That Song by U2, or, Disappointment

My brother is a huge devotee of Edward Abbey. Back when I lived in the States I introduced him to "A Fool's Progress," a novel that I thought was hilarious and sad, and he took the horse by the reins and opened it up on the plains, reading and buying anything Abbey. He loved in particular Abbey's works on the desert, and traveled to Page, Arizona on a dare that he read between Abbey's lines.

This past week in Carlsbad my brother and I got in an impassioned discussion about nature and society and he loaned me "Desert Solitaire" to read. I made it to a chapter entitled "Cowboys and Indians" before I had to give it back. Since I now hail from a City entrenched in environmentalism and green, I thought I would find a gazillion copies of "Desert Solitaire" over a span of the San Francisco libraries and bookstores.

The Main Branch of the San Francisco Library no longer has it--they are all overdue and billed or missing. (How fitting, given Abbey's anarchy.) There are copies available in two other branches that I don't often go to, but I may have to make a special trip, for the book is not to be found on the shelves of bookstores in San Francisco. If you want Abbey in this town, you can read "The Monkey Wrench Gang." THAT'S IT. Not "A Fool's Progress," which I could readily find in Southwest Missouri. Not "Desert Solitaire."

What. The. F....

To add insult to injury, if you go to the websites of two Pacific Northwest favorites of mine, Powell's Books of Portland, Oregon, and Elliott Bay Book Company of Seattle, Washington, Abbey is readily available in nearly all of his forms.

Our big-time, supposedly literary and environmental City, is shown up by the grunge capitals of the universe. It may be time for me to move north.

My hope was this: I have the free time. I'll find this book in my City, my beloved land of culture and anarchy and nature-loving, tree-hugging freaks. I'll find it and see the City again and I'll be proud to BUY LOCAL. But local doesn't have it. So I'll have to check it out of the library, instead of reading it and donating it to the library.

It's a heartache.

Onward, dear reader.

P.S. - This is where the title of this post of Life For Rent comes from. Thought I'd pick one with my Boss in it, as well. Enjoy.