Things to Do in Denver
On Sunday, Jonah and I made a pilgrimage to Denver to go to the Tattered Cover Bookstore.
First, though, we stopped by my Mom's house and surveyed the damage across the street. Some kids drove a car full-speed through the neighbor's fence and into the porch. I was actually surprised at how little damage there was. A car slamming full-speed can wreak a lot of havoc, if properly targeted (believe me, I should know).
The Tattered Cover is one of the most famous independent bookstores in the United States. I remember being regaled with tales of its four-story indie bookseller goodness. It successfully argued before the Colorado Supreme Court that law enforcement can't force booksellers to hand over their records without first considering the harm this would do to society. Jonah said we'd been there once in elementary school to give a poetry reading, but I had no recollection of that. But when I walked through the children's section, I suddenly remembered being there. The twisting maze of wooden shelves, the nauseating green decor, the worn carpet — at once it all seemed familiar.
Unfortunately, the Tattered Cover isn't the bookstore mecca I had imagined. It's certainly the biggest independent bookstore I've ever been in — but I was disappointed. It has a pretty big selection, but it was so sparsely spread out that I couldn't gauge how big it really was. Barnes and Noble, for example, is always packed to the gills with books, but the Tattered Cover had so many holes in its shelves it seemed a little pathetic. They have a really big cooking section, though.
Frankly, it seemed like a metaphor for the state of independent bookstores in general. The bathrooms were a mess, the selection was spotty, there was a display of about 300 copies of Sandra Cisneros' Caramelo. Most of the nonfiction was shelved by title rather than by author. This really sucks for trying to find a book with a title like The Sallow Clouds of Yesterday: One Man's Fateful Journey Through Pre-Industrial China. Or, in my case, Before the Storm: Barry Goldwater and the Unmaking of the American Consensus. I memorized the author, instead of the title, and never managed to find the goddamn book.
Then we went to the Apple Store, which is always fun, but it was a bit of a disappointment, too. Jonah asked a salesperson whether he could get an Aiport Extreme Card for his laptop and the guy said maybe, they don't work with all laptops. He didn't ask what kind of laptop he had, how big the screen was, how fast the computer was. He just said: "Make sure it works with your computer." Oops. Then a saleswoman started to give a presentation about GarageBand in the little movie theater. Only no one was sitting down, or even listening. She demoed the program for fifteen minutes, at least, over the PA and no one paid her any attention. When she got to a spot where she needed audience participation, she asked another employee to play the part. Oops. Then Jonah asked what he could do on one of the demo units to see how much faster it was than his laptop. The salesperson suggested opening all the programs in the Applications folder to see how fast it was. We did this on one of the dual 2.5GHz G5s. We watched as a bunch of Apps started opening: various helper apps, Final Cut Pro, Motion, etc. Of course the damn thing started to thrash almost immediately. The dock icons froze mid-bounce. After a while (five minutes or so) it started to calm down. Not the best performance demo. Oops.
Then we went to have dinner at a Middle Eastern restaurant Jonah had seen out by DU. It turns out, it was Jerusalem — a restaurant I'd been to with Seth and his family. I had Sheesh Kifta (not so good — I don't really like mediterranean-style meat, anyway) and stuffed grape leaves (always very good).
And then it was back to Boulder.