The Strand: Night of Book Worm!

Yep. I'm a nerd. Despite my outward appearance, inside is a person who likes to spend hours alone in a bookstore. Now, granted we are early in my blogs here. You can get your fix of sex, drugs and rock n' roll once our up coming tour kicks off. But quite frankly, a loud juke box, $1 shots with PBR , full of people who are ‘close talkers/bad breath’ when drunk (you know the type, your a foot away, yet they insist on invading your personal space and yelling in your face. With Jack andPBR breath.) isn’t always my idea of a good time. Don't get me wrong, there is a place for that and I've and some of the best times in my life at those places (Wild at Heart in Berlin anyone?). But when I'm home and I'm looking for inspiration, I won't find it in one of these establishments.
It's a Saturday night in NYC and it's the first I've had to myself in a long time. I've been working every weekend with the band, 'His Mighty Robot' on producing their new album and it's meant sacrificing my weekends. Production work has been awesome. I love to be in a rehearsal room with a band while we flesh out all kinds of ideas. But, I miss my Saturdays.
So, I met up with some old friends to catch up, and then I walked past a place I have walked past a million times. It's called 'The Strand' and it's a bit of a NYC landmark. '18 Miles of Books' it boasts! Having the night off and looking for adventure, I head in.
All I can say is 'WOW'! The Strand carries new books at a discount, and dirt cheep used books too! But, I have to come clean here. Before you get the idea that I'm a bookworm, it's more that I find comfort in rooms full of books then reading them ‘per-say’ (South Park?). Makes me feel...insulated and comfortable.
Anyway, a few things jumped out at me as I strolled the massive isles of books. The smell of old binding and paper wafting in the air. The cross section of humans walking around. Ideal people watching here at this spot!
I picked up a Sylvia Plath book that had an awesome quote, "What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination...If I sit still and don't do anything, the world goes on beating like a slack drum, without meaning. We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine."
I try to steer clear of the music section, as it's a bit redundant to me but love the art section more. We always want what we are not, right?
More and more what I find is that darkness seeks me out. For example, I head towards a Basquiat book and pick up one on the Mutter Museum (yea..Google that!). I look for a German Language book and find myself holding, 'Seduced by Hitler' or 'Psychotherapy in the 3rd Reich'.
Even when someone knocks over a pile of books and I help pick them up, what ends up in my hands? The 'Tales of Mystery and Imagination: The Stories of Edgar Allen Poe' with awesome illustrations by Harry Clark.
Yep. No matter what I do, my dark side is always seeking me out.
By far the most impressively packaged book had to be 'Mont St. Michael' by Michael Kenna. It had this awesome slip case (http://www.amazon.com/Mont-St-Michel-Michael-Kenna/dp/1590052056).
But in the end I left empty handed. But not empty hearted or empty headed. Feeling less alone after the comfort of the books, ideas and dreams.