Today’s Guest post is by Childe Jake. His first post can be found here, and his personal blog is at:http://thejakefoyer.blogspot.com/
Certain places have a distinct hold on me. When I visit them, I feel a force begin to work in me. It isn’t some rapturous pull beyond explanation, but it is visceral and profound. After arriving, my mind is drawn to grand ideas and I enjoy a rich sense of purpose. Recently, one of my favorite such havens decided to shut its doors forever.
The announcement that Borders was going out of business did not surprise me. As a devoted customer, I’ve watched the steady decline. Yet, for many of us loyal patrons the official announcement brought on grieving. I am not interested in debating why Borders is closing. Everyone involved pretty much agrees on the reasons. Instead, I want to recount my attempt at a fond farewell and the disquieting realization it produced.
After hearing the news, I resolved to take one last visit to my local Borders, a spot I’ve heretofore visited regularly. Occasionally I didn’t even buy books. In addition to club gatherings, I sometimes just went for the in-store café and the…well, the comfort.
When I got out of my car, irony slapped me in the face. Only in its death throes did Borders discover the secret to enticing the masses. What’s the trick? Offer the same discounts you’ve been giving for years via loyalty programs, but preface them by saying you are going out of business. As the image above demonstrates, say you are dying and the vultures come to feast.
Another burst of disappointment hit me once inside. The store’s café was already shut down. So much for one last performance of my cherished ritual: leisurely browsing; giddily buying; then happily sipping a white chocolate mocha while leafing through my purchase. Somberness was quickly supplanted by acute aggravation.
In search of familiarity and comfort, I took a well-worn route through sci-fi to visit the Arthur C. Clarke selections, even though I already own them. Then I stopped by the Climbing shelf. I don’t climb, but that didn’t stop me from developing a Mt. Everest fetish two winters ago—one of many times Borders nursed me through a craving. Unfortunately, scanning favorite shelves offered no satisfaction.
Soon I found myself in the Science section hoping to score a Carl Sagan book on the cheap. There was just one problem. My view of the shelf was eclipsed by another shopper. This had already happened several times during my visit, as I negotiated the clearance sale bustle. Normally, I feign scanning a neighboring shelf until the one I want opens up. This time I just stood awkward and impatient a few feet away, waiting for the guy to move on.
Finally, after what was probably only a minute, the other shopper left the section. I immediately saw two Sagan titles I’d been wanting. Yet my sour mood reigned. Even on clearance the books were a mere 20% off. Borders used to give me 40% off with e-mail coupons. At that moment, I knew exactly why I wasn’t enjoying my last visit. In fact, there were two reasons. This first was you.
That’s right. All of you Amazon-ophiles out there ruined my goodbye. How? By finally showing up. For years, you’ve done me the courtesy of staying away, ensuring open aisles and tranquil reading areas. In fact, Borders had become a better spot for meditation than the library.
Acrid describes the taste of this realization. The main symptom of Borders’ sickness was the chief ingredient in my affection for the store. That leads to the second reason I disliked my final visit: me. Had I really just balked at purchasing works by a favorite author because they were only 20% off? I had. What does that say of me?
At some point in my troubled reflections, two old friends happened by. We visited for awhile without feeling rushed—a typical experience when meeting up in Borders. We smiled warmly and exchanged empathetic eye contact. We held up our selections to handle and compare. Our nuanced expressions, the inflections in our voices, the hug goodbye, all added up to treasured fellowship—the kind that occurs in person.
In the days since, I’ve stewed over my contribution to Borders’ decline. I’m as guilty as any online shopper, having grown accustomed to always getting steals of deals. Discounts of 30% or more are simply unsustainable. In the case of publishing, they make it ever more difficult for even excellent authors to make a living. How does the saying go? I never said it would be marked down; I only said it would be worth it.
There will be an important test for me soon. There are still other bookstores with enjoyable shopping environments. Before long, I’ll get the urge to visit one in search of creature comfort. When the urge hits, will I opt for the biggest discount I can find (likely on the Internet)? Or will I—as I hope I will—make the investment in the thing I claim to love? I hope I pass that test.
How about you? What merchants have you developed attachments to, and why? Does loyalty ever supersede searching for better deals?
Wheat & Tares 
Nice parable for investing in people at Church and in a religious community vs. just browsing the internet for bloggernacle posts you like.
Very well done.
Thank you for the response, Stephen. The benefits of face-to-face fellowship are certainly one of the big lessons I’ve taken away from seeing Borders closing. I also appreciate your word choice. ‘Investing’ suggests to me a need for personal effort via giving. Ideally, communal relationships are not merely about consumption for personal satisfaction.
This post reminds me a LOT of HP’s getting out of webOS hardware (which has led to a firesale on TouchPads). For once, webOS is getting the consumer base that it has always wanted, but it’s really bitter for a lot of old-time webOS and Palm fans.
