Something no one ever tells you in life is how difficult shopping for one person can be. I'm sure back in the days where everything was in an open air market in the center of town, shopping for one was likely a breeze. Nothing was pre-packaged into sizes that make sense for large families or people who eat like large families, but for those of us who enjoy about four ounces of protein and fresh produce, good luck.
I spend an inordinate amount of time at the grocery store. Each of has our place of faith, mine just happens to be the local Wegman's, though I can also keep the faith in a ShopRite, Trader Joes, local farmer's market or if the gods be cruel, Whole Foods. I went to Wegman's today, as I left Target, a place to buy food, with nothing but an empty basket, as I was disappointed with all of the narrow-necked salsa jars and lack of a meaningful tortilla chip selection. Not to mention the lack of decent bread.
So, with two bags from the farmer's market, because I needed produce for Sweetiepig and there were no mushrooms in the house, yet about three pounds of beef, I trekked across the county to Wegman's. I live about seven miles or 18 grocery stores away from Wegman's, but they do have the best selection and prices, though their meat tends to be a little overpriced.
Upon arrival, I was heartened that the store was not full of panicking shoppers and not bereft of shopping carts like Target where I literally took the last one. I manage to navigate the deli counter, one of the few shopping for one friendly places in the supermarket, as I am not trying to figure out how much Soppressata can one person eat.
Walking over to the meat counter, I was faced with family packs of meat, as if people who live alone have never cooked a meal in their lives. Having three pounds of steak in my freezer from Sunday's excursion to the store, I agonize for about 5 minutes as to whether to buy some pre-cooked pulled pork. I like pulled pork, but the odds of me cooking a pork shoulder to this point are none. It takes a long time to get this done and pork comes in multiple pounds, which is more than I can or should eat before spoilage seeps in.
I finally relent and purchase a one pound package, since I wanted pulled pork, but was uncertain as to whether I wanted to eat pulled port for three days in a row, since I don't feel I can freeze it, nor do I feel I can save it beyond that point. It's terrible, because I'd like a smaller package since no one else will eat it here. And too often that is the choice I feel I need to make at the grocery store. How many days in a row can I eat the same thing? Or why do things come in three pound packages?
Eventually, my freezer becomes the graveyard of forgotten meat. Something goes in the freezer, then sits and waits for me to think, "Hey, let's prepare for a meal and take something out of the freezer."
This is a seldom occurrence, as I would rather wing it, even though that means eating more pasta and grilled cheese sandwiches than I would like, because it is easier. Sometimes the cheese dies a valiant death in the refrigerator, sometimes I get to finish it, but even at half a pound, it is a race between cheddar and myself, one which cheddar usually wins...and loses.
I even agonized over buying rolls at the store. The bakery section left something to be desired, but I didn't necessarily want eight hamburger or onion rolls. Yet, here I was, wandering the aisles trying to make a meal plan fit, which I did with eight onion rolls, in lieu of fresh baked bread, as a storm is brewing and I could be locked away from access to fresh baked goods, a fate not quite worse than death.
So, as I moved forward, I will continue to struggle with the supermarket, even though it is my spiritual home, as I have for the last seven and a half years, fitting a life of one into a world of many.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Monday, February 3, 2014
Into the Void
Unlike certain parts of the country below the Mason/Dixon line, snow does not mean the end of life in the North. Of course, there are certain complications and being a piss poor driver, I do like to avoid driving a car in the snow, but usually enjoy a walk when the snow is falling.
I awoke today to see a world of white outside my window. I thought there might be an inch or two of snow today, but it appears we are set for six or inches. Fortunately, I had the foresight to go grocery shopping yesterday, which admittedly had more to do with the lack of bacon in my home, rather than a fear of an impending storm. Given this, I was set to ride out the storm.
