Jim Putnam - Thinking Through My Fingers

Gatekeepers

Yesterday I read a series of posts by Tim Lee on Megan McArdles's blog.  These posts, in chronological order are: Color Blind Adoption, Self-Important Adoption Officials, and Everyone Needs a Hippocratic Oath.  

Realizing that most of you are not going to actually follow the links and read the articles, here is a one sentence capsule.  Tim Lee thinks that many of the rules for gatekeepers throughout our society are more to make the gatekeeper feel important than to serve a real need. 

Basically, I agree.  Or more specifically, in the examples he uses in his posts I agree.  And since I read his columns I have been considering whether the premise holds true across all gatekeepers, or are these anomalies.  I dislike saying it, but I think that rule holds true in almost all instances.  I think that the gatekeeper that actually  actually serves a legitimate purpose is the exception.  Notice, I included the caveat "I think".  I've not done the research to determine whether there are numbers to support my "thinking".  I may, but more likely I'll  allow it to stand since there's no harm .  Nothing is likely to change the way gatekeepers work, regardless of what I say or think.

And since I've started, I may as well  blather on about why.  Gatekeepers are necessary, but the rules they follow, or make up as they see fit, are seldom as much so.  Years ago, Dr. George Crane wrote  "Worry Clinic",  a series of newspaper columns in which one of his most often used advice was that people always want to feel important.  Gatekeepers are in a position that allows them to manufacture their own importance, and for many the temptation if inflate it is too strong to resist.  I doubt that many of those of us who complain, including me, would do much different if we were the gatekeeper.

As an example, way back when I was an Air Policeman at Charleston AFB, (1962) there were times when I exercised my gatekeeper role to its fullest.  Automobiles leaving the base at night would be searched simply because I could, and because I needed something to stay awake.  So I know I was an officious gatekeeper, using my power because I wanted to.  I wonder how many civilian police abuse their power?

But reading Lee's articles, it seems that some real rules were put in place simply to allow the gatekeeper to feel important.  In the case of the pet adoption rules, referenced in Self-Important Adoption Officials, they could be to the detriment of those they were meant to protect, the prospective adoptive pets. 

As with most of living in a socially stratified society, a balance is necessary to keep wheels turning.  Gatekeepers are necessary, though many of their functions could easily be performed automatically.  The question then, it seems to me, would be exactly what functions are necessary, and would the administrators, gatekeepers themselves of a sort, have the machines also perform unnecessary functions.  I bet they would.

I don't know the answer.  I get as frustrated by what I consider overly puffed up officials as anyone, but on the whole I think the gatekeepers respond to me in the way I treat them.  Courtesy never hurts.  But when I think of the pets who die because of rules that serve only to allow the gatekeeper to feel important, I wonder whether there are similar endings caused by other gatekeepers.

I said I was going to blather.  I've done that, and now it's time to close.  

American Exceptionalism

http://www.technorati.com/pingEarly this morning I read this on Kevin Drum's Political Animal.  Several bloggers are filling in while Kevin is on vacation.  This article was written by Cheryl Rofer.  It's an important, excellent article, and I recommend it.  She takes a paragraph from a commenter on another blog and writes about it, beginning with an excerpt from the comment.

The doctrine of "American Exceptionalism" is not especially radical in the US. The assertion that the US is uniquely selfless and fair-minded is a mainstream idea in American politics.

Ms Rofer refers to a column by David Brooks, accurately refuting his points.  Later, I also read Joe Klein's article covering the same Brooks column.  I am not particularly interested in Brooks' article; I just thought it very interesting that at least two separate authors decided to take his column apart on the same day.

It is "American Exceptionalism" that I've been thinking about since reading Ms Rofer's column, especially "The assertion that the US is uniquely selfless and fair-minded."  I've touched upon a version of the concept several times in the past, but this is the first time I've seen this name.

The US has long acted as if it is morally and ethically superior and thus can tell others how to govern  or defend themselves.  We are even pushing our religion on Muslim Iraqis.  As Ms Rofer says:

The United States is a big, wealthy, highly-defended country with friendly and weak neighbors. We are insulated by media that give us health and beauty tips in preference to the gritty realities that other countries face.

And most of us, most of the time, try to be selfless and fair-minded in evaluating what news we get and selecting our elected representatives. The problem is that blind self-righteousness is only a little way off.

