My 5th grade colleague Alvin* was a self-proclaimed expert on everything animal, like me.  It was great to find an expert on all things dog, horse, and wolf.  We relished discussions on the classics by Jim Kjelgaard’s “Big Red”, “Irish Red”, Jack London’s “White Fang”, and “The Call Of The Wild” and, of course, anyone who knows everyone and anything about 10 year old’s nerding out on animals, “Lassie.”

I loved Collies.  I loved their wolf-like, German shepherd shaped nozzle.  It was pointy, not puggy or jowly, more like a wolf, and not like a Sharpei, Bull dog, Saint Bernard, or any other canine that drips endless jowls and the accompanying saliva.  I remembered arguing for what seemed to be hours in kid time but, in reality just a lunch time period about how a Collie could beat a Wolf in a fight.  After seeing the movie Lassie, I thought Lassie could do just about anything - Beat a Wolf, drive a car, pay the bills, invest in the stock market, go to the moon, place an order on Amazon of Kibbles and Bits… Wait a minute at that time the only Amazon around was the River in Brazil and some legendary, gorgeous, strong women.  For every objection I made,  Alvin would say:  “Not necessarily.”  It drove me nuts. 

“What about this Alvin!” 

 “Not necessarily.”

“What about that Alvin!?”
“Not necessarily.”

But I loved Alvin.  Other 5th graders were into Transformers, the original cartoon Voltron, Thundercats, and Diana McGee, the cute girl who wore private school plaid mini skirts with white stockings, had perfect smooth, gingerbread, complexion, and wore her hair with a few big fat chunky gorgeous pig tails and cute little colorful snap on pins.

I wanted to do something good for Alvin.  What a great guy!  He had a great smile, was easygoing, into school and loved books.  So I made an executive decision to lend him for only one week one of my treasured, vintage, expensive books from my private Black Stallion collection.   I carefully placed them in my knapsack and brought in the books the next day.  I was only up to about 5 in my collection.  Proudly, like a Curator in the Metropolitan Museum of Super Cool Nerdy Children’s Books, I said slowly: “Alvin, these are very special.  I would like to lend you ONE just for a week.  Would you like to read one of them”?

Alvin replied yes with a friendly smile.  I may have detected the slight desperation of Cookie Monster as he is offered a cookie. “GIMME GIMME GIMMME.”  It could have been my sensitivity to how precious the beginnings of this 10 dollar collection was.  And everyone knows when one agrees to be loaned something there should be a polite, gracious, acceptance with a vague hint of apathy so that one avoids desperation but skillfully projects the understanding of the value and the huge responsibility thrust upon you.

Of course, I was ever gracious as the curator of the only National Library of the Black Stallion in Queens:  “Which one would you like?”

He pointed to a shiny, blue, brand new book that I had not even opened, broken in, claimed, “The Black Stallion Challenged.”  

“Maaannnnnn.”  I said inside myself because my parents raised me not to use the other word that beavers build.” I kept the stoic face of a 63 year old librarian, nearing retirement, reading glasses, perfectly pressed blouse with a permanent shush on her lips and her index finger always ready to make the gesture.

I winced.  I had personal principles that I didn’t know I had until he triggered them by asking for, “The Black Stallion Challenged.” The newest book!  For crying out loud!  Why did I have to bring that book in?  But it was a collection that I was showing off.  You can’t leave out part of a collection when you display it.  I had to read my new book first.  It’s called the ownership principle.  I’m sure there’s some psychological study on this somewhere.  You need to touch something, to possess it, to feel it, to know it’s yours before you can just lend it out to any person, even a family member or friend.  But, as always, the consummate 10 year old gracious curator and host of any and everything Black Stallion in the Tri-State Area, I coughed out: “You may.”    “I just have a few ground rules for reading…”

*Names have been changed.