So yesterday Kim & I drove up the coast of Florida to the lovely city of Vero Beach, which for you non-Floridians is between West Palm Beach & Daytona Beach.
The kids had a band competition taking place there, along with about 12 other bands from across the state, and I decided to be a good husband and go---giving up a valuable Saturday afternoon of college football (please, hold your applause until the end of my journal's entry) because I didn't want Kim to have to make a drive of that distance by herself. Wow, is she ever lucky to have me.
I had been sort of back and forth on whether I should go or not, and then Saturday morning I decided to make the trip, and Kim sort of sweetened the pot by offering to check the computer and locate any used book stores in the Vero area (its one of my weak spots--what can I say?).
So we go to the morning performances, and the kids school did--hmm---okay. They were really hindered by the fact that they were easily the smallest school and band that was there though. After we went and got lunch, I dropped Kim off at the stadium and went in search of the stores. The 2nd one I went into was primarily a paperback bookstore and as I browsed through, I could tell that I wasn't going to find much there.
First Bowdren Rule of a used bookstore:
1) If it doesn't smell musty, you're wasting your time.
This place smelled too new. So I'm walking around, and I noticed that all the different sections had a sign above them. "Non-fiction", "Romance", etc. As I walked towards the section that featured writers like Stephen King, Peter Straub & Dean Koontz, I was amused to see the following sign right above the section:
"Weirdos".
Uh....yeah. Nope, not in south Florida anymore.......
Oh, and the kids didn't win the competition. Don't get me started.
Later,
Jeff
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