the encyclopedia salesman

an elderly

man comes to the door

with a satchel of books.

encyclopedias.

i invite him in,

because it's a thousand

degrees outside.

he takes off his hat

and shakes out his long coat,

then sits down.

i get him some ice tea.

do you mind if i take

my shoes off, he asks.

sure, i tell him.

sure, why not.

take a load off brother.

do you have kids, he says.

yes, a girl and a boy,

but they're grown up now.

one lives in Idaho,

she's a sheep herder,

and the other is in the wind.

someone spotted him

in Portland once delivering

pizzas.

let me get to the point

of my visit, he says, opening

his satchel.

we have a special deal on now,

a set of brand new updated

Encyclopedia Britannica's.

the latest version.

there's even a chapter on

Covid and a picture

of Dr. Fauci in there.

but why would i need them,

i ask him.

everything there is to know

is right here in my phone.

i hold the phone up to him.

ever hear of google.

there's no need for libraries

anymore, or books.

huh, he says. interesting.

i've never heard of that. but

tell me you this, sir, he says.

what if your battery dies. then

what? what if you can't find

your charger, or there's an electrical

storm knocking out the power.

then what, how are you going

to look things up

in the middle of a dinner conversation?

yeah, right.

i got you there.

so what do you say. fifty-nine

dollars a month for three years

and this set

of twenty-one books

can be on your shelf by next

week?

we take Venmo, PayPal, check

or cash.

so what do you say?

oh, and do you mind adding

some ice to my drink,

and maybe a small slice of lemon?