Powell’s Books. Glenn has had a long love-affair with the City of Books. Me, not so much. It’s not that I dislike it. It’s that I am not a purchaser of books. I love to read them, don’t get me wrong. But I’m a bigger fan of the library than the bookstore, honestly. Glenn treats Powell’s much more like a library. While I search for my one book that I’m willing to purchase, he makes a stack as long as his arm (which between you and me is pretty long.) Then he sits down and looks through, takes a few notes, sorts the books into purchase or not and starts the process all over again until he arrives at the two or three that he just can’t leave behind. Meanwhile I have my one book and have probably read the first chapter or two by the time he’s ready to go. So most of the time I send him by himself: there’s no pressure to be finished by a certain time or be in a certain section (the rose room?) or even to be locatable in the maze-like shelves.
But last night our teacher in Bible study at Imago Dei mentioned a C.S. Lewis book that we didn’t have so after class we drove over the bridge to Powell’s. And for some reason I loved it. Glenn was a man on a mission instead of wandering aimlessly from section to section which might have influenced me but also I liked the Portland-ness of it. Quirky, bookish, outdoorsy, and a little damp, all wrapped into one.
The secret of my new found love though just may be the mocha at World Cup Coffee, located inside the bookstore. I’m not usually a sweet coffee drinker. Not a fan of flavored creams or egg-nog latte. Pumpkin-whatever-seasonal-drink isn’t going to be my drink of choice. But let me tell you that mocha was life-changing. The perfect amount of sweet with almost a buttery taste from the steamed milk. Sign.me.up.
So there it is–reason number one. Obviously not in any kind of value order. Just a reminder that it’s good to be here. Stay tuned for more Portland gems…