I was delighted to see
The Forum’s story featuring proprietor Brad Stephenson and his BDS Bookstore.
For years I’ve been drawn to Brad’s bookstore. It has the beguiling call of the Sirens in Homer’s Odyssey. The very aroma of his store, these books, captivates his customers like a benevolent Stockholm Syndrome keeper.
Let’s start here with this quote from Marcus Tullius Cicero (est. 60 BCE): “A home without books is like a body without a soul.”
I’m a reader. I read 48 books last year. This year I’m up to 38. I grew up with readers. My mom and dad read books every day.
My passion for reading was instilled in me unconsciously and without effort. The bookcases at home were a rotating wonder of novels, biographies, photography and journals.
My parents subscribed to the weekly national “must have” magazines: Life, Look, Post and Time. They arrived every week without fail. They kept me informed on the state of the world by their comprehensive coverage of international and national news, business, sports, opinion, literature, the arts, popular culture.
I have a precious picture of my grandfather sitting next to me. I was no more than two, and I was holding a book. He was sitting next to me and looking directly into my eyes. I was looking directly into his eyes, and you know he was asking me about my book.
The picture is enlarged, framed and hanging by my desk.
I started reading to my kids as soon as they were 6 months old. We have a picture of my first son Justin sitting on my lap and I’m showing him animals, reptiles, flowers, jungles and indigenous third world humans from National Geographic. I explained each picture in detail. I would read to him every night. We had three more children and I read to each of them every single night with the same dedication.
The intention was for them to understand the fascination and wonder of what the books hold. I have photos of each of them at ages 3 laying on the carpet reading an open book.
Mission accomplished.
As a reader I have ignored the temptation of the Kindle, Nook or any digital reader. My books serve as a biography of my life. I not only read them, I tuck bits of daily life in them.
When I look later at the shelved book, I’ll find a plane or concert ticket, a hotel receipt, a clipping from The Forum, a Rolling Stone article or an invitation to an event, photos. You name it.
My favorite “forgotten find” was in a book called The Beatles Recording Sessions. My daughter Ashely, who was four years younger than her big brother, Justin, wrote this on a ripped piece of yellow, lined paper: “Dad, will you please put Justin up for adoption? Love, Ashley. Ba Byeee.”
Yes, that gem is now framed and hanging in our house.
I found this quote about reading: “You know you’ve read a good book when you turn the last page and you feel as if you’ve lost a friend.”
I have my own strategy for when I’m getting close to reaching the end of a book that I just don’t want the journey to end. I start slowing my reading down, stretching out those final 50, 25 or 10 pages. Then it’s over, finished, kaputt.
So, now what? How can anything be better than what I just finished? But the next one often is.
For today it will be by the British historical author, Edward Rutherford.
That’s it. I have nothing else to say, but: READ ON!
James Ferragut is a resident of Fargo.