With the big Manchester City/Chelsea game on television, I was prepared for a big day indoors. But at lunch, I thought, perhaps I will have some salsa and chips. Which I did. But this sadly finished the hot salsa supply in my home. The big game coming up and I have no hot salsa. What could I do? Well, there is a jar of mild salsa in the cupboard from days gone past that I could eat, but mild salsa is slightly better than eating chips with ketchup. I could make salsa. I actually had tomatoes, onion, garlic and even an avocado, but no limes or lime juice. Besides, is homemade salsa really sitting around watching soccer in your underpants food? I think not.
The third option would be a trip to the store. The store is 5 blocks away and I had 90 minutes until the game starts. I should be able to walk to the store in 10 minutes in good weather and probably 12 in bad. As the snow was piling up, bad was the word of the day. Also, I always believe it is safer to travel by foot when the snow is falling, since the ground has not had an opportunity to ice over.
Making a nod to the conditions outdoors, a hat makes a rare appearance on my head, gloves procured from my bag from the other day, I make way into the great outdoors. Over the rolling hills of not quite packed down snow, I went with but one incident. When you are walking in the snow, you are extra alert for car accidents, since you are squishy bag of flesh, while the vehicles, skidding around on the surface, are big, metal hulk of flesh bag squishing power.
Only one block away, I hear the tell-tale sound of a crash, breaking glass. Realizing no blood was oozing out of me, I switch from safety mode to interested observer. Despite living on the main road, there were no cars passing, so I had a hard time realizing what happened. To my left was the mechanic's shop that I've never been to and it seemed one of their doors was moving. And there were lights behind it from a car which was on. And a broken window. So, in the middle of a snowstorm, someone managed to back up a car, inside the mechanic's shop into the garage door, breaking a window. This is fantastic, since it takes a great amount of skill to get into a car accident going 2 miles per hour, when driving a car is a pretty central function of your job. But there it was, off to my left. After a second stare and a quick chuckle, I proceeded forward to the store.
As I arrived, I felt somewhat odd, that I walked in the cold and snow to purchase salsa, but I did. The store was short on people and food. There was nary a tortilla chip to be found in the store, but I was able to find a few jars of salsa not scavenged for the Super Bowl. With the salsa half-price and the fear of tomorrow's ice over the snow coming, I purchase two jars and trudge home, arriving in plenty of time for the big game, where no salsa was consumed.
I awoke today to see a world of white outside my window. I thought there might be an inch or two of snow today, but it appears we are set for six or inches. Fortunately, I had the foresight to go grocery shopping yesterday, which admittedly had more to do with the lack of bacon in my home, rather than a fear of an impending storm. Given this, I was set to ride out the storm.
With the big Manchester City/Chelsea game on television, I was prepared for a big day indoors. But at lunch, I thought, perhaps I will have some salsa and chips. Which I did. But this sadly finished the hot salsa supply in my home. The big game coming up and I have no hot salsa. What could I do? Well, there is a jar of mild salsa in the cupboard from days gone past that I could eat, but mild salsa is slightly better than eating chips with ketchup. I could make salsa. I actually had tomatoes, onion, garlic and even an avocado, but no limes or lime juice. Besides, is homemade salsa really sitting around watching soccer in your underpants food? I think not.
The third option would be a trip to the store. The store is 5 blocks away and I had 90 minutes until the game starts. I should be able to walk to the store in 10 minutes in good weather and probably 12 in bad. As the snow was piling up, bad was the word of the day. Also, I always believe it is safer to travel by foot when the snow is falling, since the ground has not had an opportunity to ice over.
Making a nod to the conditions outdoors, a hat makes a rare appearance on my head, gloves procured from my bag from the other day, I make way into the great outdoors. Over the rolling hills of not quite packed down snow, I went with but one incident. When you are walking in the snow, you are extra alert for car accidents, since you are squishy bag of flesh, while the vehicles, skidding around on the surface, are big, metal hulk of flesh bag squishing power.