I disagree with "most of us ... try".  US Americans can no more objectively say that we try than a pig can fly.  We have lost all objectivity, allowing ourselves to become convinced that we deserve everything we have, and those who do not probably didn't try hard enough. 

Actually, most of us float through our days with little thought.  Facts don't faze us.  Our defense budget is larger than the rest of the world combined?  Good, we need strong borders, and it creates jobs.  We spend more on pet food every year than the GNP of many nations.  Our gasoline approaches $4.00.  Horrors!  Do we even care how much a driver in Italy pays?  No, that's their problem.

It seems we have abrogated every moral position.  Torture is accepted.  Government actively ignores the call of the people to stop the war.  Pollution of every kind - water, air, ground, and food - is excused. The list could go on, but that is enough.  The point is that we seem to think that we can do these things because as a people we "think" we are, fair, moral, honest, and generous.  In truth, we are weak in each of these.

As Ms Roper says - blind self-righteousness is only a little way off. 

Anticipation

Years ago, Carly Simon had a song out with that title.  At the time, it seemed to capture the feeling for me that anticipation is sometimes as good as whatever is being anticipated.  I think the planning for a trip is almost an much fun as the trip itself.  That's what I've been doing since we returned from taking Anastasia home Tuesday.  Well, actually there was also about four hours of sewing on the quilt, but in a way that's anticipation too.

When Marrianna and I travel, we are almost never on an Interstate highway.  I like to drive the smaller, less traveled roads, stopping whenever and wherever we want to.  Since Marrianna doesn't drive, that helps make my driving easier.  I have almost three quarters of our upcoming trip planned.  Tomorrow, while we are out I want to stop by the AAA store and pick up a couple of maps we don't have, and then I'll complete the plan.

None of the plan is exactly solid.  There are two dates and locations I can fairly well pinpoint.  We will arrive at Chassell, MI July 3rd.  We will leave there the 7th, and arrive in the Minneapolis area sometime the afternoon of the 8th.  Everything beyond there is fuzzy.  We will probably be in Minneapolis two nights, maybe three, and then drive to Chicago to see two sets of friends.  Beyond that, everything is up for how we feel about being on the road.  If we are road weary, then we head home.  If not, we go to Paducah, KY to see the Museum of American Quilt Society, then home.  We will be on the road almost four weeks.

I saw a TV news show this evening with a piece about fuel costs.  The big trucks are driving slower to conserve fuel.  That, in my opinion, is a good thing.  I noticed on our trip to Asheville that many trucks were going a little slower.  Driving the smaller roads, we naturally ride slower than if we were on the Interstate.  Beside the chance to see more, that has the same benefit as the trucks for us, better gas mileage.  When we limit our day's driving to approximately 300 miles, our fuel costs remain, if not reasonable, at least doable.

I enjoy the planning very much.  Poring over state highway maps and plotting routes through the countryside is almost as much fun as being there.  And when we are on the road, the people we meet in the small towns forgotten by the major highways just adds to our enjoyment.  People are almost always nice.

Before our last big driving trip, we bought two magnets decals, each approximately 4" x 2" for our rear panel, a UNC symbol, and the other a Tarheel.  We put them on to perhaps garner some attention and start conversations.  It worked, though not as often as we had anticipated.  The UNC symbol disappeared somewhere along the way.  Once a disgruntled basketball fan of another institution sped by and gave us the one finger salute, but there were no bad incidents.  I've replaced the missing UNC, and both will be prominently displayed on the back of our car as we travel.  If you see it, come up and say hello.  If it's not us, other folk from North Carolina are friendly too.

I don't know what I'm going to do about blogging while we are on the road.  I would like to rent a laptop for a month, but haven't yet done the work to know whether that's feasible.  I don't have a laptop anymore, and using it to get our email while away from home was a real hassle anyway.  Time Warner seems to think that they have to make non-cable connections, or connections from locations other than the home cable modem, as difficult as possible.  It is easier to reach Typepad for a blog entry.  I anticipate - there's that word again - using a motel or friend's computer where available.  But blogging while we are on the road is likely to be scant.

Reading over the above, I was amused to see how imminent the trip seems here.  There's almost a month before we leave home.  I'm sure that by that time my anticipation level will be sky-high.  When does anticipation step over the fine line and become disappointment?  For that matter, does the real thing ever quite reach to level anticipated?  Silly question:  Sure it does.  Our western trip was better in every way that I had anticipated.  If there is ever another trip to match that one, I will be a very lucky person.

