That is how I discovered that my beloved Bookstop, which since 1982 housed in the shell of a 1930s Art Deco movie theatre the most extensive book and magazine collection I’d ever seen until I moved to Portland and visited Powells, is gone.Forever.
On September 15 of this year, the doors closed without my knowing it.
This is how life breaks your heart, over and over. I cannot tell you the number of school days I skipped to drive an hour downtown to visit this bookstore after one of my boyfriends took me there on a first date. I remember that night we went there, just before we went to see “Priscilla: Queen of the Desert,” which was the first time I was exposed to queer culture or drag culture in a sympathetic light. As someone who was already aware of my own confusion about my bisexuality, seeing the film was an important moment for me. The boyfriend didn’t last long, but the Bookstop! That Bookstop was one of my top five favorite places in the world! The first time my husband visited me and met my family and friends, I took him there, and I remember that his enjoyment of it endeared him to me all over again. The one and only time I took my brother skipping school with me, we had breakfast at that Bookstop, before we went on to go ice skating at the Galleria. I discovered two of my very favorite books of poetry at the Bookstop. That Bookstop was the first time I discovered that Vogue did different versions all over Europe and that not all models were skinny or pretty in the same ways that Americans expect them to be. I loved, I just loved, that bookstore. I got my college prep books there. I got my first travel books there. I dreamed there.
And I can never visit it again.
The theatre is still there. It now houses a non-profit that runs an annual film festival in Houston. But the thing that was so special about it, to me, was that it was a beautiful old building repurposed into a portal that took me places, first metaphorically, and later, literally. The Bookstop on W. Alabama was the place that made me think I wanted to be a historic preservationist (a profession I considered seriously enough that I applied and was accepted to a graduate program before I ever considered law school). A profoundly important place in my life, a formative place, is gone now. No review today. Instead, dear readers, I’d like you to think of a place you really enjoy. It could be a book store, a restaurant, a little gallery, or any place that is special to you. Think about what makes it special to you and, if you’d like, tell me why in the comments section. And if you can, go for a visit. You never know when your own Bookstop will disappear.
To love is just a word
I've heard when things are being said.
Stories my poor head has told me.
Cannot stand the cold
And in between what might have been
and what has come to pass
A misbegotten guess alas
and bits of broken glass.
Where do your golden rainbows end?
Why is this song I sing so sad?
Dreaming the dreams I dream. my friend.
Loving the love I love to love.
- "Long Ago & Far Away," James Taylor
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