Only one block away, I hear the tell-tale sound of a crash, breaking glass. Realizing no blood was oozing out of me, I switch from safety mode to interested observer. Despite living on the main road, there were no cars passing, so I had a hard time realizing what happened. To my left was the mechanic's shop that I've never been to and it seemed one of their doors was moving. And there were lights behind it from a car which was on. And a broken window. So, in the middle of a snowstorm, someone managed to back up a car, inside the mechanic's shop into the garage door, breaking a window. This is fantastic, since it takes a great amount of skill to get into a car accident going 2 miles per hour, when driving a car is a pretty central function of your job. But there it was, off to my left. After a second stare and a quick chuckle, I proceeded forward to the store.
As I arrived, I felt somewhat odd, that I walked in the cold and snow to purchase salsa, but I did. The store was short on people and food. There was nary a tortilla chip to be found in the store, but I was able to find a few jars of salsa not scavenged for the Super Bowl. With the salsa half-price and the fear of tomorrow's ice over the snow coming, I purchase two jars and trudge home, arriving in plenty of time for the big game, where no salsa was consumed.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Worst Super Bowl
This Super Bowl is nothing short of painful to watch. As it stands, the score is 29-0 in favor of Seattle. Fortunately, Chopped has a brand new pizza special on at 9 PM and I won't feel the least bit guilty about making sure I watch the final new episode of Sherlock at 10 PM, which I would've done regardless of the score or quality of the game.
On some level, there is a certain sadness for Peyton Manning. His life is filled with great victories, usually coming at a time when no one cares. Unfortunately for him, his entire team was greatly outclassed. I mean, I cannot tell you the last time I saw a kick off bounce on the turf, have three members of the opposing team basically run past that spot and then see it taken in for a touchdown. The fumbles, safety, poor tackling and to be honest, some poorly thrown balls have not helped either. But for the rest of Peyton's life, he will be forced to dry his eyes on the incredibly large amounts of money he's earned throughout his career, while every sportswriter, hanger-on and Johnny-come-lately lambasts him for being a loser. I think all of the money proves otherwise, but what do I know.
With regard to commercials, it was good to see Jerry Seinfeld and Jason Alexander together again. Though admittedly, I'm not interested in a true Seinfeld reunion. Somethings are best left to history and repeat viewings, though admittedly, I've probably watched two episodes of Seinfeld in the last ten years, even though I would consider it one of my favorite television shows of all-time and by far the best television show of the 1990s. Also, I saw Fred Armisen hug Bruce Willis and Kia lie to me that a new luxury car is on the way. Super Bowl, you brought nothing to today.
On some level, there is a certain sadness for Peyton Manning. His life is filled with great victories, usually coming at a time when no one cares. Unfortunately for him, his entire team was greatly outclassed. I mean, I cannot tell you the last time I saw a kick off bounce on the turf, have three members of the opposing team basically run past that spot and then see it taken in for a touchdown. The fumbles, safety, poor tackling and to be honest, some poorly thrown balls have not helped either. But for the rest of Peyton's life, he will be forced to dry his eyes on the incredibly large amounts of money he's earned throughout his career, while every sportswriter, hanger-on and Johnny-come-lately lambasts him for being a loser. I think all of the money proves otherwise, but what do I know.
With regard to commercials, it was good to see Jerry Seinfeld and Jason Alexander together again. Though admittedly, I'm not interested in a true Seinfeld reunion. Somethings are best left to history and repeat viewings, though admittedly, I've probably watched two episodes of Seinfeld in the last ten years, even though I would consider it one of my favorite television shows of all-time and by far the best television show of the 1990s. Also, I saw Fred Armisen hug Bruce Willis and Kia lie to me that a new luxury car is on the way. Super Bowl, you brought nothing to today.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
DDP Yoga: Week 4
Exercise and I are ancient enemies, like oil and water or cats and mice. Aside from walking, which to be honest, I've always enjoyed as it was good for clearing the mind, exercise was an anathema to my life. Yet, the thought of regular exercise in my life is farcical.