Listology - Book List

The wedding festivities are over.  Showers, rehearsals, wedding ceremony, receptions and brunches are all finished.  A semblance of normalcy has returned.  It was really a Festival, enjoyed by all, with the possible exception of those who planned it all.  And they should be proud.  Every detail was wonderful, and we all had a very good time.

Now it is time to return to "normal" blogging, whatever that is. Having no specific subject in mind, I'm going to refer to a list a friend introduced me to, "1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die."  I'm the kind of irascible guy who, upon seeing that such a list even exists, asks "Who says?"  I have to admit though that I scanned through the list, jotting down numbers of the books I can remember reading.  I've seen the movie version of others, but didn't include them in my count.  Of the 1001 on the list, I've read 66.  (See after the break for the numbers of those I've read.)  This must be a list of novels, though it doesn't specifically say so.  I can recommend several non-fiction books that, if the list is truly one of books that should be read before you die, should be on the list.

Returning to my irascibility, just who has the sort of ego to compile such a list?  I could compile a list of books I think are important, fiction and non, but I wouldn't have the arrogance to title my list "must" or, especially, "before you die."  I even have on my shelves a book which is a list of books,  "Good Books:  A Book Lover's Companion", by Steven Gilbar [1982, Ticknor and Fields, New York].  A companion is so much better than a must list.  I like browsing through it simply to understand better how little I know, and how much more there is to learn.  But for someone to tell me that these 1001 are books that I must read before I die raises my irascibility level, and I say "BS!"

On a less contrary view, I may simply be a very poorly read individual and should take this person's dictate and begin to read the 935 books missing from my education.  If that's accurate, and it may be, there isn't much I can or want to do about it now.  I will continue to read science fiction, a bit of poetry, intrigue, mystery, and any other genre that may catch my interest.  I accept suggestions, recommendations, and hints about what I should or should not be reading, but I'm set enough in my ways to ignore must lists, other than from my wife.

Family Wedding

Saturday evening, May 24th, our family will have a very important occasion, the marriage of Marrianna's nephew.  Literally every one of the family will be present.  He is marrying a young lady who graduated from Wake Forest Law School this past Monday.

 

The event schedule is full.  Between now and Sunday afternoon, something seems to be occurring morning and night.  It's going to be a party.

 

When I said above that everyone will be present, a part of that everyone is our daughter, who is now living in Asheville, NC.  We drove up Wednesday, assisted her with some moving chores, had dinner together, and returned here Thursday afternoon.  We will be taking her back either Monday or Tuesday, preferably Tuesday due to Monday being Memorial Day.  That trip will not be overnight, a quick four hours up, and four hours back.

 

That should explain why I haven't regularly written anything to the blog for a couple of days.  It might not get better before mid-week.

I've been observing the familial relationships of this couple from the periphery.  I  know the bride and groom are loving, well matched people.  What has been interesting is watching the two families come together.  These families are very different, and while the bride and groom have had time to become very close, their families have not.

They like each other well enough.  There's no friction at all, at least as far as I can observe.  But they are different, and I think there's a level of caution on both sides.

Here is an example of what I was writing about last night.  I don't believe I have, but I could too easily go into oversharing, writing more about my family, and theirs, than I think is proper or necessary.  Blogging loosens the restraint between brain and mouth, and before you realize it, you've revealed something that should remain in private thoughts.

As we used to say in the AF, it's shower, shave, and shine time.  My first event of the wedding weekend is coming.

More on Blogging

I've just finished reading the article recommended by Mac in his comment to my last blog post, Blogging.  I sincerely hope that I never become the completely open person she describes.  In fact, the short passage Mac cites begins, barely, to capture how I feel about my blogging.

The will to blog is a complicated thing, somewhere between inspiration and compulsion. It can feel almost like a biological impulse. You see something, or an idea occurs to you, and you have to share it with the Internet as soon as possible. What I didn’t realize was that those ideas and that urgency — and the sense of self-importance that made me think anyone would be interested in hearing what went on in my head — could just disappear

Mac's right, portions are pertinent, but only portions.  Here's my attempt at a similar, personal insight.

