RUDIMENTS, pt. 229
Making Cars
I forget exactly when it was
but when I got to Barnes &
Noble, about 1999, maybe
2000, they had just completed
building the store and B&N
was right then in the midst of
their vast, expansion stage of
'Superstores.' It was kind of a
new concept, in book retailing.
One they invented - the idea
was to be intellectually inviting,
for the reader-crowd. A coffee-bar
and a snack section - first-class,
high-end stuff : Godiva Chocolates,
Euro-pastries, relaxed atmosphere,
big chairs. People were supposed
to feel welcomed, as in an old leathery
study, to sit around, page through
books, write, think, whatever. I can't
remember, but I think in the beginning
smoking was still allowed. I ran, at
the early stages, a 'Poetry/Writer's'
night of sorts. My idea. They took
it up. It was vaguely popular; a lot
of the weepy crowd would come by.
English teachers and lonely-heart
ladies, Westfield School System
folks, scribblers, eccentrics. People
I got on with really well. I'd prepare
hard for each session, selecting readings,
copying poetry, arranging like soft
half-lectures about the subject matter.
People would talk, read their own stuff,
mutter about things, criticize, and laugh.
Me being me, I had little compunction
about what I said or did. People liked
me for that. I'd had enough NYC street
experience with the 4th Ave. Bookseller's
district, and the large, initial B&N at
18th Street and Fifth Ave., so that not
much scared me off. Loose, beatnik
inspired, irreverent. I was flying, and
I felt free - all that ABATE and
motorcycle stuff was behind me, these
people knew nothing of that, nor my
past life. Never mentioned. I would
just spout what I wished, and all sorts
of cool writing came from it. But, I
was adamant, there'd be none of that
workshop crap - people helping
people write. I couldn't stand that
stuff, and it all ended up in diluted,
half-warmed-over schoolboy and girl
over-chucked mush anyway. It came
close a few times, but I just kept
punching it away. We had this one
guy, he called himself the Love Poet,
and with his seemingly awkward
British accent he really poured on
the muck. It was hard to take, but I
never stepped in or shut him down.
He just ran his course and disappeared.
Another guy, gay as a pink ribbon,
called himself 'Voltaire.' He was
about 18 maybe, an emoter and a
real flamer. There was one tiny piece
of him that held a fine sense of humor
and irony about himself, so I let it
stay. Another guy got all bungled up
in the World Trade Center collapse,
where he worked. He just stopped
coming for weeks, maybe 2 months.
No one really knew his name either,
so we just figured he was dead. And
then one night he just rolled back in,
saying it had been interesting, the
absence, but now he was back.
-
One of the guys, Greg, is still around,
and I have contact with him; still writes,
sharp as a tack, good, discerning eye.
Maybe a little snarky, sometimes, but
that's the appeal. If there's anything I
can't stand it's the normalcy of the
normal sea. The ladies have all
disappeared. One got pissed because
she got kissed. Another didn't like the
atmosphere that was projected. I didn't
do the kissing, by the way. People in
the store would hear us, and they'd
come over too. Take a seat, maybe get
involved. It was pretty cool. Once or
twice some overly important outsider
came by too. One academic guy I
knew, he'd come out of the Barron
Arts Center, after my time there,
and is now at Binghamton College,
or University, having relocated,
teaching poetry. He came over,
having heard from a little ways off,
where I guess he'd been listening,
and congratulated me publicly for
'good, muscular, American poetry.'
Funny stuff, that 'muscular' bit.
-
Clark, New Jersey was white.
That was all there was to it.
When I entered the employment
at the new store, (which had
previously been a Shop-Rite), the
unspoken word was that it was a
white enclave, and to leave it at
that : know about it, but do nothing
towards it, in either direction. There
were some snooty people, as
customers. You could tell. Then, of
course, because the store pretty much
enticed any idiot who knew the ABC's
from first grade to sit there and rip
through magazines, books, and,
later, the pathetic category of Manga
and Graphic Novels, there'd be the
all-day loungers who would begin
thinking they were your best friend.
Whoever came up with those concepts
needs some serious punishment,
even more than the Japs already
got for developing 'Manga'. The
entire idea behind graphic novels is
to be snide. Jewish snide. I did
mention that this was a white
town, right. It hated blacks, but
welcomed the graphic novel
types; usually snide, haughty,
overly-critical, self-righteous,
Alison Bechdel 'Fun Home'
sort of stuff. And without any
form of the self-abnegation that
comes from wandering in the desert.
I couldn't figure out the range of
the audience. One time, a woman
started coming in, pestering me to
read a novel called 'Vox' with her,
separately, but just so we could
discuss it. It turned out to be about
phone sex, computer sex, whatever.
I think she just wanted me to take
her down. She kept bugging me. And
maybe there are a hundred other guys
who'd have taken her up on it and
jumped her carcass like a frog on a lily
pad, but not me. No interest, ma'am.
I was pretty disengaged with it;
and then she began bringing around
her 16-year old daughter as well,
to join in on the discussions and the
read. A little too uncomfortable for
me; I blamed store policy and said I
had to bail. By contrast, by now they
probably assign 'Fifty Shades of Gray'
to ninth graders to read and discuss,
with personalized vibrators.
-
I stayed with Barnes & Noble for
about 8+ years, before switching to
Princeton. It was good, I saw and
learned a lot, but it never quite got it
right. The concept-store had withered,
and by the time I left they were selling
trinkets, teddy bears, and games, for the
profit value, as much as books. They'd
lost the entire idea of what was up, and
the people who were coming in as
hires were just useless kids, just as
able to sell root beer, pretzels, or
fishing rods in a mall sports shop than
books (and learning). It wasn't just
the kids either. The new Management
hires were becoming pathetic. I really just
couldn't stand it any more. Too bad,
because for a short period of time
they may have had something.
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