During the 80s I worked in a Calgary bookstore that didn’t really “do” the Christmas thing. We sold philosophy (Eastern and Western), books on math and physics, Eastern religions, stacks of the I Ching (the Princeton University Press grey-dustjacket hardcover edition), books for gays and lesbians (looong before anyone else had “gender” sections, when stores were still being “busted” for carrying so-called “obscene” literature – for instance, we sold many, many copies of Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City series), armchair travel rather than travel guides, only vegetarian and macrobiotic cooking in the cookbook section, none of the big bestsellers or even books for children. But we did stock new age and progressive music … on vinyl. The fiction section was one long wall, packed, floor to ceiling, with a ladder to access the nether regions. That section wasn’t divided into genre or nationality either, but was alphabetized according to…