So, here I am, four weeks into DDP Yoga and I realize, that regular exercise is good for me. The hardest part is that exercise does not yield instant gratification. After a good workout, you have all of this pain and fatigue, yet you look exactly the same. Part of it is that you are holding back the hands of age. I started feeling older, probably when I thought I was starting to go bald, but that just seems to be some loose hair in the shower drain. But I still needed to make better choices to go from existing to living.
And DDP Yoga gets me there. The program is well-suited for beginners, especially out of shape schlubs like myself. At first, I felt pain, lots of pain, as muscles, atrophied from years of office work, were being stretched in ways that I didn't comprehend or want to accept. Yet, I persisted, which was out of character.
However, it is the little things which make it seem worthwhile. Some days, I feel taller, which is strange at my age. And it gets easier. For example, my heels are closer to touching the floor in Downward Dog and I no longer feel like I want to die right away when I start Red Hot Core. It's a gradual process and requires perspective to keep focused and motivated.
I've even given up soda. In the last two weeks, I've had one soda, while I was out and could not find a juice to save my life. Even the one soda had no caffeine, which is hard to believe, considering how much caffeine I used to take in every day, but it is the little things that I'm doing for myself. I definitely feel better and think I'm making the right decisions toward changing my life, which is what I wanted to do with the second chance I've been both handed and taken.
Also, DDP Yoga has the best customer service I've ever encountered. There was a defect with one of my DVDs and within 90 minutes, I received an E-Mail letting me know a replacement disc would be sent to me without any further issues. This was amazing in contrast to my experience with Sony, who required me to work with the online representative, then the phone representative and then required me to pay to send their defective cable back to them in order to get a replacement from a brand new box. It costs six dollars to buy a new cable, which takes Amazon two days to deliver or six dollars to send it back to Sony to wait another few weeks to get a replacement, leaving me bereft of a cable.
I guess it could go without saying that I heartily recommend DDP Yoga for not only having a great product, but the good sense to stand behind it.
So, here I am, four weeks into DDP Yoga and I realize, that regular exercise is good for me. The hardest part is that exercise does not yield instant gratification. After a good workout, you have all of this pain and fatigue, yet you look exactly the same. Part of it is that you are holding back the hands of age. I started feeling older, probably when I thought I was starting to go bald, but that just seems to be some loose hair in the shower drain. But I still needed to make better choices to go from existing to living.
And DDP Yoga gets me there. The program is well-suited for beginners, especially out of shape schlubs like myself. At first, I felt pain, lots of pain, as muscles, atrophied from years of office work, were being stretched in ways that I didn't comprehend or want to accept. Yet, I persisted, which was out of character.
However, it is the little things which make it seem worthwhile. Some days, I feel taller, which is strange at my age. And it gets easier. For example, my heels are closer to touching the floor in Downward Dog and I no longer feel like I want to die right away when I start Red Hot Core. It's a gradual process and requires perspective to keep focused and motivated.
I've even given up soda. In the last two weeks, I've had one soda, while I was out and could not find a juice to save my life. Even the one soda had no caffeine, which is hard to believe, considering how much caffeine I used to take in every day, but it is the little things that I'm doing for myself. I definitely feel better and think I'm making the right decisions toward changing my life, which is what I wanted to do with the second chance I've been both handed and taken.
Also, DDP Yoga has the best customer service I've ever encountered. There was a defect with one of my DVDs and within 90 minutes, I received an E-Mail letting me know a replacement disc would be sent to me without any further issues. This was amazing in contrast to my experience with Sony, who required me to work with the online representative, then the phone representative and then required me to pay to send their defective cable back to them in order to get a replacement from a brand new box. It costs six dollars to buy a new cable, which takes Amazon two days to deliver or six dollars to send it back to Sony to wait another few weeks to get a replacement, leaving me bereft of a cable.
I guess it could go without saying that I heartily recommend DDP Yoga for not only having a great product, but the good sense to stand behind it.
