I can't afford to lose much more. My soul is just about gone. I guess this is what you get for growing old.
Allow me to take you back to a simpler time of life. Around, oh, 1980. I was young, carefree. In love with books and music and the movies. Some friends of mine were too. We used to go out and hunt for book bargains all the time. We were too naive and scared to chase women, so we looked for books and records.
We looked all over, but the best place was across the Chesapeake Bay, at a little area in Norfolk called Wards Corner. On joyous Saturdays we would head out for the thirty or so minute drive. Probably sipping a cold beer or two, lazing along. No hurries, no worries. We all had our problems, but not like what was to come. No, we were far more concerned about reading and listening to music.
The big draw was a record store there called Tracks. It was huge, with an enormous selection of new music. It also has stacks and stacks of "cut out" records. These were the musical equivalents of remaindered books.
I remember the first time I went. We traversed across the Bridge-Tunnel, and eventually arrived at our destination. Like an oasis in a arid desert, there was Tracks. But lo, in the same shopping center was a place called Bargain Books. The sign simply said, "Books". Really, do you need any more than that?
We would spend hours in the record store, then hit the bookshop. Bargain Books always had a nice mix of new and used materials, but to my delight they also had an extensive selection of collectible Science Fiction titles.
I found many books there. Those wonderful old paperbacks, with the compelling cover art. We always went back having spent too much money, but delighted with our purchases.
Time passed, and I would go now and then. Adulthood claimed much of my time, but I'd still go when I could. Sadly, Tracks died out about the time compact discs took over music distribution. I missed it, dearly, but there was still Bargain Books.
After I was married, we would go there from time to time. Seasons had changed in many ways though, and SF collecting had died down. Fewer fans were reading, and most became enamoured of visual storytelling. Stars Trek and Wars, and that sort of thing. Which was all fine and dandy, but when compared to the written work of the masters, those shows and movies fell way short. And the fans who were reading didn't seem to be reading the great old stuff that I always cherished.
But Bargain Books had a nice horror section in the 90's. A lot of mass market stuff, and even some scattered small press items. So I would try to get there when I could. Traffic was always a bitch, which prevented frequent trips. But I would go.
Then there was the enormous used area! Thousands of books were in there, and it was there that I spent most of my time. As the 2000's wore on, the Horror section shrank, and became devoted more and more to Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy. Steampunk dominated the SF aisles.
I didn't like it, but I can't blame owners for buttering their bread on the right side.
But, again, there were all of those used treasures. In recent years I would go buy up great old paperbacks from the 70's and 80's.
And there was a nice Thai restaurant right there. A gorgeous place, full of plants and exquisite decorations. Hand-painted wooden menus. I used to take my ex-wife there. I also took some dates to Rom Thai, and while we were there I would drag them into Bargain Books and buy them titles that they simply had to read.
Yesterday I was lonely and looking for something to do. I had worked out, walked at the park, and I read for a couple of hours. So I headed out to Wards Corner, to browse through the used books at Bargain Books.
I drove off the exit ramp, and around the corner. As I approached the shopping center, I saw destruction.
Oddly, the store fronts were still up, but the entire store area was down. I saw a sign that had the words, Harris Teeter, on it. For those who might not know, Harris Teeter is a grocery store. There was also a new WalMart right by it.
I sat there in my car, and I looked at the Bargain Books sign. With a lump in my throat, I realized that this would be the very last time I would see it. That wonderful store full of dreams and imagination and chills. Gone.
I don't understand why cities would want to look exactly like every other one. Well, of course I really do understand. Money. The root of all evil. I'm sure that many felt that the old buildings were tacky. I thought that they had character. Something that is missing in most cities these days.
I've always felt like an outsider, and up until a few years ago, the horror fiction community was a group I felt at home with. Now it seems like fewer care about books and buying them at local shops. Some might argue that e-books are books too, but I don't see it that way. Any more than I think an MP3 is a record.
Now I wish I had shopped at Bargain Books more. Not that it would have changed anything. I don't think sales were the problem. It was crushed by a tsunami of progress. It's happening everywhere. Corporations are stealing the soul of America.
At least I have memories of the many times I browsed at Bargain Books. Swooning to the delectable scent of old books. I can also remember the Spicy Red Snapper smothered in chopped mushrooms and ground chicken I had that time at Rom Thai. Or flipping through the records at Tracks with the enthusiasm that is reserved solely for the young. Or maybe just the drive out there. Cruising over the wide expanse of water, sipping a brew, or in later years, a Diet Pepsi or tea. Bursting with excitement over the marvelous wonders I would find at the magical stores on the other side.
