I’m gets-mysterious-aches-and-pains-has-no-idea—where-they-came-from-yet-it’s-all-we-talk-about-when-we-of-the-similar-age-get-together years old.

A Visit To The Bookshop

Went to a fave local small indie bookshop today. I’ve patronized quite a few times before but am hardly a regular. Requested a book I knew they’d have to special order. Seller confirmed my number and asked if I wanted a text once in. He remembered my name, number and preference.

We briefly discussed what we were reading. Recommendations were traded. Mutual loves discussed. I made an offhand comment about the number of books about trees. Told him about my friend Matthew and his love and deep knowledge of trees. Came away longing for a new book the seller highly recommended. I should have just bought it on the spot. Likely will when the special order arrives.

The algorithms might know my name and number. Might make some recommendations (but not trade them). Might even be able to discern I’d like a book about trees. Even at greater convenience and cheaper out of pocket cost.

But it will likely never be able to make me feel valued, listened to, and known in the way I am in the bookshop. There is no price one can put on that and at only a few dollars more and a little bit of time it’s a bargain.

A Special Note of Thanks

I’m thankful for each and every one of you who take time out of your day to pay attention to the things I post here on my corner of the internet.

But I wanted to give a special thank you at this time to Kurt Harden, Micheal Wade, and Nicholas Bate who’ve been incredibly supportive as of late. It has not gone unnoticed and I’m deeply humbled every time you mention and/or link here.

While they are very close in meaning, not everything that is complex is complicated and not everything that is complicated is complex.

Complicated imbues a sense of difficulty and struggle. Something we labor.

Complex imbues a sense of wonder and discovery. Something we solve.