Spitball Army

Speaking of No Depression, I was really sad when they “folded” late last year. Not only was their bi-monthly publication consistently interesting and well-written and filled with good humor and enthusiasm, but the small staff was a joy to deal with, from a retailer’s viewpoint.

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Diane and Walter, my new travelling companions, are married and live just south of Birmingham. It takes me fifteen to twenty minutes to extract this information from them. Good thing I’ve brought a book with me.

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All wrapped up, nowhere to go but the bookstore.

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It is easy to see that this challenge smacks of the dieter’s challenge. “Maybe I’ll have just one extra slice/bite/drink…” Is it truly just a matter of will? How old will I be before I realize that I no longer need that deluxe DVD edition of The Lion King?

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There was so much vinyl – multiple copies of many titles, and what seemed like endless rows of classical music – that I was overwhelmed. The two guys working the store seemed overwhelmed, too, wedged in behind a small sales counter that was piled high with boxes of new vinyl arrivals.

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Flynn was at his Manhattan apartment on the day the planes hit. He jumped on his bicycle and headed straight to the scene, arriving in the area as thousands were fleeing.

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Mac would sit in the back reading or would roam about the store chatting with people in English and Spanish.

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He lay in his bed of sweetgrass telling over the touch of her bare arm that rubbed along his when she handed him back the nozzle of the sprayer for the fruittrees, or was helping him pile up the pruned twigs to burn, and the roundness of her breasts and her breath sweet as a cow’s on his neck when they romped and played tricks on each other evenings after supper.

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The list displays the following 100 books (hopefully in random order – how else to explain Les Miserables at #100, well behind The Da Vinci Code?), with instructions that allow you to take stock of how “well-read” you are (according to their parameters, of course) and allow you to pinpoint some reading goals.

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The subway system no longer takes tokens. They have taken the “branding” approach, as well, as the tickets that you buy from a machine (automation again, as at the airport) are called “Charlie,” as in “Charlie on the MTA!!” It took me awhile to figure out how to buy one. The lines to buy with cash were very, very long, and no one was purchasing at the credit card line, so I did that. It wasn’t easy, at first, all touch screen technology and menus, but I would be a pro a second time.

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