This year the Buffalo Street Books celebrates its 30th year anniversary, an age proudly stated for a local bookstore. Throughout the years they have provided literacy support, a comfortable environment for book lovers, a place for local authors to meet up, a community center in the very essence. I have been there only twice, browsing through the new releases and flipping over hard bound local interest books. Walking through the shelfs brings a lot of comfort. Books invite me, they lure me over, they have taught me to explore, at the same time bringing me to a safer place. It's a little difficult to explain how I feel, but it could be similar to a greeter at Church. From afar, you have seen him, smiling and holding the door open for you. He says "Good morning!" in the most genuine sense possible, making you finally believe that the morning is truly good. And then he ushers you in to a seat of a good view. You sit down, go through everything you are suppose to do in the Church and when it's done, you walk back to the entrance and meet him again. He will let you go, bless you his best wishes, and you somehow go out a changed man. That's what books do to me. Just seeing them lined up nicely, reading the back cover, smelling the pages, these things make your day. Unfortunately, instead of celebrating all these things along with its anniversary, the owner of Buffalo Street Books just announced that he just has no choice but to finally close down.
While it comes not as a shock, it just brings a wave of sadness. Five years ago, the current owner who was then an employee bought the store, knowing that he'll be preserving the ancient art of managing brick and mortar bookshop. He believes in all the values that a local bookshop brings to the community, but finally it is the same community that brings his dreams down. We have changed, haven't we? We go to bigger chain bookstores that have a lot more comfortable sofas where we can sit down and read from break to dawn. We go there for the coffee and the free internet to study or do our work. We wait for the 40% discount coupons to buy a book. And let's admit it, they just have better lighting. At the same time we look at the small bookshops with striped awnings and think about how cute they are and how precious that we have them. Unfortunately, being cute only doesn't cut it. Uuuw's and aaaww's don't make the register goes "kaching!"
What is shocking is when earlier today, they announced that Borders has filed bankruptcy closing about a third of its nationwide stores, including the only one in Ithaca. So very soon, we will only have one remaining bookstore, the last line of defense, which now I think it's gonna be there simply because it will be unthinkable for a town, especially a college town like Ithaca to not have a bookstore. Until now, I just did not realize that we have seriously taken Borders for granted. I go there often but very rarely do I come out with a book. It's often filled with people, but the truth is, they are not there to buy. The business just keeps on selflessly serving what they thought to be customers when in fact they are just there to crinkle the books. But, I've never thought that they are hurting that bad, until now. It's true what one of those cliches says: you don't realize what you have until you have lost it.
So, I look at my Kindle and thought to myself, "what have I done??!!" (eyes gazing upwards and fists clenching the air, for added dramatic effects). I've taken part in this murder, there you go, I said it. I browsed for a Kindle last year and I thought I'd actually prefer books, ones I can flipped over and put under my pillow or hug when I dozed off. But, a part of me somehow wanted it. Being economical, well OK fine, being cheap, I finally decided not to buy because it wasn't a necessity and I can wait. But, surprise surprise!!! On early November it was there in my mail as a gift, and I was as giddy as a kid high on sugar for the rest of the day. And I have to say, I've been hooked on it ever since. I've read more books that I would do on average, I love the feel of holding it on just one hand, I love that I don't have to lose my bookmarks, I can highlight without feeling guilty, the screen is fantastic, I fell in love. I wish Amazon had paid me for saying all these but rest assured they had not. One thing that changes the whole game is that it somehow allows me to be more resilient in reading. I think it has to do with the font size and the fact that there's only maybe 2 paragraphs in a page so you'd turn more frequently, making me feel good about finishing a page faster. I realized that if I spent a long time before I can turn, I get frustrated faster and would less likely finish it. I'm still not sure, but I think that's what it is.
So there you go. It's the end of an era. I take part in ending it. I have not decided if I should feel deeply saddened or actually excited for this evolution. It's saying good bye to a culture and embracing a new one, just like blowing a candle and switching on a bulb, right? Right? For Gary Weissbrot, the owner of Bufallo Street Books along with his employees, Mike Edwards, the CEO of Borders, and everybody potentially facing lay offs from Borders, I don't mean to be uncaring on these difficult moments, or brush off the anxieties of uncertain future, especially when you have done so very much to many people. I'm also sorry that it is this culture that has met its end, or at least close to it. It is this culture, amongst many others that should have rightfully be ended, that has to go through this.
Maybe this is the least we could do, at this moment of "grief" and as we let go of what we have actually loved for a long time: that we should all still rejoice over words, over literature, over the fact that people have come out different because of it. We should still rejoice over beautifully crafted sentences, refined passages, and intriguing characters. We still rejoice over the love of reading that brings people together.
In the words on the Beatles:
endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy
are drifting thorough my open mind
Possessing and caressing me
My Kindle is named Buffalo Beau to honor the last local bookstore standing in Ithaca, to always remind me of the smell of papers, and the feeling of browsing through shelves, the smile of a greeter, and how reading changes me.
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