Ode to Borders
Oh Borders, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways…
1. You (or Barnes & Noble, I can never remember) were my first stop on every visit to the mall since childhood. Unless, of course, we had to go to the dumb mall that didn’t have a book store, then my first stop was Claire’s so I could pay homage to those funky dangly earrings I knew my mom would never let me wear.
2. You knew that: New books + Coffee = What Heaven Must Smell Like.
3. You never went digital, and while some say that may have been your downfall, I can respect that.
4. You never got mad at me for reading magazines for too long and never buying them.
5. You watched quietly while I wrangled my kids on and off the escalator to the children’s section where they would then hoard every single one of the Thomas the Tank Engine trains so no one else could play. God bless your little bookselling heart for not saying anything.
6. For a long time you kindly offered both cassettes and CDs. Echo and the Bunnymen thank you.
7. You had more than just books, but I was in it for the books … and the cool pens … and the journals I bought but never wrote in because they were too nice.
8. You always had the most compelling display of new fiction right by the front door. I fear for my reading future without your suggestions.
9. You drove me crazy with all those toys disguised as books in the children’s section, but I forgive you. Somehow my boys knew I couldn’t say no if there was a book involved and they are better readers for it.
10. You know how to have a sale. Thanks for the 30 – no, 40 – no, 50 – no, 60% off of just about everything this week. I love you like a fresh pedicure and will walk all over you at those prices. I mean that as a compliment.
Thank you, Borders. I’m sorry to see you go. There won’t be another like you.