JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

It’s not so much that the former World’s Biggest Bookstore is being knocked down that bugs me. Nor that the site may become a parking lot (Toronto’s favourite temporary solution to demolitions during the 1960s/70s) while the property’s owner abandons plans for a “ restaurant row ” in favour of a rezoning application. No, it’s the fact that Indigo didn’t remove the store’s shelving before the wrecking ball made its first punch. 

From November 2011 through July 2012 I wrote the "Past Pieces of Toronto" column for OpenFile, which explored elements of the city which no longer exist. The following was originally posted on June 24, 2012. Advertisement, Books in Canada , May 1971. According to veteran Star books columnist Philip Marchand, the test of a good bookstore was simple. “Take a real reader, a habitual browser of books. Imagine that person walking by the bookstore en route to somewhere else. Can he or she resist the temptation to enter the bookstore? To while away a few minutes—well, half-an-hour—instead of attending to business?” The Book Cellar in Yorkville met his criteria, especially its magazine room: “Facing away from the from the Hazelton Lanes courtyard, the room is both quiet and cheerful. To stand there in the afternoon sun, browsing through magazines, listening to strains of Vivaldi or Billie Holiday, is to experience peace.”

From November 2011 through July 2012 I wrote the "Past Pieces of Toronto" column for OpenFile, which explored elements of the city which no longer exist. The following was originally posted on December 2, 2011. The Starbucks at 675 Yonge Street isn’t your typical branch of the corporate coffee giant. The walls are lined with sturdy old wooden bookshelves while the floor is a checkerboard of black and white. Why this location is not like the others is hinted at on the façade. Look up to the second floor and you’ll notice a legendary name in Toronto bookselling: Albert Britnell. The quality of the literature on the shelves inside doesn’t always match the standards the Britnell family maintained for over a century of book retailing, but it’s a nod to the building’s past that comes in handy while waiting for a friend or first date. English native Albert Britnell entered the book trade by working in his brother John’s bookstore in London. Both brothers moved to C...

Source: National Geographic , March 1955 While I didn't wave at the Cascades like Mr. Jefferson... ...I was able to greet a giant inflatible bear and its catch of the morning as I left Coos Bay to begin my lone full day in Oregon. It was Memorial Day, so I kept my eyes peeled for any potential traffic tie-ups due to parades and related festivies. Luckily most towns kept their marching routes off US 101. Decorated home, Florence, Oregon While in Florence, I passed by a ceremony that saluted the efforts of dogs in foreign wars. The crowd made it difficult to tell if any of the honoured pooches were decorated with medals for their service in Iraq. North of Florence were several spots to observe sea lions. There was one tourist trap that offered a close-up view for a steep admission fee. I ended up at a park called Strawberry Hill , which made up for its lack of fruit with a scenic, craggy landscape and an occasional glimpse of sea lions in the distance. Bo...

1 Day five was the first of three full days in the Bay Area. Rather than find lodging in San Francisco, I chose the East Bay for several reasons: Cheap accomodations. A little hunting turned up a Comfort Suites in Castro Valley (south of Oakland) for under $70 US/night. Parking alone in San Francisco could have eaten up to $40 US/day. No desire to drive up the hills in San Francisco. Waiting for a red light in the middle of a steep incline does wonders for my nerves. Easy access to public transit. The Castro Valley BART station was a short drive from the hotel, with plenty of cheap parking ($1 for entry between 4 AM and 3 PM). Comfortable, roomy seats made for relaxing rides into San Francisco and Berkeley, along with an opportunity to catch a few Zs on the way back. Previous success using these tactics, at least for cheap sleeps and public transit, in cities like Boston and New York. First stop in San Francisco was the Ferry Building Marketplace , home to an assort...

My first visit to David Mirvish Books was during some forgotten childhood trip to Toronto. If we were in town on a Sunday, Dad would drive down to Markham Street to pick up that day's New York Times —whether this provided an excuse to browse or that he couldn't purchase a copy at Sunnybrook Plaza is a question I can't answer. While he checked out the art bargains, I scurried off to the children's section as I did in most book stores. I don't remember anything specific about going there other than liking the airy feel of the place. After moving here, I dropped by regularly to check out the deals. It was usually one of my first stops upon returning from A'burg at Christmas, to check out the year-end sale. I rarely left empty handed on those occasions, usually picking up a cheap Taschen book or three. I figured something was up during their annual post-Christmas sale, when boxes of art magazines from the 1960s and 1970s were placed in the middle of the sto...

Whenever I glance at the 50 cent/$1 bin outside of any used book store, there are always one or two titles good for a laugh. In Ann Arbor, this dose of comedy relief is provided by the rolling cases outside Dawn Treader Book Store on Liberty St. Love that title. Alas, a late 80s teen novel about a bunch of misfits calling themselves "obnoxious jerks" was not enough to make Amy or I part with 50 cents US, despite the teasers on the back. Further research reveals that the writer is currently a columnist for Forbes and PC World magazines. Reviews from Amazon . But wait, what is that book The Obnoxious Jerks proudly stands on top of? Since neither of us wants to know about fish tanks exploding or marine lust, we passed on this one. Turns out this was a Canadian book ! Another case that proves my theory that Ann Arbor is the graveyard for Canadian publishers (I've lost count of how many Canadian remainders I've seen over the years - Dad used to buy monst...

Recent headlines surrounding the arrest of marijuana activist Marc Emery and a post on Blamblog yesterday stirred memories of some of my favourite family roadtrips of my early teens. Many moons ago, Emery ran City Lights book store in London. Two hours away from home, it was an excuse to get away for a whole day. We'd hit the road early, usually stopping for for a snack at the West Lorne service station (the Tim Horton's being a radical improvement over the 1867 restaurant that was there on childhood trips to Toronto, which I only remember for its dinginess and smelly clientele - no wonder we used to picnic on the way to my grandmother's house). Until we grew out of it, our usual first stop was the Superstore Mall on Wellington, due to the plastic ball room in Loblaws. Most of the day was spent downtown. After leaving the car in the crazy parking lot at Wellington Square/ Galleria , we'd split up - Mom sticking to the then-thriving mall, Dad and I wandering off to R...

Moved the Sunday Constitutional to Saturday this weekend. Extended the usual route, blinded by the sun as I followed Queen to Roncesvalles. Only purchases were a cheap 3-CD set of a Louis Armstrong bio that aired on CBC Radio and Charlie Chaplin's autobiography. Odd conversation in the bookstore I found the latter: CLERK: Chaplin. JB: Yes. CLERK: Cash. JB: Yes. CLERK: Five. JB: Here. CLERK: Bag. JB: Pack. CLERK: Good. JB: Thanks. CLERK: Later, alligator. Darn, the last line broke the monosyllabic, rapid-fire rhythm.

I was flipping through the business section of the Star a few weeks ago when I came across a story about the Indigo bookstore chain shifting its focus more into gifts, "healing" items and other oddball accessories, reducing the number of books to about 60% of a store's inventory. Plans were also mentioned for converting the remaining Coles bookstores into the "IndigoLite" chain, with a greater emphasis on accessories. All this in a quest to make the company the "book lover's cultural department store". I wanted to throw up. While I admit I spend many lunch hours in the Indigo a block from the office, I can't say I'm in love with the place. It's been easy to see the number of books decline, as more of the first floor is taken up with items like expensive marinades/drink mixes and new age products. This is more pronounced at the chain's downtown locations, where floors that used to hold tomes now feature more and more of the ot...