The will to write is a complicated thing, somewhere between inspiration and compulsion.  I've never quite reached the stage of biological impulse, of having to write.  Blogging is not writing; it is more accurately a way to feel as if my thoughts are important enough to share.  Though the odds are slim that my thoughts are read beyond a small circle of friends, I once had a faint hope that somehow folk outside that circle would read and engage in conversation, and the blog would grow.  What I didn't realize was that blogging would become a personal means to think about many aspects of life and politics, clarifying my own ideas and positions, and thus the blog's title and my reason for blogging.  The faint hope remains, but isn't important.

That is a hopelessly convoluted paragraph, but it does open a window, oversharing almost as Emily does in her blogging.  It almost says more about me than I want to say.  I never want the blog to be a substitute therapist.  There are aspects of my life and my family's life that will never make it into the blog.

 

Blogging

For the past few weeks I have been very sporadic about writing blog entries.  There could be several excuses, but generally the reason is that I haven't forced myself to sit at the keyboard and write.  I can't think of a topic, so after sitting there a half hour or more without any words, I quit and either quilt, read, or find some other activity.  Such as watching TV with my wife.

I've thought about stopping writing the blog altogether, but just can't seem to finalize that decision.  I've almost concluded that sporadic writing is better than not writing.

Two weeks ago I was playing golf with a fellow I've never been paired with before.  We kind of explored each other's background, and in that he asked about my hobbies.  Quilting, blogging, reading was my answer.  We talked a while about why I quilt, and after that he asked how many daily readers I my blog had.  I answered somewhere between 12 and 20, with occasional spikes around 40.  "Oh", he said, "You have a family blog."

Two weeks later, I am still thinking about that response.  No, this isn't a family blog.  In fact, I would bet that the only family person who reads it regularly is my wife.  Though, in another way of looking, it is a family blog.  The family was formed via email during the impeachment hearings in the 90's.  There are two Brits, a couple of Minnesotans, a lady from Kentucky, and a young man from Washington.

He also asked why I quilt.  I've developed a stock answer to that question, and I trot it out whenever asked.

In the late 80's, I had a business trip to Germany, and I Marrianna went with me.  We stayed in a small, five room hotel in Heidelberg, and we just loved it.  It was over 350 years old, still functioning, still beautiful.  I thought that there is no building in the US 350 years old.

Even then, I was thinking about what I could leave that would be around long after I am gone.  I'll never be able to build a home that will be around that long.  Nothing I write or say will ever be etched on buildings. After returning to the US, I saw a quilt show in DC that had some quilts from the 1700's.  Then I saw a class for hand quilting offered, took it, and was hooked.

I make excellent quilts, good enough that a couple of them have won prizes.  Some may very well be around in 200 years if they are handed down in the family.  I'm proud of them, and feel that I'm accomplishing something worthwhile, that will be around long after I am gone.

That's my spiel, and it usually answers the question.  But I know that there is more. I quilt because most men do not.  I quilt because that fact makes me a bit different from most men, and I like being that little bit different.  Also, I have a Best in Class and Best in Show at the 2001 North Carolina State Fair, and a third place in the 2006 State Fair.   These aren't something I would say to a guy on the golf course, or actually face to face with anyone.  They reveal a little too much ego.  But, I write them in the blog.  What about the blog loosens restraints, providing such freedom?

Tomorrow is my 69th birthday.  I didn't think I would make it this far.  For years, I had a recurring dream that I would die when I was 53.  That didn't happen, obviously, and the dream hasn't reappeared with another year as deadline.   Tonight, I'm writing about quilting and leaving a legacy of some sort.  But I know that legacy will be just so much fabric sewed together if there isn't a life worth keeping it. I know people who would probably say it hasn't been, and I regret that.  But, all I can do now is to work to make it true.

National Security

As I ended my post on Security, I wrote a bit about national security, and that I would return to it another day.  In his comment, Felix complimented me, adding that "... when it comes to the details of national security, we may find that we diverge".  A conversation with Felix is always interesting.  We almost always diverge in some aspect of our conversation subjects, so I thought I'd ramble on this evening about national security.

At bottom, I have conflicting views about national security.  It's easier to say what it is not, rather than what it is.  As I said in that post, "Bluster, bullying, aggression, barriers, and arms are, in my amateur psychological perspective, signs of feeling insecure."  Unfortunately, as I see it, the GWB administration relies almost entirely on four B's, bluster, bullying, barriers, and bulls**t.

