Last week's trip (part one)
Aug. 8th, 2010 10:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
odanuI hate flying. I hate it with a purple passion. I usually spend the entire flight trying to look calm while I'm quietly holding the plane up with my willpower. Just shy of my hatred for flying is my extreme dislike of driving on the highway with my husband when he's in a hurry. So. Up at four a.m., on the road by 4:30. Stopped for a coffee, which I downed in the car while trying not to think of how fast we were going. Got to the airport at 4:50 (it's usually a 30-40 minute drive, but no traffic plus bat-out-of-hell-ed-ness means it went quicker), and the lines for boarding passes were already enormous... because they didn't open until 5:00 am. At five, got my boarding pass, and knit a few lines of simple k1 p1 ribbing in my pretty blue cotton socks. I really hate the yarn. It has no give.
The plane is on time. I am pleasantly surprised at the service and comfort. I flew Southwest, which I had heard good things about in the past, but now have to agree with. The take-off is as smooth as butter. I took out my knitting again, and was actually able to forget I was in the air for long periods of time in the first leg. The landing at Love Field in Dallas was smooth, too (thank you, pilot whose name I don't know), so my only discomfort for that leg was a bit of ear popping offset by my favorite Trident sugarless gum, which they finally brought back (Cinnamon, I love ya!).
An hour at Love Field. Tried to knit, but couldn't. Browsed the bookstore, but nothing jumped off the shelf at me (perhaps because of my anticipation of visiting the BEST BOOKSTORE IN THE WORLD later on). Ended up pulling out Street Crazy: America's Mental Health Tragedy by Dr. Stephen B Seager from my bag and reading it. It was a very good book. I would say excellent, but there are some copy editing errors that got in the way of my enjoyment, and it would have been nice to back up the personal memoir with more facts and figures, as well as the experiences of more varieties of mental health professionals than just doctors. Nonetheless, I recommend it for anyone who is wandering around saying "why don't we just fix this mess". It's not as easy as all that.
My sister met me at the airport with her fiancé. She was her old self, simultaneously high energy and matter of fact, older than I remembered, but then, so was I. We drove back from El Paso to Las Cruces and talked shop (she's an HIV educator these days, so there's a lot of overlap in our work experiences). We picked up my oldest son from his grandmother's and went out to lunch at La Posta in Mesilla, New Mexico. As always, the food was wonderful and so was the service. Large portions, authentic Mexican food, a fabulous atmosphere (the macaws in their floor to ceiling cage were entertaining as always), and decent prices. A great time was had by all.
After lunch, my sister dropped us back off at the grandparents, goodbyes were said all around (much too brief.. we'll have to make this a little less hurried next time), Nacho and I chatted briefly with his grandfather, then we got in his spiffy new car (I'm jealous... it's much nicer than mine) and headed down to Coas: My Bookstore at the Downtown Mall.
There are some experiences that cannot be adequately expressed in the written word. The sounds and smells and visual overload of a good used book store are in that select group. Coas is quite simply the best used bookstore I have ever been in. I discovered it in 1984 or '85, just starting college, working at minimum wage and in a dilemma... my favorite books were science fiction, but the library was woefully understocked in science fiction and I could not afford four or five dollars every time I wanted to read a book (back then, with no kids and only a part time job, at the rate of a half dozen or more a week). When I first found it, Coas was in a storefront on Solano, books stacked to the ceiling in rough, sturdy bookcases with narrow walkways around them. The owner, Pat Beckett, was usually the man behind the counter, and if not him, then John, a quiet, reserved man who seemed to struggle with human interaction but knew everything there was to know about books. I remember asking John for a job one time (I still don't remember why I didn't ask Pat) and John said that I should come back when I'd read 20,000 books. Sometime in the late 1980's, Pat bought real estate in the old Downtown Mall and his bookstore began to expand exponentially.
Sometime in the 1980s, I introduced my friend James Cunningham to Coas, as he was in the same dilemma I was in. Pat's son Mike was behind the counter as often as Pat was by the early 1990s, and by the time I moved to Kansas City in 1995, Mike was usually the guy behind the counter. When I returned for my mother's funeral in 1999, James had joined Mike behind the counter, and John was at a satellite shop.
Lest you think that Coas is only about science fiction, I'll disabuse you of that notion. The bookstore started as an archaeology bookstore, but Pat figured out early on that if he wanted to make money, he needed to expand into used books. By the time it had expanded to the Downtown Mall, it had new books, used books, text books, antique books, you name it. There were books from every category under the sun. And the trade system meant that if, like me, you were a bookaholic, you could find just about anything you wanted to read, if you were patient enough, for a fraction (15% back then, now 25%, after trade credit) of the cover price. John is a well-respected antiquarian, and knows old books like no one else. If you want to find a book, and want the person helping you look to know what they're looking for, Coas is the place to go... and the best news of all is that they have an on-line presence, so you don't have to live in Las Cruces to take advantage of their wonderful customer service, huge inventory, and font of knowledge.
I picked up a brand new book for work, an absolutely fabulous resource book for sewing that is over 40 years old and has turned out to be a great buy, a heritage cookbook for Elwood, and about five science fiction paperbooks. I still had trade credit. I spent less than twelve dollars. It was awesome.
Next, Nacho and I went back to Old Mesilla for some thoroughly tourista shopping, picking up gifts for everyone else on our lists. I picked up a gorgeous bag and scarf for myself at one boutique, and a top at another, then a bag for a relative (who reads this and thus remains unnamed, since it's a Yule gift), a pair of moccasins for Trouble, and I helped Nacho pick out a pendant, chain, and box for his girlfriend.