For one, there are a lot of people who are buying in bulk just to resell on ebay or craiglist. There are others still who buy but have no care about webOS and what drew the rest of us to the platform. Some people just want to wait until the earliest time when Android is hacked onto it so they can get rid of webOS.
this blog has a pretty tenuous connection to mormonism at the moment. i wish they didnt kick out the “if i was in charge” guy
if i wanted lackluster opinion pieces on abortion, rick perry, borders books, etc. i would go to the rest of the internet.
So true as more than a parable. When I was mobile I spent many an hour in Borders cafe working and drinking things you LDS can’t have. I’d buy periodicals, sci fi, and when I was ready to take it home for my own collection, the latest physics or math book on whatever topic I was researching.
Once Amazon became my only option, I still missed the cafe.
I too miss Borders. It was a guilty pleasure to leisurely wander the isles, browse books, and read in comfy chairs. My wife and I sometimes would even take date nights to borders…forgoing a movie or dinner in favor of books that entice the imagination. These were always followed by wonderful conversations about the treasures we had found….
#3 Andrew: Though I’m not up on webOS, I think I grasp the parallel you are talking about. Beyond technical product details, I’d be curious to know what personally drew you to the platform. Also, do you feel anything will be lost culturally if/when the next major product overtakes the one you currently rely on?
FireTag & Troth: Thank you for sharing your personal reflections. For me at least, it continues to be interesting and valuable to see how other people develop attachments to merchants. I think there are a variety of emotional, even spiritual, insights we might glean from looking beyond the mere products we purchase to the effect they have on our sense of self.
@Hmm – This is not a blog for just Mormonism. The connection to Mormonism is that the writers of this blog have a connection to Mormonism. One of my favorite things about this blog is it’s not limited to Mormons. Glad you left a comment anyway! 🙂
re 8:
Childe Jake,
I think that webOS has a different kind of vision. It’s aesthetically foward-looking (not to insult other platforms, but one thing that annoys me about Android is that it just doesn’t seem to be designed very consistently with itself.)
But that wouldn’t be the primary draw. I think the primary draw in is, in fact, the community. Maybe it’s something I keep falling for (and I do make a lot of connections to Mormons and Ex-Mormon communities), but being in small communities trying to face the world (defending against misinformation from the media) seems to be something I do more and more.
So, I think that other OSes are definitely more capable (webOS has languished behind in several features), but what is lost is the combination of a community that for the most part strives together because it is so small, a particular aesthetic and consistency, and a kind of relationship between the maintainers of the software and the community (e.g., Apple directly opposes “jailbreakers,” but Palm has ALWAYS supported homebrewers. HP to a lesser extent.)
Maybe that doesn’t make any sense.
Andrew: I had to read your reply a couple times to process some of the jargon, but it makes plenty of sense. It sounds to me like the sense of community, especially the presence of cooperation, has played an important role for you. Thank you for elaborating.
Sherpa:
I’d push back on Hmm even more than that.
I would not have responded that the connection to Mormonism was merely
that the permas are connected to Mormonism. Mormonism was not and is not
solely concerned with the afterlife. It was passionately concerned about the issues — like economics and politics and family and cultural relationships — involved in building Zion on earth, because the mission Christ gave to the Restoration had to do with both earthly and heavenly tasks. If you pull out your Book of Mormon and start picking out verses at random, you’ll find a great many of them have to do with such issues. Mormon even bothers to spend pages talking about military strategic planning.
So, when we are talking about such issues in a modern, faith-based context here, I think we are very much more than tangentially connected to Mormonism.
Re Andrew-
I couldn’t agree more. My android phone drives me nuts for this reason. The user experience just isn’t there.
Re Childe Jake-
Loved the post, as usual. I’m afraid I fall almost entirely victim to the Amazon-phile situation you describe. I almost unilaterally seek the best economic deal at the expense of community etc. I think it’s because I’m so individualistic. I definitely need to work harder at keeping that in check and balanced by a strong sense of community and supporting what I love.
I used to think that it was primarily because as a student I was so poor. I couldn’t afford to pay “mom and pop shop” prices. I had to reevaluate that, however, after I got a real job making good money and still obsessed over getting the best deal instead of supporting my local community etc.
A couple of words keep popping in my mind about consumerism. The first is balance. Just as a balanced diet tends to be healthy, achieving balance in where we spend money has benefits too. I’m certainly not anti-Amazon. In fact, it is my favorite place to go hunting for older editions and out of print material, as well as DVDs that stores tend not to stock. (They stock less and less). However, like many folks I’m not a fan of monopoly. Spreading my spending around is part of guarding against that outcome.
Another word that comes to mind is voting. In a sense, buying is voting. It’s a vote of confidence. Without obsessing (not always easy to avoid) I think in terms of trying to buy from a variety of places, including local, regional and international.