Every once in a while my husband the P-Dawg takes a Wednesday off to go fishing, but now that the weather is turning cold he is forced to spend time with me. (Click here for more information on how to ask your husband on a date). Today we were going to visit our old standby, the Cleveland Museum of Art, but decided at the last minute to switch things up and go to an independent bookstore instead.
We are both forty-one years old.
Regrettably, it had been several years since my last visit to Loganberry Books on Larchmere, and I’d forgotten how huge and wonderful it is. They have a really well curated selection of new and vintage books, a nice collection of local interest books and authors, an entire room dedicated to rare books and first editions, plus a cat. The place is a labyrinth of rooms with high ceilings, and almost every nook and cranny has a chair where you can park yourself to read.
Which I appreciate, because the last time I was at a Barnes and Noble all the chairs had mysteriously disappeared and I had to sit directly on the floor, a practice that my former Lithuanian folk dancing teacher may she rest in peace always said would give me (and anyone else who did it) hem-o-roids.
Being at Loganberry made me start feeling rather guilty about all those e-books I’d purchased and read on my Kindle. I am not opposed to electronic books or even Amazon (in fact I think both are magic), but I had to ask myself if it would kill me to walk into a brick and mortar bookshop every once in a while and throw down some money just to balance things out.
The answer is that it probably would not kill me, unless I drove there recklessly. I wanted to buy all the books at Loganberry to make up for four plus years of almost exclusive e-reading, but I narrowed my selection down to just three, plus a vintage map of Cleveland. The street I live on ain’t even on that map because it is new and utterly bereft of character, just like big box booksellers and Amazon dot com.
My husband the P-Dawg also loved the bookstore but was so paralyzed by the astounding selection of literature before him that he ultimately left empty-handed, even though he came very close to buying a book about trout fishing. I could have spent the rest of the day at Loganberry Books (and I bet they would have let me), but I had to leave because of extreme hunger.
If you live in the Cleveland area and you like to read, you must visit Loganberry Books! (And buy some of them.)Did you like this? Subscribe to the blog. (It's free!)