A year or so before he died, my 80-ish friend Jack loaned me Bridge for Dummies by Eddie Kantar, a great book about what Kantar calls “the best card game ever.” Jack’s copy had been signed by the author. Taking care not to bend the pages or damage the binding, I devoured the book and returned it to Jack.
         I had first met Jack years before when he was a physical therapy client of mine. He did his exercises religiously, and had a good recovery from a low back problem. A few years later I had another chance to work with him. His wife had died in the interim, after which he had immersed himself so deeply in bridge-playing that he did little walking or other exercise--which contributed to medical problems for which he was now again to get physical therapy. I had played bridge myself for years and knew the fascination of the game, but Jack agreed that he had gone overboard on sitting at card tables.
         By our last PT session, Jack had himself on a schedule of exercise classes five days a week at various senior centers and health clubs, and squeezed his bridge games in between. He meticulously wrote up his exercise schedule on his computer and gave me a printout.
         A retired chemistry professor, Jack liked my writing but once admonished me for writing that modern agriculture uses a lot of “chemicals.” “Everything is made of chemicals,” he said, “if you mean poisons, then say poisons.” Though I’m sure most readers knew what I meant by “chemicals,” Jack was of course correct and helped me to improve my writing. Anyway, Jack is now gone.
         I kind of believe there’s life after death, but I sure don’t have certain knowledge of it. I figure I’ll just try to live a good life, and will know (or not know) soon enough.
         I don’t think Jack believed in an unseen world, but maybe he was surprised. Maybe his spirit gave me a nudge, maybe another Hidden Hand led me there, or maybe it was just “coincidence”--though that seems far-fetched to me. I thought I’d look for some pants at a McKinleyville thrift store that I hadn’t visited in months. Near the store’s entrance were two boxes of books, and Bridge for Dummies jumped out at me. Sure enough, inscribed by Eddie Kantar for Jack, and Jack’s other bridge books were there, too--with his name and former worldly address on the title page of each. I picked out 12 good ones, and paid $10 for them all--probably less than Jack had paid for any one of them.
         While making my purchase, I saw another Jack there in the store--my editor at the McKinleyville Press. Pure coincidence, of course. We traded thoughts on local issues, then I carried the books out to my car. I came right back to the store, but didn’t find any pants that I liked.
         On other days, I have found great pants. And shirts, sweaters, books, mugs, plates, small appliances, silverware, and furniture. Thrift stores are full of treasures! You can save oodles of money, and you find things that catch your personal eye, instead of possibly being manipulated by product-placement experts who work for slick department store chains. You contribute to important charities and provide employment within nonprofit organizations. Some thrift stores are downright elegant. Thrift stores in richer San Francisco neighborhoods sometimes have especially good deals, because people with excess money or with plastic and a clothes habit will sometimes pay $50 for a shirt or blouse and then give it to charity after wearing it a time or two, if it turns out they don’t quite like the color or something.
         Strapped by stratospheric rents, more San Franciscans now turn to thrift stores, and prices have risen: $5.99 for a flannel shirt--what a rip-off! But still it goes to a good cause. I haven’t seen these price hikes in Humboldt County. Though I haven’t paid full price for a shirt or sweater in years, I draw the line at underwear and shoes, which I always buy new--the former for personal and the latter for orthopedic reasons. I don’t think most thrift stores even carry underwear, unless it’s new--merchants sometimes donate brand-new inventory remnants for a tax write-off.
         So get out to a local thrift store soon: Salvation Army, Youth Service Bureau, Tailwaggers, St. Vincent De Paul, Hospice, Rescue Mission, American Cancer Society, and several others. Make shopping an adventure, and sharpen your eyesight by finding those special treasures! And if you’ve got some good stuff lying around that you never use, donate it! Help it find a home where it’ll be appreciated--one person’s trash is another’s treasure.
         When I returned Bridge for Dummies to Jack, he offered to loan me other books from his bridge library, but I never took him up on it. I’ll be forever grateful to Jack for introducing me to the bridge players at the McKinleyville Senior Center, where I continue to play twice a month. And somehow, due to chance or to a spiritual nudge or to thrift store magic, I now have half his collection of bridge books. That will help me to always remember him.