Once, I loved so many of them. Retailers! I’m talking stores, here!

“To all the stores I’ve loved before
I traveled in and out your doors
I’m glad they came along
I dedicate this song (I dedicate this song)
To all the stores I’ve loved before.”

Ah, Rabsons. On the north side of 57th Street, across from Scandinavian Ski, and the upstairs hair salon where I sat patiently waiting for an apprentice stylist to cut my hair for free (for I was un hombre pobre once upon a time). Rabsons had the finest stereo equipment, and knowledgeable staff. There, I bought BIC cassette players, Thorens turntables, KLH speakers. It was a major step up from Lafayette’s, where I got my start in stereo component equipment.

Joe’s Army Navy...le sigh!!! My Fordham Road favorite! Once I started working at the NYPL on Marion Avenue as a 15-year old, I was rolling in dough, for I made $1/hour as a page. I bought my own shirts, jeans, Li’l Abner work boots, and sweatshirts at Joe’s. I spent hours in front of their windows near Jerome Avenue, planning my next purchases before buying new screens for my pipe at the cigar store on the corner. It was never the same for me, though, after the big fire. Although my dad bought fire-sale sneakers there for $1/pair, and wore them even though they smelled like ashes.

Eagle Provisions…be still, my foolish heart. This palace of Polish provisions gave me so much. Kielbasa. Kabonosy. Zywiec beer!!! Chrusciki! How many shirts did I ruin with your powdered sugar goodness? Where the grandpa would rub the buzz cut of my three year old son as I wheeled the kid around the narrow aisles of this Brooklyn mainstay on Fifth Avenue @18th Street. The family sold the building and I hear it’s now a condo. With an acai bar on the ground floor. WTAF!!!! Jaka szkoda, indeed. What a shame!

Uptown, it’s Alexander’s! I saved the best for last. Alexander’s was where I bought my recorded music, as a teen. Albums stamped “C” were $2.99. D’s were $3.49. E’s (usually double albums) were $3.99. The record department was in the basement. I entered through the 190th Street doors, heavy glass barriers to the world o’retail within. There was a certain solemnity to entering this sacred space. The vestibule had a scent of carpet off-gas. Or, maybe they piped in oxygen to energize the customer experience, as they do in Vegas casinos. For music, though, this was the place, along with Spinning Disc, Music Makers, and Cousin’s (where I got my German-made K55; another story for another day). George Farkas, Brooklyn native, opened this particular store in 1933. All the stores were closed by ’92.

I’ve loved many stores. These are but a few. Now, stores are quaint. Streets are blocked with UPS, FedX, Amazon, Fresh Direct, and Pea Pod trucks — and so many more. The goods come to you. Get them, return them, get new ones, return those…it’s as regular as the tides.

Feh!

“The winds of change are always blowing (blowing)
And ev’ry time I tried to stay (try to stay)
The winds of change continued blowing
And they just carried me a way (carried me away)”