Friday, January 31, 2014
A Helping Hand
There are many things we take for granted in our daily lives. For example, I can get in and out of an ATM in about thirty seconds even if I have a complex transaction. However, there are still some people who might not be well-versed in a technology that we've used for the last 20 years.
So, today, I stopped to order some Chinese food, then headed on over to the bank to get some new cash to add to my wallet. It was late, after nightfall, so I waited outside the ATM while someone else was using it. The person inside seemed to be making a number of transactions, which is always annoying. However, after a third transaction, the lady in the ATM opened the door and offered to let me in. As I had taken my gloves out of my jacket to head to New York today, my hands were starting to chill and I accepted the offer.
Inside, the woman let me know she had other plans. She needed help. Now, for a moment, I was suspicious, but here was a woman, clutching a few dollars in her hand. She asked if I knew where the money was inserted into the ATM to make a deposit. I showed her that one of the slots said Insert Cash and said the cash needed to go into this slot. I also tried to helpfully point out the money needed to be face up and all in the same direction and stepped back.
However, the woman needed more assistance and I talked her through the whole process. I explained each step of the process, but was a little worried the woman was not literate. I tried to use location on the screen with each word, since I was uncertain, but did not want to cause the woman any undue embarrassment. She was able to finish her transaction and check her balance, leaving me the opportunity to complete my transaction in about fifteen seconds.
The woman thanked me and off I went, knowing that for once, I managed to help someone, which goes against my traditional, Switzerland-like resolve in the face of people.
So, today, I stopped to order some Chinese food, then headed on over to the bank to get some new cash to add to my wallet. It was late, after nightfall, so I waited outside the ATM while someone else was using it. The person inside seemed to be making a number of transactions, which is always annoying. However, after a third transaction, the lady in the ATM opened the door and offered to let me in. As I had taken my gloves out of my jacket to head to New York today, my hands were starting to chill and I accepted the offer.
Inside, the woman let me know she had other plans. She needed help. Now, for a moment, I was suspicious, but here was a woman, clutching a few dollars in her hand. She asked if I knew where the money was inserted into the ATM to make a deposit. I showed her that one of the slots said Insert Cash and said the cash needed to go into this slot. I also tried to helpfully point out the money needed to be face up and all in the same direction and stepped back.
However, the woman needed more assistance and I talked her through the whole process. I explained each step of the process, but was a little worried the woman was not literate. I tried to use location on the screen with each word, since I was uncertain, but did not want to cause the woman any undue embarrassment. She was able to finish her transaction and check her balance, leaving me the opportunity to complete my transaction in about fifteen seconds.
The woman thanked me and off I went, knowing that for once, I managed to help someone, which goes against my traditional, Switzerland-like resolve in the face of people.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
The Times
There are times, especially when I am driving in the morning, when I am struck by this thought, "Am I the only person in the world currently listening to this particular album or song?"
As a musical luddite, I still hold strong to my CD collection, though in recent months, I've moved to Spotify for listening to music in my home. I would say about 75% of my CDs are available on Spotify, which beats the whole getting up, walking across the room, flipping through the CD book, finding what I want, walking back across the room, waiting to burn the CD to my computer, then returning the CD before listening to what I want. However, there are times when this must be done.
It seems the biggest disconnect between my CD collection and Spotify is Moon Ska. Except for bands like The Slackers, Hepcat, The Pietasters and Toasters, who all re-released their music on another label, most of the Moon Ska catalog is not available on Spotify. Given all of their problems over the years and the paucity of bands still active not listed above, it is not a surprise that this monolith of the 1990s ska scene is underrepresented on Spotify. I look at some of the bands whose work I really enjoyed and see like 300 people favorited their work.
For some reason today, I had a real hankering to listen to the Skoidats, who are one of the few third wave bands who toured the East Coast who I never saw back in the 1990s, and one of the very few bands crossing over ska and oi, which is a pretty limited offering, but really hits my sweet spot. I've seen their songs played live by Inspecter 7, but until today never saw them live. Thanks to the magic of YouTube, I was able to watch them perform a thirty minute set in Seattle in 1998.