Allow me to take you back to a simpler time of life. Around, oh, 1980. I was young, carefree. In love with books and music and the movies. Some friends of mine were too. We used to go out and hunt for book bargains all the time. We were too naive and scared to chase women, so we looked for books and records.
We looked all over, but the best place was across the Chesapeake Bay, at a little area in Norfolk called Wards Corner. On joyous Saturdays we would head out for the thirty or so minute drive. Probably sipping a cold beer or two, lazing along. No hurries, no worries. We all had our problems, but not like what was to come. No, we were far more concerned about reading and listening to music.
The big draw was a record store there called Tracks. It was huge, with an enormous selection of new music. It also has stacks and stacks of "cut out" records. These were the musical equivalents of remaindered books.
I remember the first time I went. We traversed across the Bridge-Tunnel, and eventually arrived at our destination. Like an oasis in a arid desert, there was Tracks. But lo, in the same shopping center was a place called Bargain Books. The sign simply said, "Books". Really, do you need any more than that?
We would spend hours in the record store, then hit the bookshop. Bargain Books always had a nice mix of new and used materials, but to my delight they also had an extensive selection of collectible Science Fiction titles.
I found many books there. Those wonderful old paperbacks, with the compelling cover art. We always went back having spent too much money, but delighted with our purchases.
Time passed, and I would go now and then. Adulthood claimed much of my time, but I'd still go when I could. Sadly, Tracks died out about the time compact discs took over music distribution. I missed it, dearly, but there was still Bargain Books.
After I was married, we would go there from time to time. Seasons had changed in many ways though, and SF collecting had died down. Fewer fans were reading, and most became enamoured of visual storytelling. Stars Trek and Wars, and that sort of thing. Which was all fine and dandy, but when compared to the written work of the masters, those shows and movies fell way short. And the fans who were reading didn't seem to be reading the great old stuff that I always cherished.
But Bargain Books had a nice horror section in the 90's. A lot of mass market stuff, and even some scattered small press items. So I would try to get there when I could. Traffic was always a bitch, which prevented frequent trips. But I would go.
Then there was the enormous used area! Thousands of books were in there, and it was there that I spent most of my time. As the 2000's wore on, the Horror section shrank, and became devoted more and more to Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy. Steampunk dominated the SF aisles.
I didn't like it, but I can't blame owners for buttering their bread on the right side.
But, again, there were all of those used treasures. In recent years I would go buy up great old paperbacks from the 70's and 80's.
And there was a nice Thai restaurant right there. A gorgeous place, full of plants and exquisite decorations. Hand-painted wooden menus. I used to take my ex-wife there. I also took some dates to Rom Thai, and while we were there I would drag them into Bargain Books and buy them titles that they simply had to read.
Yesterday I was lonely and looking for something to do. I had worked out, walked at the park, and I read for a couple of hours. So I headed out to Wards Corner, to browse through the used books at Bargain Books.
I drove off the exit ramp, and around the corner. As I approached the shopping center, I saw destruction.
Oddly, the store fronts were still up, but the entire store area was down. I saw a sign that had the words, Harris Teeter, on it. For those who might not know, Harris Teeter is a grocery store. There was also a new WalMart right by it.
I sat there in my car, and I looked at the Bargain Books sign. With a lump in my throat, I realized that this would be the very last time I would see it. That wonderful store full of dreams and imagination and chills. Gone.
I don't understand why cities would want to look exactly like every other one. Well, of course I really do understand. Money. The root of all evil. I'm sure that many felt that the old buildings were tacky. I thought that they had character. Something that is missing in most cities these days.
I've always felt like an outsider, and up until a few years ago, the horror fiction community was a group I felt at home with. Now it seems like fewer care about books and buying them at local shops. Some might argue that e-books are books too, but I don't see it that way. Any more than I think an MP3 is a record.
Now I wish I had shopped at Bargain Books more. Not that it would have changed anything. I don't think sales were the problem. It was crushed by a tsunami of progress. It's happening everywhere. Corporations are stealing the soul of America.
At least I have memories of the many times I browsed at Bargain Books. Swooning to the delectable scent of old books. I can also remember the Spicy Red Snapper smothered in chopped mushrooms and ground chicken I had that time at Rom Thai. Or flipping through the records at Tracks with the enthusiasm that is reserved solely for the young. Or maybe just the drive out there. Cruising over the wide expanse of water, sipping a brew, or in later years, a Diet Pepsi or tea. Bursting with excitement over the marvelous wonders I would find at the magical stores on the other side.
The author does not allow comments to this entry
No comments