Border-ing on insanity

They are closing the book on Borders.

It is not a happy chapter for employees or a book lover like myself who enjoyed the company's vast selection of publications, music and dependable customer service.

Borders' smorgasbord of fine coffee and food was worth spending a few bucks, too. And if a Borders' customer specialist couldn't help you find a book or CD on the shelf, they would order the item online.

For this family of three — all voracious readers — Borders was worth the excursion to hang out at its Brunswick and South Portland stores. We made a day of it and it gave us an excuse to nurse a strong cup of coffee while my son perused books, and there was always the $5-and $10-pile of discounted kids and cook books. 

We often met kind, well-read people who ignored their laptops, IPods and television sets for an afternoon of browsing through hardcovers and paperbacks. We talked face to face with other book lovers instead of communicating online or sending mundane text messages filled with misspellings and acronyms.    

Borders was paradise for a library lover like myself. I know Borders was wired for the Internet, allowing college students to commandeer cafe seats and sip coffee for hours in front of their personal computers.

No thanks! I was there for a good book. 

Sitting in front of a damn computer screen to check out Facebook or view another useless video on YouTube at Borders was a straight waste of my time. Who cares what's going on across the Net. I was surrounded by books of literature, science and history. My phone was off. I was enjoying Borders' library-like atmosphere, thinking about my next muffin, and debating which history book I should read.

At home, technology takes a back seat to a great book. Our cable TV provides only 12 channels (there really is nothing on), there are no video games, and our cell phone costs $10 with no contract. We own a Mac and I love this bucket of bolts, but it is not a book. I don't need to be multi-tasking or checking my email every minute of my short life.

If you want to reach me, call or even better — write me a letter and I will include you in my will.

You see, Borders had it all — just like Bogie and Bacall in "Key Largo."

So what the hell happened here!

I realize there are a handful of reasons why Borders will go dark. There's the Internet, e-book readers (a real waste of money), computer notebooks, and people who appear more uninformed and find reading a book a chore. There are so many high-tech distractions that it has made it impossiblefor all of us — especially members of the point-and-click generation — to concentrate on devouring a hardcover.

My mother believed every household should be littered with books, newspapers and magazines. She knew there was pertinent knowledge tucked away in all those pages of type. She lived long enough to witness high technology take a foothold in our daily lives, and she lamented when newspapers put their stories on line. I marched right in step with her keen observations. She marveled at a book's clever jacket cover and its strong binding. She thought the Internet was a quick fix and lacked depth, and boy do I agree with her.

Books give you a handle on the Cuban missile crisis or the decisive Union victory at Gettysburg. When I read a book about a certain event or period of history, I know a writer has done his homework and put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into his work. To understand these moments in history takes more than a visit to Wikipedia or some obscure web site.

That's where Borders came in and sold great, big books chronicling great, big events in our brief lives.

I know you are reading this blog via the Net and wondering what the hell is this hypocrite talking about when it comes to the demise of Borders. Well, I write and edit for a newspaper. It is a real, honest to goodness broadsheet. I enjoy holding a newspaper and a book. I like the feel of these literary works in my hand and their portability.

And that is why I refuse to read everything on line or my eyes would bleed.

I will miss Borders and those Sunday afternoons chasing after my son, who often found himself lost in isles of books and magazines. 

I will miss the coffee, too.

For those of you who view my stuff on line, I thank you

Now you can go back to that literary work you were reading, but that book will no longer be available at Borders — and that is a travesty for book lovers who cherish the printed word — and good coffee.