Author: Bob Benz

I always thought Amazon.com was everything Internet commerce should be. It was technologically smart and utilitarian. Comprehensive. Convenient. But when push came to shove, it came up lacking in the most important category: heart.

I bought three $50 gift certificates for my nephews and niece for Christmas 2001. For some reason, they never used them and by the time I found out and tried to help them with their order, it was one year and one day after I bought the certificates. They expire after one year.

I sent a note to Amazon. Noted I spend a lot of money with them. Asked if I could still redeem the certificates. Afterall, we’re talking one day. Loyal customer. A lot of business. I understand that businesses have rules, but good businesses know when to be slavishly adherent to rules and when to bend them. This, I argued, is a case where Amazon should cut me a break.

They disagreed. After talking via e-mail to several folks there, I realized my money was gone and they weren’t going to honor the certificates (even though they had my money). So I told them to remove me from their databases. I was taking my business elsewhere. (To their credit, they appear to have done so; I’m not getting any Amazon spam since I made that request). I figured I’d give Barnes and Nobel a shot.

But then I stumbled across an independent bookseller in Portland, Oregon: Powell’s Books. I remember visiting there when I was in Portland once. It was impressive, taking up an entire city block or so and having a very personal feel. It reminded me of the Tattered Cover in Denver.

I’ve placed my first order with them, and I’m very impressed so far. Their e-commerce engine is easy to use and flexible, and I like the flexibility built into their shopping cart. And the relatively obscure titles I was chasing were in stock. I even found used copies, which will save me some money. Next time you’re looking for a book online, give them a shot:

http://www.powells.com/

I’ve been reading the diaries of Samuel Pepys, as posted online in blog format. Pretty fascinating (and often mundane) stuff. Pepys (pronounced peeps) was the father of the modern British navy, but he also had a habit of writing down everything he did, day in, day out. His writings start on New Year’s Day 1660 when he was 26 and run for nine years, filling six 282 page notebooks. The New York Times had a review of a recent Pepys biography, and that’s where I first read of him. When I saw this online diary, I started reading it and got hooked. A lot of it is the mundane stuff of everyday life in the 17th century (“From thence to my father

I don’t lack for Grateful Dead CDs. But I wanted a set that compiles their best live performances. I have several of the Dick’s Picks series, but I wanted something that combines the best SONGS, not necessarily shows. After a little research, I settled on a box set, So Many Roads: 1965-1995. I’m generally not a fan of box sets. Unreleased tunes generally aren’t released for a reason. And I’m not terribly interested in rarities and alternative takes. But this one looked promising. Lots of live performances. A few from the studio. I slapped it in the six CD changer in my truck (along with Cafe Tacuba’s first album) and listened for several weeks. Overall, I like it. But there are several spots where I find myself repeatedly reaching for the “skip” button on the CD player.

— Surprisingly, I really like the early selections, circa 1965, including “Can’t Come Down” and “You Don’t Have to Ask,” Both of which didn’t made it into the regular live rotation. They’re an interesting chance to hear the Dead in its formulative stage.

— A 1988 version of “Playin’ in the Band” is everything I love about the band. It stumbles out of the gate, with Weir bungling lyrics, but then it picks up steam and starts chugging forward only to dissolve into total, beautiful chaos. This is what space was supposed to be. Not some prefab chunk of sound that is tucked before or after the drums. The great thing about Dead shows was knowing that Apollonian order could dissolve into Dionysian frenzy at any moment, and being there to revel in it when it did. This version of “Playin’ in the Band” fits the bill.

— I catch myself skipping everything that has Brent Mydland singing lead on it. I never liked him much in that roll, though I love his keyboard work. (I’ll never forget his sound during “Sampson and Delilah” at one particularly serpentine Civic Arena show in the early ’80s; it echoed in my head for WEEKS afterward.)

— Don’t have much use for disc 5 at all. I’ve always found “Terrapin” to be somewhat tedious, and most of the ’90s Dead I’ve heard was as listless as Garcia himself during those years.

— Surprisingly (again), the long Pigpen blues jams don’t do it for me. They get repetitive and start spinning their wheels. I really think I like him much better in the context of their more psychedelic sound.

In the end, I guess I need to get into recording my own CDs and put together a few CDs with my favorite live tunes. This set is good, but it wasn’t really what I was after.