Book lovers don’t mind banning books

And other observations from our family’s recent beach get-away.

Sundog Books in Seaside has plenty of great books, just not any that go against “The Current Thing.” Now that I think about it, Seaside might have been America’s first “15-minute city.” Note the bicycle rack. 

Our family recently returned from a 3-night get-away to Destin, Florida. This gave my wife, two children (ages 7 and 11) and I a chance to work on our tans. It also gave me a chance to make some “people/world watching” observations for my Substack column.

Since I’ll argue to the IRS this was a working vacation, I can perhaps deduct most of my expenses as a business expense. (As you’ll see, I did a couple of professional interviews.)

Here are five beach observations that stood out to me: 

The Sundog book store in Seaside doesn’t sell The Real Anthony Fauci

On the drive back from Destin, we extended our vacation by visiting the “Beaches of 30-A” about 25 miles east of Destin proper.

Seaside is perhaps best known as the community where the movie “The Truman Show” was filmed. 

The best-known business in Seaside is probably Sundog Books. As my wife reads more books in a month than most people read in a lifetime, we had to visit this establishment and run up our American Express bill a little more.

I ended up buying the recently-published memoirs of Paul Newman and a paperback version of the screenplay of “The Truman Show.” 

While browsing, I became curious if this famous regional book store carried any Covid books. I was particularly interested in whether it sold Robert Kennedy, Jr’s book, The Real Anthony Fauci.

After I’d found no contrarian Covid books, I asked the clerk if the Sundog had Mr. Kennedy’s book.

“No,” she said. (In case the IRS is reading this, this constitutes one of my interviews).

The clerk did ask if I wanted the store to order the book and I replied, “that’s okay” as I actually already own the book and, in fact, wrote a glowing book review about it. (I also got the impression this book store clerk had never even heard of this book, which I found distressing).

I actually think this little beach observation might be telling us big things.

What it tells me is one of the best-known book stores in the Southeast very possibly decided to ban a book that doesn’t fit the authorized narrative.

In my opinion, book store owners who care about stocking important or provocative books should NOT do this. (And, for what it’s worth, if it had been read by many more people, this particular book might have saved many lives.)

I could understand not carrying an obscure book, but that’s not the case with The Real Anthony Fauci, which somehow still sold well over a million copies and was the No. 1 non-fiction best-seller in the world for many months.

The book was also written by a man who recently announced he was running for president of the United States and this man’s last name is “Kennedy,” a name most book-readers have probably heard.

The book is about Anthony Fauci, another man most avid readers have probably heard of.

True, it’s a controversial book, but controversy, I thought, sells books. 

Upon learning that the book store didn’t carry this book, I asked myself why such a prominent book store that caters to the civic-minded and educated class wouldn’t offer its customers a book like this.

I didn’t ask store employees this obvious follow-up question because I didn’t want to make a scene. (I’d gone almost four whole days - a personal record -  without bringing up Covid topics and this happened to be Mother’s Day so my restraint was my Mother’s Day gift to my bride). 

My hypothesis is that the book store’s owners didn’t want to risk any controversy by carrying this particular book. 

I’m a big believer in the theory of “The Current Thing.” This maxim postulates that business owners (and just about everyone else) feel much safer in their lives if they simply go along with the Current Thing. 

Selling The Real Anthony Fauci would probably have offended the sensibilities of many of The Sundog’s more liberal, woke clientele.  Stocking the book might have led to an organized boycott of the store or lawsuits for intentional emotional distress.

I don’t know if Seaside has a Department of Disinformation yet, but if it does, I’m sure it would have been flooded with complaints from offended “book lovers.”  

In our New Normal times, not selling the book poses zero book-store risk.

The only people who might protest would be those who became irate that a book-selling business was … selling a book. Closet contrarians who would like to read this book, and aren’t terrified by words on a page, would no doubt keep these opinions to themselves … and buy the Paul Newman book.

As I pointed out in a recent article, if you can ban gas stoves and 75-watt light bulbs to save the planet, you can certainly ban dangerous books that also challenge the Current Thing.

One more Sundog observation literally stared me in the face

While searching in vain for contrarian Covid books, I glanced across the aisle from the Health and Science sections and saw a column of shelves featuring vintage book bags. 