But I still wanted more. I managed to find my copy of Cure for What Ales You in my archives and took it in the car for a ride before. While I enjoy a Cure for What Ales You, I really wanted to listen to The Times, which is their first album. So, I came home and went back through the books, worried it was one of the CDs which was misplaced in a CD case, which would take significantly longer to find. Fortunately for me, it was not.
Since I needed to go to the store, I copied the CD into my computer and then headed to the car. As I was listening to the CD, I was thinking, is it possible that I am the only person in the world listening to The Times right now. Does no one else have the same appreciation for Still Standing or Whirlwind that I do? Am I the only one crazy enough to push the speakers of my car to the limit to listen to this very niche CD? And I think the answer is yes. It's strange to think about, but how many copies of the CD are there out there and then, how many people are having a real desire to listen to ska and oi mixed together.
So, here I am, perhaps the only person on Planet Earth with Still Standing blaring in their face and that feels good, a sort of perverse uniqueness which fills my sad, sad soul. But I do know that I won't give up and I won't give in.
As a musical luddite, I still hold strong to my CD collection, though in recent months, I've moved to Spotify for listening to music in my home. I would say about 75% of my CDs are available on Spotify, which beats the whole getting up, walking across the room, flipping through the CD book, finding what I want, walking back across the room, waiting to burn the CD to my computer, then returning the CD before listening to what I want. However, there are times when this must be done.
It seems the biggest disconnect between my CD collection and Spotify is Moon Ska. Except for bands like The Slackers, Hepcat, The Pietasters and Toasters, who all re-released their music on another label, most of the Moon Ska catalog is not available on Spotify. Given all of their problems over the years and the paucity of bands still active not listed above, it is not a surprise that this monolith of the 1990s ska scene is underrepresented on Spotify. I look at some of the bands whose work I really enjoyed and see like 300 people favorited their work.
For some reason today, I had a real hankering to listen to the Skoidats, who are one of the few third wave bands who toured the East Coast who I never saw back in the 1990s, and one of the very few bands crossing over ska and oi, which is a pretty limited offering, but really hits my sweet spot. I've seen their songs played live by Inspecter 7, but until today never saw them live. Thanks to the magic of YouTube, I was able to watch them perform a thirty minute set in Seattle in 1998.
But I still wanted more. I managed to find my copy of Cure for What Ales You in my archives and took it in the car for a ride before. While I enjoy a Cure for What Ales You, I really wanted to listen to The Times, which is their first album. So, I came home and went back through the books, worried it was one of the CDs which was misplaced in a CD case, which would take significantly longer to find. Fortunately for me, it was not.
Since I needed to go to the store, I copied the CD into my computer and then headed to the car. As I was listening to the CD, I was thinking, is it possible that I am the only person in the world listening to The Times right now. Does no one else have the same appreciation for Still Standing or Whirlwind that I do? Am I the only one crazy enough to push the speakers of my car to the limit to listen to this very niche CD? And I think the answer is yes. It's strange to think about, but how many copies of the CD are there out there and then, how many people are having a real desire to listen to ska and oi mixed together.
So, here I am, perhaps the only person on Planet Earth with Still Standing blaring in their face and that feels good, a sort of perverse uniqueness which fills my sad, sad soul. But I do know that I won't give up and I won't give in.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Brier Rose Books
There is little better than a great used book store. It is a literary trip into the past, filled with books you didn't know existed or even wanted, but sitting there on shelves, just asking for you to take them home and hopefully read them.
Too often, we are losing our used book stores, as people read less and the internet gives us access to large volumes of reading material, in addition to cheap and easy ways to search for the books we know we want. To be honest, it scares me that the average mall seems to have two baseball cap stores and nary a place to purchase a book.
