Gayle and I left my house in Pennsylvania’s Lehigh Valley at 7:50 a.m. Our destination was the Embassy Suites in Marlborough, Massachusetts, for EH Jacobs’ book signing at Tatnuck Booksellers tomorrow.

I noticed the other day that Dunkin has its spring menu out and I was very excited to have a pistachion flavored coffee. So, after about an hour on the road, we stopped in Bernardsville, N.J., for breakfast at Dunkin — and I didn’t like my coffee. Which I used to love.

For some reason, no matter how many times I told the GPS not to, it insisted on taking us over the George Washington Bridge and threw the Bronx. That was unexpected.

And somewhere early on in Connecticut, the tire pressure light came on. But briefly thereafter we stopped at a service center in Alltown that had free air, but it was too cold and windy to check the tires and deal with them. I’m fairly certain is the 60 degree to 30 degree temperature drops from the course of the last week causing issues, but it could be every time I come to Massachusetts, I don’t put enough air in my tires.

New Haven

Before we left I googled interesting bookstores around the half-way point so we can get out of the car, wander a bit and connect with some new people. New Haven popped up as the stop with the most potential based on geographic location, the time we left (Because we leave early and stuff isn’t open sometimes until 11 a.m. or noon), and the number of potential stops in the vicinity.

It’s usually done by gut feel, google search and social media. And I typically completely forget WHY I picked a place.

STOP 1: POSSIBLE FUTURES

So, if you don’t know, I have a bachelor’s degree in English/French language and literature and a second bachelor’s in international affairs. I did somewhere around a third of my master’s degree in world history– where I intended to focus on post-colonial Francophone Africa. My academic interest is in stereotypes and the racism against indigenous people, especially in the case of the French, the prejudice against Muslims. The French treated the Muslim colonial subjects as the lowest class of citizen, deeming them unfit for miscegenation (a tactic popular as part of the civilizing mission in Asia, for example) because it would weaken the French bloodlines.

Gayle and I approach this bookstore and find a mural. Gayle loves murals. We find a memorial to abolitionist Ruth Wilson Gilmore and evidence that in warmer weather this area houses a container garden.

The academic critical theorist in me loved seeing the works of Aimé Cesaire and Franz Fanon on the shelves, with memoirs of people like Josephine Baker (which I almost bought). Black novelists (stunning collection of Octavia Butler, but she is making a comeback) and quite a few Louise Ehrlich. The inventory included feminist books, Muslim books, lots of queer and other marginalized voices. And such great vibes! This one will make my bookstore and book detour list as part of my Substack newsletter/resources.

Although our other stops were only a mile away on the Yale Campus, we opted to drive as the wind was brutal.

And I did the worst parallel park job of my life on York Street. We’re not going to talk about it. But in my defense, the space was small. But I got in it!

GREY MATTER (south)

This was a really great used bookstore with reasonable prices. (Have you been to those bookstores that base their prices on the original price of the book? I don’t like those.) I bought three books– The Long Island one by Taffy what’s-her-name and two books about colonization in Africa from the 1960s. My bill was $19.

I’m not sure if I should write this… but the vibes between the two places made me think… Possible Futures was obviously the more liberal place and had a lively energy, lots of color, friendly staff who liked to chat, and a real sense of mission and place. Grey Matter felt much more conservative, dusty and stodgy and entrenched in that sense of academia and, well, whiteness. (Which one of my Africa books is by an Indian man from an Indian publishing company so I can’t wait to see his report of what was happening in Africa.)

Gayle grabbed an iced chai on the way back to the car, but sadly she dropped it before she even had a sip.

Speaking of sad, the GPS continued its revolt and took us up smaller roads to the Boston area. Route 20 looked very, very strange. The buildings were all empty at the side of road and neglected and lots of construction everywhere– Gayle thinks they are widening the highway.

We arrived at the hotel and were extremely impressed with our room. And the snacks. And the location and the friendliness of the staff. We were scheduled to meet author E.H. Jacobs and his wife at Welly’s for dinner. And I gave Ed his royalty check.

I had a lovely fig and arugula pizza and came back to the hotel for a soak in the hot tub.

I had hoped to fulfill one of Gayle’s wishes and go see Harvard’s Gutenberg Bible, but we discovered too late that they do not have Saturday hours.