This was my second time participating in the East Hampton Library’s fundraising event, called “Author’s Night”. We were all under a large white tent in Herrick Park on a hot and humid Saturday afternoon. From day trippers to locals to weekenders and fulltime residents, they all came to buy books and meet well-known authors such as Robert Caro, the imminent historian, and Tina Brown, former editor of the New Yorker magazine–and me, a not-yet-famous writer of newspaper columns. The author table placement was alphabetical so just as I had been assigned to the front row in grammar school, there I was, first in the line, seated behind my stack of books to sell, as the backed-up crowd filed in at 5:00p.m. sharp. The parade started at my table–and continued past it. My loyal friends and colleagues, nowhere in sight, were just getting out of their swim trunks at home right about that time. Many of the early visitors had traveled from “western” towns like Hampton Bays and Southampton. Some pick up my book and scan a few pages or read the cover flap. It is of no interest, nor am I, a sweaty, 80-plus-year-old guy with his book “Fishing the Morning.” Every face seems to have the same question: “Who and what is this guy about?” A brief chat: “Is this a book about fishing?” “Not really,” I answer. “It is a collection of my columns that I write for…” and before I can finish, they are off to the next table. For the next 15 minutes or so I suck on my water bottle and wipe my face from the sweltering humidity and embarrassment that I have not sold a single book. Next to me is Jim Acosta, the well-known journalist, highly regarded by many who watch CNN. All the liberals stop to shake his hand. 50-50 buy his book. And then finally to my rescue they come—a colleague, Amanda, and clients from town who remember a closing or two. Then local politicians, some who already have my vote and others who will in the future. My stack of books is shrinking. A few Rochester natives stop by to reminisce and buy books. Of course, my kids show up with support from their friends and a few more books move off the table. My neighbor Jim Acosta peers over to see how many I have sold and asks if I would like a beer to cool down. “Yes, thanks,” I say, and his girlfriend, standing by, goes in search of a couple of cold bottles for us. We both glance at our watches to gauge how much longer we need to sit there soliciting book buyers. Jim has had an easier time since he is so well-known from television. I’m a “minor” celebrity only among my satisfied clients and friends from over 50-plus years of living here. As the closing bell was about to ring, Patti helped me box up my remaining, unsold books. It was a good day—17 copies sold, all the proceeds to benefit the East Hampton Library. As I walked to the long-term parking lot, I thought about next year. Maybe a book just about my fishing experiences? I pulled out of my parking space and a book-buying friend across the way shouted out “Hey Lenny!” and gave me a thumbs up. Yup – a good day.
