We drove to the small town of Seaside, FL. Cindy had spent some time there a few years ago. She wanted us to see her favorite little bookstore: Sundog Books. It sits right in the heart of the quaint little beach community. The bottom half of the two-story building is dedicated to books. Lots of hardware floors and large open windows. Stacks of oddly arranged books. Plenty of atmosphere.
The top half of the building is dedicated to audiophiles. A place called Central Square Records. Far less bustling than its downstairs neighbor, but equally packed with adventure. All different genres of music whimsically placed under hand-written signs. I liked the mottled atmosphere but I was depressed there wasn't a DJ spinning live tunes on an old turn table. And I don't think I saw anywhere to buy any coffee in the place. Music and books and coffee go together like Hemingway and Cuban Rum. 
Back downstairs, I think I found the Sundog himself. Curled up in the middle of the scuffed wooden floor. Resting in the sunlight. An old stud of a dog. Slow and graceful. He didn't bother anyone. And didn't look up as I captured his image. Sat there and enjoyed the noise and heat of the crowd spinning around him. I don't know if they named the joint after this dude, or not. Maybe he showed up after-the-fact and claimed the place as his own. Either way, it was amazingly appropriate and smacked of obscenely good karma. Quite a comfortable place for everyone involved.
Amid the stacks of books, on a display table close to the front door where they'd get the most attention, I found a curious pair. The combination made me chuckle. How many folks passed by without catching the joke?
Next time we find ourselves in Seaside, FL, we'll be stopping by Sundog Books to pick up our intellectual supplies.
No comments:
Post a Comment