Hello everyone,
As we write this the continent is on pins and needles. The day after the election we had a number of weary-eyed folks come in just to be around smart things. We share the exhaustion. Much like last time, when the results were quick and unexpected, our shop became a shore upon which we, and others, sort of sat in unrepaired plainness, wondering what had happened, and hoping that even a little nuance and patience would somehow, even for a moment, improve what was in every analysis an ugly situation.
So we soldiered on. We did our bit. We supported others when we could. We got out of the way of others who were doing it much better. We continued to offer our couch to any expat American bookseller who wanted to make the move. Somehow late at night when we were deep in an essay or staring longingly into the future it appeared that things might just get better. We thought of friends and loved ones who would be royally fucked by the direction of the world. We said, “We are here, for whatever you need, to get us out of this shitshow.”
So it seems a little ingenuine to send out a New Arrivals email in the face of all of this. But we have to. We have to pay the hydro bill. We have to buy eggs. As Jason is often prone to say — as he’s prone to say in any circumstance — “I believe in reform, I believe in revolution, just as long as my 90-year-old Grandmother doesn’t lose hydro in the winter.” There are important things afoot in her village. The Ladies Auxiliary needs puzzles for the seniors to do. Margaret is wandering into people’s rooms at all hours. The Strawberry Social had to be cancelled for the Love of God.
Not to mention that yesterday an anti-masker was at our door stating all sorts of bullshit. Apparently this is the “biggest hoax in human history” and our masks are “making us sick.” We’d like to take this opportunity to restate that our first responsibility is to make anyone who comes into our shop safe and without, you know, the chance of contracting a potentially deadly virus. He was not allowed to enter, and after he tried to shame us for being stupid (and other personal things) he was rightly told to Go Fuck Himself.
Recently Grooves Records was review-bombed by a coordinated effort of self-righteous buffoons for refusing entry to a loud, politically-motivated, camera-in-hand, maskless publicity seeker. The bombing came fast and, fortunately, the larger, more nuanced arts and music community responded with their own campaign of support. What had fallen to a 3 quickly was improved to a rightful 5. And as these ratings mean such a difference to a small indie shop the pathetic battleground of online, performative branding was won by Grooves’ genuine supporters. We encourage you to give them a good review if you do go there and love their shop, as we do.
Please keep staying safe. Please stay smart. Stay vigilant and kind.
With love,
Jason and Vanessa
