a little hole in the wall

[eor]

The town I lived in growing up in Florida did not have much to appeal to a kid. It had the beach and it had a library which primarily served the retiree population. The beach wasn't much for intellectual stimulation, though the water was nice. The library had lots of books, most of which didn't interest me. After five they rolled the sidewalks up and everyone went home.

On the main street there were a bunch of shops including two bookstores. The larger of the two sold books about Florida to tourists and coffeetable books to retirees. While I was there I never quite realized how unusual the other bookstore was, but I kept going back.

It was a tiny place, double sided shelves running down the center and shelves on the walls, two simple aisles forming a "U" at the back of the store. In all, it was a space the size of the waiting line at Borders. The sections were microcosmic. The science fiction selection was contained on one shelf, occasionally making it down to the next shelf, maybe 30 paperbacks in all at the most packed times. But in that space, the man that ran the store offered better quality and more variety than the thousands of square feet of shelf space available to today's retailers.

I'm not sure which sci-fi book I bought from there first. I suspect it was Roger Zelazny's "Roadmarks." The time period fits right and knowing my young self the idea of the book would have captured me. I soon knew I was hooked, making regular pilgrimages to make my next selection.

What I didn't realize at the time was that I was given a choice, but a very selected choice. There were no losers rubbing shoulders in that limited lineup. Isaac Asimov could easily lean back and chat with Roger Zelazny at the other end of the line. In succession great authors were rotated in an out, in by the proprietor, out by my sweaty little hands. Only later did I realize what an amazing culling process he must have gone through to stock those small shelves.

How many people have the opportunity to dine at a table so tastefully adorned?

I'm sure the proprietor and the store are long gone. I owe a debt to him that will forever go unpaid. There have been other bookstores since then, but you always remember your first.