It seems that the bizarre times we live in (and the illness that shall not be named) are finally receding. The aliens have ascended, and hands on our wristwatch are clicking back into action. It’s become part of our personal histories, while still uncomfortably close, like a troubling ex moving into the apartment down the hall. Inasmuch as Carl Jung says to live with your shadow, the beguiling anti-time of 2022 walks alongside us, double checking our math, or more accurately, randomly shouting numbers as we try to add up the score of our current life. Despite this irritating interruption, folks are demanding public life, and it has manifested in our shop this past week in two meaningful ways.
First was a visit from a friend at the Friends of the London Public Library. We love the Library and we love the Friends. If you don’t know, they run the used bookshop at the Central Branch. They are all volunteers and raise money for programs across the library system by selling deacquisitions and donated titles. Volunteers raising money for library programs by selling used books? By Odin’s beard, we’re there! So, when this friend came into the shop and suggested that we have a shelf dedicated to the Friends, with their books proudly displayed and all sales going to the London Public Library, of course we said yes. We cleared that shelf off like a Kansas tornado. Now, in the sunny front of our store, there sits a bunch of beautiful kids books at $2 and $5, proceeds of which will help the kids of London, Ontario avoid becoming uncultured rubes. It’s work of the highest order, in our humble opinion.
The second sign of the changing times came in the form of our friend Sebastian, long-time devotee of the celluloid arts, consummate and obsessive collector, self-less promoter, and all around good person, who runs the FRAMES film series in town. He regularly (semi-regularly) screens real movies from his massive collection of prints, often at TAP, sometimes at our shop, and elsewhere. He stopped by the other day, shared his love with the dogs first, and asked if we’d like to screen an ass-kicking documentary about the founding of the Congress of Industrial Organizations, a 1930’s labour union, in celebration of May Day. Hell yes, we said. This Thursday night, we’ll darken the store to sit in the spooky ambiance of a night-time bookshop, hearing the clickety-clack of Sebastian’s projector, to watch a vintage documentary with friends. You are invited.
What this all means is that things are picking up. This past week we’ve experienced these two Real Life things, as well as students coming in, post exams–tired, poor, and huddling–to say good-bye before returning home for the summer. Some are heading off to another city altogether, where another bald and/or crazy bookseller will help their biblio desires. But hear this students: YOU WILL NEVER MEET A BETTER DOG THAN SNACKERS! (weeps into arms.) SNACKERS LOVES YOU AND SHE WILL MISS YOU! This is always a tough time of the year, when we project our feelings of loss on our puppers. It’s not us who are sad, IT’S OUR DOG.
We take note. We take heart.
Much love,
Jason and Vanessa
