Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Renaissance Books
I go to this downtown used book shop as often as I can get there. The goal has been to replace a book of poetry with a new one as soon as I finish one. And I'd prefer going to the used place rather than the unconsciously stuffy poetry bookstore in the city's neighborhood west of the Milwaukee river. That place has the best selection in the city, but you have to have read everything in there in order to breath the air of that place.
So I go to this other place which has -- while not that many poetry books -- maybe the most books of any store in the city. The problem is finding them. They're everywhere. On the walls, on the floor, in boxes, piled on windowsills. Everywhere.
This place has more code violations that maybe any other business in the state, but it's still alive. I found out how they stay that way. It's often locked. I'll walk up the steps, pull on the door, and it's locked. So I almost walk away, thinking I'm out of luck, when the trusty owner appears out of the darkness to unlock the door and let me in. After I'm in, he locks her back up again -- gotta keep those city inspectors out.
Walking through the dusty, mess of a mammoth store (which has three levels of books), it's kind of sad and depressing because it's easy to see what it could be. But then again, it's his store. If he doesn't want to put his money into the place, that's his decision. And I feel a bit of sympathy for the little guy who's fighting city hall -- which would like nothing more for this guy to be out on his ass so the city could develop the building, whose property is worth a mint.
I was walking out the other day, when I heard the owner on the phone: "If you sent the bill, then I probably just threw it away, so you can send another if you want . . ."
So I go to this other place which has -- while not that many poetry books -- maybe the most books of any store in the city. The problem is finding them. They're everywhere. On the walls, on the floor, in boxes, piled on windowsills. Everywhere.
This place has more code violations that maybe any other business in the state, but it's still alive. I found out how they stay that way. It's often locked. I'll walk up the steps, pull on the door, and it's locked. So I almost walk away, thinking I'm out of luck, when the trusty owner appears out of the darkness to unlock the door and let me in. After I'm in, he locks her back up again -- gotta keep those city inspectors out.
Walking through the dusty, mess of a mammoth store (which has three levels of books), it's kind of sad and depressing because it's easy to see what it could be. But then again, it's his store. If he doesn't want to put his money into the place, that's his decision. And I feel a bit of sympathy for the little guy who's fighting city hall -- which would like nothing more for this guy to be out on his ass so the city could develop the building, whose property is worth a mint.
I was walking out the other day, when I heard the owner on the phone: "If you sent the bill, then I probably just threw it away, so you can send another if you want . . ."
