The Borders Bummer and BAM

Like many folks, I love to read.  Reading is my special time when I zone everyone out and dive completely and relentlessly into the pages of a book.  I used to also zone everyone out and dive completely and relentlessly into Borders book store, but now they are no more.

I miss Borders.  It was that place to stop after having wine and dinner with friends to go and peruse novels because we didn’t want to go home quite yet.  It was that haven for awkward teens to hang out close to midnight and get the first copies of Harry Potter and Twilight new releases.  I have to admit that I found myself with them on a few occasions (although I had dinner and wine with bffs beforehand – thank goodness) to get these hardback reads.  I miss Borders.

Sometimes, I would just go to Borders alone and look at books that I would never intend to buy – such as cookbooks or the art of paper mache.  I looked at the bright pictures in the coffee table books, glanced through the sports biographies and always ended up in the literature section.  It was almost a freeing experience.  I was a bird, flying through a magical maze of typed paper trees.  Ah – happiness.  I didn’t even have to buy anything (but I always did).  I could just browse in a quiet, welcoming environment and even sip on an expresso if I was in the mood.  I miss Borders.

This past summer, I refused to believe the rumors about the progressing end of Borders.  It wasn’t until a friend suggested we meet there and look at the discounted books that it hit me.  Borders was leaving and there was nothing I could do about.  My heart ached.  My teeth chattered.  My eyes got teary.  I felt like weeping.  It was the end of an era for me.  Darn the Nook.  Darn the Kindle.  Darn the iPad.  Darn  (I must be honest, though, I have a Kindle, iPad and Amazon Prime).  So, darn me.

Border’s in our area was replaced by Books a Million, or BAM for short.  The only time I want to hear BAM is from Emeril, not a bookstore.  As I walked through this Borders wannabe, I felt my skin crawl.  I couldn’t understand the price stickers, and I couldn’t find a helpful employee to explain them to me.  Basically, I couldn’t buy anything.  Nada.  That has never happened to me before.  I actually walked out without a nugget of a book.  Not even a pen or a playful notebook.  Zero, zilch, zip.  Nothing. Darn.

So, Borders, just know that even though you are gone, you are still missed by me.  I will click around on Amazon, but it is not the same.  I will download books on my Kindle, but I will forever miss your reading recommendations and staff favorites.  Now, I will pursue book suggestions from blogs and Amazon.  I will join the 21st century.  Darn.  And bam.

Looks like Borders, but it is not. Sniff sniff.