You see, I would take a train home from school each day. I loved trains and rush hour traffic is dreadful in these parts, so the whole bit made perfect sense. The best part was that the train, SEPTA's R5 city-bound line, would leave me off at a lovely little train station in Wynnewood, PA.
There was a Borders directly across the street from the train station. I would wander that Borders for hours upon hours every week, especially during the snowy winter months when sidewalks were clogged with damn, dirty snow and I needed a ride home from Mom.
And herein lies my affinity for the Wynnewood Borders franchise.
Back in the glory days of compact discs, Borders was the place I'd get my music. Later, when movies began to matter to me, I went to Borders knowing they'd have the DVD and Blu-Ray titles I sought. As far as books were concerned, I didn't find an author/writer I could relate to until seventh grade. Once I discovered Kurt Vonnegut, though, Borders was the place I'd go to purchase his books. And then I'd purchase the same Vonnegut books again when they were re-released with new, colorful cover art.
After Vonnegut died in spring 2007, I'd always go to his section of the store, but knew I'd come away disappointed. Two volumes of selections of Vonnegut's short stories were released posthumously and I purchased both at Borders.
Borders is now bankrupt. though. All stores have been ordered to sell-out their products at heavily discounted rates. Considering that I'm wrapping up a summer internship at a newspaper and that I'll be heading back to Ohio State for football season shortly thereafter, my trip to Borders last night was likely my last one ever.
I found the store in a ramshackle state — truly a shell of its former self. And it was sad. Local consumers have descended on the store like swarms of locusts in recent weeks and taken the place apart — literally.
Talk about "everything must go" — the store is advertising the sale of office supplies, entire book shelves, in-store furniture — everything, all of it. And then there's the more conventional items like books, CD's, DVD's and Blu-Ray, which have also been lifted by the locusts, err, locals.
All the good stuff was picked over when I arrived on the scene last night. However, I can tell you that a good many copies of "Moby Dick" still remain. There's also a healthy stack of Sarah Palin's "America By Heart" available.
You know, just in case you're interested.
You know, just in case you're interested.
After a quick survey of the store, I dutifully scavenged about in search of items that needed rescuing from the decaying Borders. I was disturbed by the sights during my rescue mission, though — CD cases that had been ripped open and robbed of the discs. Classic novels tossed into bargain bins. And again, enough copies of "Moby Dick" to match the weight of an actual whale.
Needless to say, I found very little that was worthy of rescuing. I deemed only two items worthy of purchase: Futurama: Season 1, and a re-release of "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee.
That was it.
I came upon the worst casualty of my mission when I trudged over to the Vonnegut section and saw that it was all but gone. There were a couple copies of "Cat's Cradle," but that was it.
My Heart ached.
I frantically searched all the neighboring shelves and sections but found nothing. What had previously been my most convenient and comprehensive supply of Kurt Vonnegut books had bled dry during the fall of this Borders franchise.
I really hope the Vonnegut titles were bought by happy people that will realize and enjoy the humor of the books.
Anyway, once I saw that the Vonnegut was gone, I knew I needed to leave. That, or stay and admire what was surely the largest and most impressive collection of identical-looking copies of "Moby Dick" the world has ever seen.
I'll never again set foot in that Borders. I spent a considerable portion of my life reading, studying and, really, just being happy there, so it stings a bit to see it go. The colors on the walls of the store were warm, the selection of things to read in-store or buy was expansive and I have many fond memories of the place.
Vonnegut had a saying about death which was popularized after his book, "Slaughterhouse-Five," achieved commercial success. The saying was a callous yet hilariously realistic remark on the passage of time, as well as death. The saying is: "So it goes," and Vonnegut would have spoken it to me if he had accompanied me to Borders last night.
So it goes, indeed.
-PB
(I'm tired of typing, I'll edit typographical errors later)