Dinner with Nacho's grandparents at a chain restaurant I don't need to send business to, and wonderful conversation with same. Every time I spend time with them, and watch them interact with their grandson, I keep remembering that I got the best part of my ex husband in his son, and how truly fortunate we are that Nacho's grandparents love and accept him and me and continue to be a part of our lives long after their son has walked away.
After dinner and conversation I slept in a comfortable bed, ready to wake up bright and early and hit the road.
The plane is on time. I am pleasantly surprised at the service and comfort. I flew Southwest, which I had heard good things about in the past, but now have to agree with. The take-off is as smooth as butter. I took out my knitting again, and was actually able to forget I was in the air for long periods of time in the first leg. The landing at Love Field in Dallas was smooth, too (thank you, pilot whose name I don't know), so my only discomfort for that leg was a bit of ear popping offset by my favorite Trident sugarless gum, which they finally brought back (Cinnamon, I love ya!).
An hour at Love Field. Tried to knit, but couldn't. Browsed the bookstore, but nothing jumped off the shelf at me (perhaps because of my anticipation of visiting the BEST BOOKSTORE IN THE WORLD later on). Ended up pulling out Street Crazy: America's Mental Health Tragedy by Dr. Stephen B Seager from my bag and reading it. It was a very good book. I would say excellent, but there are some copy editing errors that got in the way of my enjoyment, and it would have been nice to back up the personal memoir with more facts and figures, as well as the experiences of more varieties of mental health professionals than just doctors. Nonetheless, I recommend it for anyone who is wandering around saying "why don't we just fix this mess". It's not as easy as all that.
My sister met me at the airport with her fiancé. She was her old self, simultaneously high energy and matter of fact, older than I remembered, but then, so was I. We drove back from El Paso to Las Cruces and talked shop (she's an HIV educator these days, so there's a lot of overlap in our work experiences). We picked up my oldest son from his grandmother's and went out to lunch at La Posta in Mesilla, New Mexico. As always, the food was wonderful and so was the service. Large portions, authentic Mexican food, a fabulous atmosphere (the macaws in their floor to ceiling cage were entertaining as always), and decent prices. A great time was had by all.
After lunch, my sister dropped us back off at the grandparents, goodbyes were said all around (much too brief.. we'll have to make this a little less hurried next time), Nacho and I chatted briefly with his grandfather, then we got in his spiffy new car (I'm jealous... it's much nicer than mine) and headed down to Coas: My Bookstore at the Downtown Mall.
There are some experiences that cannot be adequately expressed in the written word. The sounds and smells and visual overload of a good used book store are in that select group. Coas is quite simply the best used bookstore I have ever been in. I discovered it in 1984 or '85, just starting college, working at minimum wage and in a dilemma... my favorite books were science fiction, but the library was woefully understocked in science fiction and I could not afford four or five dollars every time I wanted to read a book (back then, with no kids and only a part time job, at the rate of a half dozen or more a week). When I first found it, Coas was in a storefront on Solano, books stacked to the ceiling in rough, sturdy bookcases with narrow walkways around them. The owner, Pat Beckett, was usually the man behind the counter, and if not him, then John, a quiet, reserved man who seemed to struggle with human interaction but knew everything there was to know about books. I remember asking John for a job one time (I still don't remember why I didn't ask Pat) and John said that I should come back when I'd read 20,000 books. Sometime in the late 1980's, Pat bought real estate in the old Downtown Mall and his bookstore began to expand exponentially.
Sometime in the 1980s, I introduced my friend James Cunningham to Coas, as he was in the same dilemma I was in. Pat's son Mike was behind the counter as often as Pat was by the early 1990s, and by the time I moved to Kansas City in 1995, Mike was usually the guy behind the counter. When I returned for my mother's funeral in 1999, James had joined Mike behind the counter, and John was at a satellite shop.
Lest you think that Coas is only about science fiction, I'll disabuse you of that notion. The bookstore started as an archaeology bookstore, but Pat figured out early on that if he wanted to make money, he needed to expand into used books. By the time it had expanded to the Downtown Mall, it had new books, used books, text books, antique books, you name it. There were books from every category under the sun. And the trade system meant that if, like me, you were a bookaholic, you could find just about anything you wanted to read, if you were patient enough, for a fraction (15% back then, now 25%, after trade credit) of the cover price. John is a well-respected antiquarian, and knows old books like no one else. If you want to find a book, and want the person helping you look to know what they're looking for, Coas is the place to go... and the best news of all is that they have an on-line presence, so you don't have to live in Las Cruces to take advantage of their wonderful customer service, huge inventory, and font of knowledge.
I picked up a brand new book for work, an absolutely fabulous resource book for sewing that is over 40 years old and has turned out to be a great buy, a heritage cookbook for Elwood, and about five science fiction paperbooks. I still had trade credit. I spent less than twelve dollars. It was awesome.
Next, Nacho and I went back to Old Mesilla for some thoroughly tourista shopping, picking up gifts for everyone else on our lists. I picked up a gorgeous bag and scarf for myself at one boutique, and a top at another, then a bag for a relative (who reads this and thus remains unnamed, since it's a Yule gift), a pair of moccasins for Trouble, and I helped Nacho pick out a pendant, chain, and box for his girlfriend.
Dinner with Nacho's grandparents at a chain restaurant I don't need to send business to, and wonderful conversation with same. Every time I spend time with them, and watch them interact with their grandson, I keep remembering that I got the best part of my ex husband in his son, and how truly fortunate we are that Nacho's grandparents love and accept him and me and continue to be a part of our lives long after their son has walked away.
After dinner and conversation I slept in a comfortable bed, ready to wake up bright and early and hit the road.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-08-08 03:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-08 04:08 pm (UTC)