The book bags featured titles of famous novels like The Great Gatsby. The most prominent book bag had art work from the book 1984. The script said, “1984” and depicted a giant eye ball and the words “Big Brother is watching you.”

That dang eye ball was looking right at me as I was looking for contrarian Covid books that went against the Current Thing.

Right there in the Sundog, I got the New-Normal hibbie jibbies.

Sh*t yeah, Big Brother is watching … And the SOB no doubt approves of this book store’s decision to ban books like The Real Anthony Fauci.

I could have stirred things up and pointed out the obvious irony, but it was Mother’s Day and everyone was having such a good time, so I let it go. Plus, I did get a good vent column (my work product from my working vacation) out of my little observations.

The State of Florida is going to bill me for driving on a toll road

I live in Alabama, which might lead the nation in fewest toll-road highways. But our neighbor Florida is full of pay-as-you-go thoroughfares. Two of these these toll roads are outside of Destin.

What struck me about the first one is the sign that said (paraphrasing from memory): “Don’t stop. You will be billed later.”

“Oh, dirty word,” I thought to myself. What I really started thinking about was this is the way these “15-minute” and “smart cities” will be organized in the future.

Apparently license plate cameras are already everywhere and (see above) Big Brother with his Big Eye already knows when you’re zooming down some stretch of road. You don’t even have to slow down any more. 

In five years (maybe three), I won’t even get a “driving” bill in the mail. The price of the toll will be automatically deducted from my digital currency account.

With the 15-minute-city innovation, I’ll be billed (fined) when I surpass my Big Brother driving quota of X miles per year. 

So they are going to ban driving over X miles per year. I won’t even be able to fight the charge by saying, “Hey, my dog ate the bill.” (Annie, my corgi-terrier mix Substack partner, actually does eat bills).

…. The other toll was the old-fashioned variety where I had to stop and ask the kids for some of their vacation pocket money.  The toll was four dollars! 

The last time I had to pay a couple of those Florida tolls they were $1.50 or $2. Take-away: Toll inflation (at least 100 percent) is about the same as the Ruffles Potato chips inflation and Mrs. Stouffer’s Lasagna inflation (as noted in a recent “grocery store observations” dispatch).

As I found out a few hours later, the price of the toll was about the same as the price of one beer at a restaurant or bar. Oh, well … I paid the toll and paid for the beer(s). Thanks, paid subscribers!

Beach Observation No. 3 - only one masker seen!

In three nights and four days - at one waterpark, one go-cart track, one arcade, seven or eight restaurants, a couple of souvenir shops, several gas stations, one 22-story condominium, and one beautiful white-sand beach, I saw a grand total of one person wearing a Covid mask.

This person was a young lady working at an Alvin’s Island souvenir business. (There are more Alvin’s on beach rows in northern Florida than Dollar Generals in south Alabama).

Since my wife wasn’t with me, I couldn’t resist and asked the clerk:

“Why are you wearing that damn thing?” (This would be Interview No. 2).

She replied, “None of your damn business.”

To which I replied: “Fair enough … How much for the turquoise-and-pink Destin baseball hat?”

I couldn’t understand her answer through her mask, but I bought the hat for my wife’s Mother’s Day present anyway.

“It’s just the little differences …”

I did wonder how many masks I would have seen if our family had visited some beaches in California and not the Free State of Florida. Probably a lot more than one.

Beach Observation No. 4  ….

I saw “help wanted” signs at just about every business in the Panhandle of Florida. For all my doom porn about inflation, I can report that people are still spending a lot of money to go to the beach.

If my Substack business doesn’t take off, and if I can learn to wait tables or sell boogie boards, I should be okay.

Last Beach Observation …

In Destin, all the little rustic beach cabins I remember from my childhood have become high-rise condominiums. On the Beaches of 30-A, many have become $12 million mansions.

It occurred to me that for many people these are second (or third) homes. This made me think the 1 or 2 percent are a lot richer than I am and that life for the top pyramid of Americans must indeed be a day at the beach.

Rich, poor or hanging-in-there middle class, any day spent at the beach with family members who love you is a genuine blessing … and our family counted some of those blessings last week.

True, I wish fewer books were being banned and Annie will probably eat the toll bill I’ll soon get from the State of Florida, but our family is already looking forward to our next beach get-away.