San Jose, it was fun but not exactly the sort of thing that, by itself, would get you to visit the city.

I capped the night with an IMAX showing of Star Trek at the museum’s theater. I wish I could say the problems I originally had with it were less this time around, or that the movie lent itself to the splendor of IMAX. But while I still recognize that fun to be had in the movie, the things that were dumb the first time around were just more so the second time. And J.J. Abrams’ ungodly love affair with the lens flare got to be just a bit too headache-inducing on such a big screen. It wasn’t at all a bad movie, although I found the necessary brain-shutting-off a little tougher to do, and probably enjoyed it a little less.

After that, it was back to the hotel to iron my pants for the last day of the conference and get some sleep. It maybe wasn’t the birthday I always imagined, and it was a little lonely all by myself in a strange town — when I wasn’t, of course, accidentally shadowing my boss — but it wasn’t exactly half bad either.

Saturday, by comparison, was very uneventful. My boss left a little before noon, and I sold books until 3 o’clock, after which I boxed everything up to be shipped to the warehouse in Kentucky or our office in New York. And Sunday I spent mostly traveling, first from San Jose to Los Angeles, then from LAX to JFK. I got home a little after 11 and had a bowl of cereal for a late (or very late, depending on the time zone) dinner.

Today was mostly spent just laying about. I went to the bank, shopped for some new pants, and discovered that my car battery has almost certainly died. I’ll probably want until my father’s home — he picked me up at the airport last night, but now he’s away on business — then give it a boost and go buy a new battery. Man, with my laptop, my cell phone (briefly), and now my car, I haven’t been having too much luck with batteries lately.

Still, as the fortune cookie from tonight’s dinner out reminds me, “The real test in life is not in keeping out of the rough, but in getting out after you are in.”

Anyway, San Jose was really nice.