The Bookseller

When they were younger, my parents had a variety of kooky money making schemes. There was the construction company that my dad ran; good for the family larder, not so great for quality dad time as dad was never home. Also under this heading: my mom as full time career gal. Good for Rosie the Riveter morale, but bad for parental patience when the father figure is absent (see above). Then there was the dad as college student poverty days, dad as cattleman/child labor boss, dad as a high school art teacher who could finally bond with children even if they were not his own. Ah, childhood. My favorite, as well as the briefest of these episodes, was the bookstore. My parents are bookphiles, a good and great thing for people to be. I am one myself.
It is difficult for second hand booksellers to make a profit, a lesson as a family we learned first hand. Books are lovable but not bankable. Knowing this as I do, I cherish the independent bookseller. I'll choose a preowned book before a new one, simply because I know of the struggle people endure just to open the doors to business. I do not, however, like this feeling of loyalty to be taken advantage of. Point in case, Gardners. One million books! An acre of store space! Eccentric employees! This is literally an emporium of used books. Everything under the sun can be found here if one is diligent in their search, and I am nothing if not ruthless in my quest for an exceptional personal library.
Today my library may shed a tear because today I was ripped off by Gardners. I was overcharged for the last time today ($8.95 for a chewed up copy of the Tao te Ching. Shameless!). I have carried the cross of affection too long for this store, arguably the best and certainly the largest of its kind in Tulsa. I am overcharged every time I go in there. I don't mind a little padding because (see above) I love books, but come on! Enough already. Damn it. This means I'll have to start buying new books, which means less books. What does the Tao say to comfort me in my distress?
Men are born soft and supple; dead, they are stiff and hard. Plants are born tender and pliant; dead, they are brittle and dry. Thus whomever is still and inflexible is a disciple of death. Whoever is soft and yielding is a disciple of life. The hard and still will be broken. The soft and supple will prevail.