I’m monogamous.  Once I’ve made my mind up about someone or something, something HUGE has to happen to make me change my mind.


I’ve been true to the same brand of milk for years.  I lived in my first apartment longer than I care to admit.  And I still follow my college sports teams . . . Well, OK that’s a lie . . . But I do pay attention to UH goings-on, especially now that James Franco will enter the Ph.D. program for Creative Writing.


I think that the hardest thing for my family, now that the BORDERS at Alabama / Kirby in Houston is going away, is getting into a relationship with a new store.  We’re bookstore-people.  I’m the person who brings the laptop and the kids and ends up leaving with three books at the end of a four hour stretch.  I do this three times a week.

Now that my bookstore is closing, what am I supposed to do?


Well, I’m not ebook people.  Amazon isn’t going to get my money.  Well, not yet.  I won’t say that  I won’t ever buy an ereader, but I’m not there yet.  Price-wise, and what not.  Also, it’s all a bit Orwellian for me.  And yes, this irony smacks me in the face as I’ve got a Twitter and Facebook, and now a blog . . . I don’t mind people tracking what I’m saying, but I’ve got a problem with them tracking what I put into my mind.

My DVR worries me, too.


So,  I dated a few bookstores.  There are lots of local shops like Murder by the Book, which specialize – spectacularly.  And of course there’s Half Price Books, which is the little bookstore that could.


And all the dating led me here:  Barnes and Noble.  Sigh.  Free WiFi.  Coffee.  PLENTY of space to sit and be left alone.


So we did it.  Got a Member Card.  Bought our first books here.  And damn it, I like it here.  But I feel like I’m cheating on a just-passed-away spouse, guilt ridden because my new one makes a better chicken-fried steak than the last.