Even sadder is the poor quality of some of the local used bookstores. I went to the Cranbury Bookworm a few weeks ago and was saddened to learn they moved from a house to a small store across the street. The selection was far less and the atmosphere was wrong. Princeton should have a great used bookstore, but it has a decent bookstore mixing old and new, not unlike the Strand, but with none of the charm.
However, I had occasion to travel to Bergen County this week. Having spent most of my life there, I was intimately familiar with Brier Rose Books in Teaneck. The store has been there since I was in high school, which was a generation ago. I remember going there every so often in my youth and walking the four or so miles from my home each way, especially in the dead of summer, because for some reason, there were just times you needed to buy books...and avoid the bus.
And despite not having a website, this is by far the best used book store I've been in. When you enter, the store just smells like books, which is either your thing or you are an ill-bred, illiterate mongrel. Visually, all you see are walls and shelves just filled with books. Knowing the store, I headed right through the stacks to see what was for sale. In the back are metal shelves filled with $1 paperbacks, which I perused and found a copy of American Gods by Neil Gaiman and In Cold Blood by Truman Capote.
From there, I avoided the main area of the store with the chess set and couches and moved to the history section. I found a book on the War of 1870 and a shelf of books on the Spanish Civil War, which is exactly one shelf more than I've found elsewhere. Moving through the war books, I found a book on World War I, which I surprisingly have not previously read and added it to my stack.
By this point, the proprietor came around and offered to take my books to the front, so I could use both hands. The proprietor genuinely cares about books and unlike every other bookstore I've been to, actually adds to the experience with his knowledge and his understanding of customer service. After my first batch of books moved to the front counter, I managed to refill my arms and make way to the counter, where all of the books I purchased fit into a grocery store bag, instead of having a single volume to carry out of the store.
Should you ever be in North Jersey, Brier Rose Books is by far the best place to go to buy books and I highly recommend you head there and leave with your own grocery bag of tomes.
Too often, we are losing our used book stores, as people read less and the internet gives us access to large volumes of reading material, in addition to cheap and easy ways to search for the books we know we want. To be honest, it scares me that the average mall seems to have two baseball cap stores and nary a place to purchase a book.
Even sadder is the poor quality of some of the local used bookstores. I went to the Cranbury Bookworm a few weeks ago and was saddened to learn they moved from a house to a small store across the street. The selection was far less and the atmosphere was wrong. Princeton should have a great used bookstore, but it has a decent bookstore mixing old and new, not unlike the Strand, but with none of the charm.
However, I had occasion to travel to Bergen County this week. Having spent most of my life there, I was intimately familiar with Brier Rose Books in Teaneck. The store has been there since I was in high school, which was a generation ago. I remember going there every so often in my youth and walking the four or so miles from my home each way, especially in the dead of summer, because for some reason, there were just times you needed to buy books...and avoid the bus.
And despite not having a website, this is by far the best used book store I've been in. When you enter, the store just smells like books, which is either your thing or you are an ill-bred, illiterate mongrel. Visually, all you see are walls and shelves just filled with books. Knowing the store, I headed right through the stacks to see what was for sale. In the back are metal shelves filled with $1 paperbacks, which I perused and found a copy of American Gods by Neil Gaiman and In Cold Blood by Truman Capote.
From there, I avoided the main area of the store with the chess set and couches and moved to the history section. I found a book on the War of 1870 and a shelf of books on the Spanish Civil War, which is exactly one shelf more than I've found elsewhere. Moving through the war books, I found a book on World War I, which I surprisingly have not previously read and added it to my stack.
By this point, the proprietor came around and offered to take my books to the front, so I could use both hands. The proprietor genuinely cares about books and unlike every other bookstore I've been to, actually adds to the experience with his knowledge and his understanding of customer service. After my first batch of books moved to the front counter, I managed to refill my arms and make way to the counter, where all of the books I purchased fit into a grocery store bag, instead of having a single volume to carry out of the store.
Should you ever be in North Jersey, Brier Rose Books is by far the best place to go to buy books and I highly recommend you head there and leave with your own grocery bag of tomes.
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