A Eulogy For Borders

[Author’s Note: Yes, I know it’s been eons since I updated this blog. I’m going to have to try to do something about that, but this was too important to me not to write about]

When I graduated college in 1999, like so many before and after me, I had to look for a job. Having a degree in film/video and not knowing anyone in the industry in addition to being unable to take a no/low pay job for “experience,” this proved difficult. I temped for a short time that summer, but working in offices downtown while being dressed up and being folks’ gopher was simply not for me. One day that fall, I came across an ad in the Chicago Reader that a new Borders store was opening in the suburbs and was hiring. I patronized Borders occasionally as they had an excellent music section and the novelty of being able to get coffee and browse in a retail environment was still exciting. So I applied to work in their music department. One quick interview later, I was a Borders employee. I figured I’d work there for several months until I could get my foot in the door elsewhere.

I worked there for seven years.

The first few years there were the best. Most of my co-workers were fun and like-minded, and many years later, I am still friends with some of them. Even though we were a big-box chain, the corporate office gave the stores enough leeway that it still felt somewhat independent. We could cater both our displays and inventory to suit the interests and needs of our community. I worked in the music department at first, and somehow ended up being the classical music specialist – all those years in band helped I guess. We had quite the extensive music selection back then, and at the time DVDs were just becoming popular, slowing pushing out VHS tapes. Customers would ask for me by name to help them out with their music requests. That was not uncommon – many staff members had areas of expertise in the store, and employees and customers alike would depend on them for both recommendations and assistance in figuring out obscure titles. Most importantly, we had fun working there – I have countless stories of time spent there (most of them involve clueless and/or crazy customers) that still make me chuckle all these years later.

Over the years, I made my way through the ranks. I managed the music department & the café, became the inventory manager and by default the second in command behind the store’s general manager and even opened and worked at a different store for a year before returning to my original store with a promotion. During this time, Borders went through a series of transformations, all for worse. There were countless “restructurings” seemingly on a yearly basis: they shuffled the managerial and supervisory positions so many times even I forgot who reported to whom. With an influx of people outside the book business hired to top positions at both corporate HQ and the district level, the company climate changed. Gone was that independent feel of the stores – an emphasis was placed on making all stores look the same and inventory was no longer catered to a store’s community – Borders became less bookstore-coffeehouse, and more Wal-Mart. I could go on and on about the piss poor decisions that Borders made throughout the years that led them to this untimely end, but I’m sure you can read up on that at any reputable business website. I will say this – the steadfast refusal of corporate Borders to listen to their employees in the field is the main reason the company is where it’s at today.

I saw the writing on the wall five years ago. Many good employees were driven out of the company, and I was following them. Seven years of retail takes a toll on even the best employees (I still don’t like Christmas as much as I once did), and seeing as both my pay and the enjoyment of working there was low, it was time for me to go.

I am sad that Borders seems to be on the fast track of closing its doors for good. Without Borders, I would be a different person today – working there taught me many life skills I doubt I’d have today. I also wouldn’t have met so many great people over the years. I would probably have not fallen into so much debt, as my book and music shelves can attest to even to this day. Perhaps with Borders fading away, the once booming business of small neighborhood bookstores can make its return. I hope for that, but considering the success of the Amazons and Kindles, sadly I think the brick and mortar book business may be on its way out for good.

Both stores I worked at are on the closing list. I am waiting to hear from folks that still work for Borders (albeit temporarily), when their last days are. I was there when those stores opened. I will be there when they close.

I wonder how Tom & Louis Borders feel right now.

The Mayors of My Life

I've got the final recap of my roadtrip in the pipeline (after finally finishing uploading 340 photos - yeesh!), but we interrupt my slacking to bring you some Breaking News!

HO-LEE SHEEEIT!

Amy texted me at work to tell me Mayor Daley wasn't seeking a seventh term as mayor. For those who don't live in Chicago, this is a BIG DEAL. Shocking - I honestly thought he was going to stay in office until he had a chest grabber like his old man, Richard J. 42 of the last 55 years has had a Daley running Chicago, so it's going to be hard to imagine this city Daley-less. Not to mention all the $$$ we're going to end up spending peeling Richie's name off of every surface that matters in this town. Seeing as "Da Mare" has been in power since I was in 8th grade (ack), I thought I'd take this opportunity to look back on the Mayors of Chicago in my lifetime.

