My Visit to Harvard Book Store

A few years ago, okay around seven, I was working for Borders Books as inventory manager and was told I had to go out of town to get trained. 'Where'? asked I. 'Cambridge/Boston. 'Okay!'


Now I'm from the midwest but still have been fortunate to do a lot of travelling, mostly out West. The furtherst East I had been was futher South....through Savannah, Ga. on the way to Florida.

So when the plane landed at Logan, I immedieately knew I was not in Evansville, Indiana anymore.

I rode the hired van from the airport to my hotel...the Royal Sonesta sitting on the banks of the Charleston River in Cambridge overlooking the yacht club and Boston skyline.

The hotel had original Jonathan Borofsky sillhouettes, Buckminster Fuller drawings and Marc Chagalls adorning the walls. There was a bar that was nice for a respite and plenty of shops to check out in the surrounding area.

The training was thorough, lasting 8-10 hours a day with homework, so I really didn't get out much until the second to last night I was there.

The training that day, having let out early suddenly left me with some FREE time! I decided I had two choices. One was to go into Boston and visit a nice Irish pub (I have Irish blood) or go further into Cambridge to Harvard Square.

Since Evansville not long after got a Ri/Ra's pub, I know for sure I made the correct decision in goint to Harvard Square.

On the way down the esplanade along the Charles River in the cab, I realized I didn't have my camera in hand. I told the extremely nice Indian driver my predicament and he said 'I will stop you at drugstore. You get disposable.'

Brilliance and Kindness in a very unique combination, I thought.

In Harvard I dashed about campus snapping pictures like a true madman set loose on the streets. I clicked buildings and housing and posters and so on.

I moved on to Harvard Square. Street performers, poetry readers, guitar playing Sirens sung to me as I snapped my photos as quickly and efficiently as possible (rage rage against the dying of the light)

Then behold....Harvard Book Store est. 1935.

The Holy of Holies.

I made my way into the store and perused the shelves. I read and sniffed and smelled the books. I chatted up the personnel (very personellable) and purchased a first edition first printing of Hamlet Poem Unlimited signed by the author on the title page, Harold Bloom.

All very heady stuff for a cornhead.