I do. Do you?

— By Andy Weinberger, from the Readers’ Books newsletter

We held a wedding last Sunday for Rosie, one of our star employees, and Ryan, her beau. We closed the store that day, decorated it with paper hearts and flowers, shifted furniture all around and made it happen. Rosie is a book person; she feels most comfortable around books and words and stories, so in her mind, this was the best place she could think of to tie the knot.

She asked me to officiate, which I found perplexing at first, but then realized it sort of made sense. In twenty-seven years we’ve hosted thousands of events here, and I am used to standing up behind a microphone and saying things which seem profound, or, if not profound, at least heartfelt and funny. Which I dutifully did. People laughed and cheered. Rings were exchanged. Vows were made. You can’t really go wrong when it’s a wedding, I figure. Everybody wants it to work out, there are no frowning critics sitting in the audience with their arms folded. Everybody’s happy, ready to dance and eat and drink.

And an independent bookstore is like a church or a temple–a sacred space–when you think about it. Especially in this vacuous, cut-rate age, an age where organized religions are losing ground, and more and more people are spending so many hours of the day surfing their electronic devices. Bookstores are silent reservoirs of hope and common sense; they occupy another world entirely, and I would go even farther than that. A bookstore like ours is not, strictly speaking, even about books. I mean, yes, okay, we sell books.  But, more to the point, we are about the total experience of books. About touching, feeling, comparing, arguing, wondering. It’s a magical place. A place that values not just knowledge and history, but creativity. A place that shows–through its very existence–that truth is liberating.

I suspect that were I ever to marry again, I’d probably want to do it in a bookstore, too. I’ve seen news footage of football fans getting married on the fifty-yard line during half time, and baseball people gathered around home plate for the same purpose. So why shouldn’t booklovers be granted a similar venue of their own?

It’s not clear, of course, as to whether we can or even should try to make hay on this idea in the future. The wedding last Sunday was–you’ll pardon the expression–a piece of cake. But others might be thornier occasions. I’ve seen those bridezilla shows on television, and I know how emotions run high around marriage. Right now I can’t quite see it as a business–not unless the perfect couple comes along again. It’s okay, though. Meanwhile, I’ve still got my valid license from the internet, and if love walks through the door, hey, I’m laminated and ready.