My Personal Academy Award

I rarely talk about work on here, for several reasons - a) I try not to give away too much information about my real life persona, even though I'm sure almost everyone who reads this knows me personally anyway, b) blogging about work can be tricky - I would never say anything remotely controversial about my workplace, knowing I could could get in trouble if I did. Which I have issues with in general, but that's not a topic for here nor there, c) I know I bore everyone enough as it is, so I don't need to wax poetic about the place I spend 50 hours a week at.

That being said, something important today that I should share - not to brag or boast, but more to put my memories and feelings down before the moment has passed. But first, I feel the need to tell everyone about all the jobs I've worked. So if you're sleepy, this should work better than an Ambien.

Pride, Sports & Getting Sunburnt for the Gay

I am missing Chicago's 41st Gay Pride Parade, which should step off by the time I finish this post. Honestly, I'm not too torn up about about that - with one exception which I'll get to later.

And Then There's One: the Passing of a Golden Girl

What does it say about me that the news of Blanche Devereaux's (Rue McClanahan) death has depressed me way more than the Blackhawks' OT loss last night? A co-worker told me about it this morning and it has put me in a funk all day. By coincidence, I was watching the show just last night in between periods of the Hawks game - it was a great way to lower my stress levels and have a few laughs.

Saturday Nights were a routine for me as a kid: take the L downtown for my ballet lesson in the Fine Arts Building from 3:15-4:15. My parents would order either pizza (half bacon/half mushroom) or Chinese (pork chop suey) for dinner. Facts of Life on NBC at 7pm. Some other show (I remember 227 for awhile there) at 7:30. The Golden Girls at 8pm. I loved the Golden Girls even though I was only 9 when the show started. Several times a year my brother and I would spend Saturday nights over at my Grandma's house so my parents could enjoy a night out. I would always clamor for her to put the Golden Girls on. "That show is not for children!" she would state, but then end up putting it on for me anyway. I really couldn't understand what she meant - I thought it was hilarious. It wasn't until many years later, when the reruns were always on Lifetime that I realized what she meant. I was innocent enough then that all that innuendo went completely over my head. It's amazing to me now how much they got away with.

In memory of Blanche, here's a few of my favorite clips:



The laughter by Rue and Bea is genuine - Betty White had them both in stitches while she deadpanned. 



"Lesbian. Lesbian. LESBIAN." That line makes me LOL Every. Damn. Time.



Finally...the Best of Blanche.

I'd like to think that somewhere, Blanche, Dorothy and Sophia are at the kitchen table sharing a cheesecake, chatting away until it's time for Rose to join them (which I hope isn't for a long, LONG time - I heart Betty White!). God, this makes me sad. Wherever you are Rue, Godspeed! You will be missed!

Post 100: Back in Time When the Floor Shook

To my amazement, this post marks the 100th entry on my blog since I started it at the beginning of the year. I'm shocked to an extent that I've maintained it for this long, as I've never kept anything like this running for more than a couple of weeks. This has evolved into a hockey/sports blog, which wasn't really my intention. No worries, as soon as the NHL playoffs end, I'm sure this blog will become more of my original vision - a home for my snark, random links and stuff I find interesting. I bet you can't wait!

In "celebration" of this occasion, I got the new scanner humming and present you with the following - pictures I took of the Chicago Stadium - the home of the Blackhawks, Bulls, circus, ice capades and random bad concerts prior to the United Center. I don't remember exactly when I took these photographs - it was somewhere between 1988 - 1990 as I did a history fair project on the Wirtz family. Don't ask me why - I guess it was a little more respectable than just a project on the Blackhawks. Of course I no longer have the actual report I wrote as it was done on a typewriter. In any case, one day my dad drove me down to the Stadium to take pictures for the posterboard. I just remember my dad attempting to nervously rush me as back in those days the neighborhood was pretty bad and there was CHA housing close by. Looking back, it's rather comical to think someone was going to shoot us as we took a few pictures, but my dad was being parental I suppose.

Seeing these photographs again bring back so many memories: the anticipation of seeing a Hawks game, feeling the floor shake when the crowd roared, the way your feet would stick to the floor, the swear words I learned at a young age. There will never be another place like it. Le sigh.

A post about the shitstorm that was Game One of the SCF later - I'm going to run across the street now and see if I can still get breakfast at McDonald's!