Thinking through my fingers now, without any particular expertise, it seems to me national security has two forms, physical and emotional.  Perhaps emotional isn't the correct word, character or confidence would be better choices.  For now though, let me use emotional while the thought clarifies itself.

Taking physical national security first;  simply put, it's the physical strength and ability to right ourselves and retain our identity no matter what threatens our people.  Whether that threat is natural disasters, or internal or external attack isn't really important.  National security lies in our people having the capability to form cohesive, coordinated responses.

As I think about it, that's a reasonably good definition of personal security too.  There's no life without risk or threat.  Security is the confidence that one can withstand the blows and retain our identity in spite of the changes living bring.

National security is defensive, not aggressive.  There is good reason all oaths of federal office begin:

I, [name], do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend         the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and         domestic; ...

It's also interesting that there's no mention in the oath of defending the nation.  The Constitution is deemed to be the nation's core, and its death (or corruption?) would change the meaning of nation altogether.

Extrapolating from that, the nation doesn't need security.  Its security rests in the Constitution.  When the Constitution is secure, so is the nation.  That's a bit far-fetched, but basically accurate.  As with any concept, however, the people and officers swearing the oath are what make it work.  In my opinion, George W. Bush and Richard B. Cheney and their group have done more to damage the Constitution than al Qaeda.

The fingers have come to a place that the mind recognizes that there aren't really two different forms of national security.  All that I've written so far define both physical and emotional security.  National security is the defensive support of the Constitution and the values it establishes. 

There is something missing though.  This definition of national security has no place to assist other nations to be equally secure, and that is precisely where national security takes a very dangerous turn.  When in the name of national security the nation undertakes remaking other nations in our image, we have moved beyond the defensive, Constitutional national security to aggression.

There are numerous reasons to develop a generous foreign aid to assist other nations.  Their security, their "confidence that one can withstand the blows and retain [their] identity in spite of the changes living bring", is equally as important as our own.  The ideal, therefore, would be that every nation be secure.  And any nation's security rests solely on the personal, individual security of its people.

Security Discussion

A friend asked several of us a serious question recently.  "How do each of you define "security"?"  The discussion that followed was interesting, and illuminating.  Here's mine:

I think I know what [s/he] is asking, but defining security requires context.  ...

 

For some, security would likely be freedom from want of daily necessities.  Others would be secure in knowing that they control their lives.  For me, security tends to function around knowing that my future is not likely going to disintegrate, destroying all that I cherish.  That's a form of freedom from fear.

 

Security, it seems to me, takes at least two forms.  First, is access to daily necessities.  Second, for me it involves knowing ... that my lifestyle is not likely to be removed.  I'm not sure that I want to have complete, 100% security, because without risk life is stagnant.

I was immediately, and probably correctly, taken to task by others in the group.  My excuse is that I hadn't taken the time to think about my reply.  Now that I've had more time,  I still think context needs to be part of every definition of security.  And, on the whole, I stand by my quick definition.  It's a matter of degree and adding a level of uncertainty.

There is no such thing as knowing one controls his life, or that his future or lifestyle is not likely to disintegrate.  The concept, however, remains.  Complete security is not possible, or desired.  Though stagnant is overly strong, life without risk, challenge, or goals is, for me, empty.

Since the last paragraph, I've been away from the computer for almost three hours with my wife, and had some rethinking time.  It occurred to me that until very recently I've never felt secure.  My childhood certainly was not, and through my professional careers I've always felt very insecure.  Even my personal life has had a great deal of turmoil.  I'm on my third marriage, and a good part of the reasons the first two failed was the insecurity caused by poor emotional growth.  With Marrianna, there was at first a low level of security that this time it would work.  But it has, and due to that solid base my personal feeling of security has improved immensely.

Looking at my definition, I can see that it is very influenced by my own insecurity.  But it also points out that security has to be defined within several contexts: emotional, financial, professional, and others. In general though, with thought and context, my definition holds up fairly well.

So, I think that's a reasonably definition of personal security.  When the context spreads to national security, more needs to be said.  National security is equally complex, with the survival of the nation a partial context.

Nations seem to need emotional security as well as physical, much as a person.  Bluster, bullying, aggression, barriers, and arms are, in my amateur psychological perspective, signs of feeling insecure.  Of course, the nation has a responsibility to protect its citizens.  Confidence born from strength of character as reflected in its laws and general welfare of its citizens provides a core that others may emulate, but certainly is not foisted upon them.

