There is a visceral joy connected to a print newspaper. The feel of turning the pages, ink rubbing off on your fingers, and carrying it folded under your arm while sipping a cup of coffee.
A long ago Friday night at Borders reading Charles Willeford's The Shark-Infested Custard. Books serve as markers on the timelines of our lives.
The kind of place you find out of print first editions next to pulp novels.
Reels, Records, & Reads 
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