It's well after midnight.  I'm rambling, indicating that it is time to stop.  Perhaps I'll return to national security another day.

I've Been Otherwise Occupied

Each time I thought I would sit down to write the blog, something would happen that pulled my thoughts away.  If it weren't the quilt, and it was most of the time, it was a book, family matters, or appointments.  No excuses, writing just never seemed to find its way onto the schedule.

That paragraph, for instance, was written three hours ago.  This time it was family that took precedence.  However, I anticipate having a couple of uninterrupted hours now, so let me get to writing.

The book mentioned above was "The Prophet of Yonwood" by Jeanne DuPrau [2006, Yearling, a division of Random House, Inc., New York]. This is a prequel to the Ember Series.  "The City of Ember" [2003], and "The People of Sparks" [2004] preceded it in publication, but follow it by a couple of hundred years chronologically.  All three were discussed by Felix Grant in his Growlery blog, here, here, and here.  He does a much better job of opening the book to prospective readers than I can, and, therefore, I recommend reading his contributions.   We have also written about the misnomer Juvenile literature for this series, my contribution here, and his here.

I've read the three books in the order in which they were published, Ember, Sparks, and Prophet.  I have problems reading prequels.  I believe that I continually try to guess how the author is going to move the characters and story to the place I know it is moving.  That hindered my enjoyment for a while, but I finally let it go and let the story wrap itself around me.

It did that; it wrapped itself around my conscious to the point that for some portions I could only read a chapter at a time, then taking time to consider its message.  These books are excellent books, well written, and tell an engrossing story.  They also have a message.  As Felix says,

Buy copies, and give them to every 9-14 year old you know. Then give a few more to adults, as well, for good measure. Oh yes, and send one to your favourite MP, senator, president, or other politician (regardless of your, or their, political affiliation) while you are at it. Make the world a better place.

There are several meaningful messages throughout the Prophet of Yonwood.  For me, the last few paragraphs of Chapter 28, pages 255 - 256, are as important as any.

It was the picture of the dust mite, a little bent.  She stuck it between the pine cone and the stone, so that it stood up.  It added a note of strangeness that was exactly right. It seemed to say. "Remember, I am here, too, along with other things you can't see.  ...

...  Or if no one finds it, then it can all be for God.  Only not for the Prophet's God, her mean, picky God who dislikes so many things.  It's for my God, the god of dogs and snakes and dust mites and albino bears and Siamese twins, the god of stars and starships and other dimensions, the god who loves everyone and who makes everything marvelous.

All three of these books are very good, similar but different.  As Felix says:

If I had too make a quick and glib characterisation, I would say that Ember is the most inventive book; Sparks the wisest; and Yonwood  the most urgent. But that would do all of them a disservice.

We differ slightly.  For me, Yonwood is the wisest, and Sparks the most idealist.  Yonwood shows us the possible, it also shows us that the work must be continually renewed.  Sparks left me hopeful.  T wonder whether the hope that Sparks ended with continues into the fourth of the series, due out in September.  I have my order in at my local bookstore already.

Changing the subject slightly, each of these books have a photo of Ms.DuPrau in the inside back cover.  Generally, I don't trust these photos.  They could be very out of date, or possibly not even of the author.  This one I like.  As with almost any photo, what is seen is as much from the viewer as the person in the photo, and perhaps that's particularly true here.  But this lady looks interesting.  The photo is good, but it's her books that puts her on my short list of people I would like to meet, have dinner with, and talk about any number of interesting things.  There are two other authors on that list, both women.  One is Ursula K. LeGuin, the other Mary Oliver.  Wouldn't a dinner party with these three be a wonderful evening?  Oh well, now you know another of my small fantasies.

Speaking of bookstores, Marrianna and I visited one of the chain stores this afternoon.  Usually we use local, independent bookstores, but a wonderful lady gave us a generous gift certificate for this one, so we, naturally, had to use it.  Marrianna bought a few gift books and a couple of decorating books.  I bought one small book about writing.

Our local bookstore, Fearrington Village's  McIntyre's Fine Books,  is much smaller than the chain, but it is so much more inviting.  There are easy chairs, a fireplace, and knowledgeable people.  I'm sure the chain has knowledgeable people too, but it just isn't the same.  I don't go in McIntyre's as often as I'd like, because the ambiance pulls and I seldom walk out without at least one book.