"A university town is only as strong as its independent bookstores.  They assist in the exchange of intellectual thoughts." - Kim Tanzer             

 "The independent bookstore - you know we're almost dinosaurs." - Carl Kroch              

 It was a beautiful morning.  My girlfriend Jess and I decided to take a bike ride around the neighborhood.  We didn't have any particular place to go, so we went down to Butch and Nellie's, our local coffee shop, to grab a cup of joe and discuss the nature of our ride.  My first thought was the California Railroad Museum, but the little woman wasn't feeling that.  Thus ended the charade that our ultimate destination would be anything besides lunch.                

 "Roxys Deli?" I offered. Mike W., SacPress reader and frequent commenter, had recommended Roxys house hot sandwich on Dutch crunch, describing it as "incredible."  Having previously recommended Tres Hermanas, which we tried and loved (the chips and salsa may be the best I've ever had), Mike W.'s credibility couldn't be higher.  We headed up 18th with visions of turkey, pastrami and melted cheddar dancing in my head.  I made it three blocks before being thrown from my waking reverie.              

 On my left, I saw a corner storefront with two-foot-high letters atop the picture windows in front spelling out B-O-O-K-S.  Now, once the subject of lunch has been broached, there are precious few things that can distract me from the mission at hand.  And most of those things (amusement parks, sporting events, a trip to the hospital) usually end up with me eating lunch anyway (cotton candy, hot dogs, hot dogs and cotton candy).  One exception is an independent bookstore - like the one I found on the corner of 18th and F: Richard L. Press, Fine and Scholarly Books.              

 I love independent bookstores. The good ones are so much more than just what the name would suggest.  The best are part art gallery, part history museum, part cafe, part think tank, part animal sanctuary, and part resistance headquarters (vive la resistance!).  I knew when I was greeted at the door by a meowing, short-haired tabby that in Richard L. Press, Fine and Scholarly books, I had found one of the good ones.              

 There are several things that any independent bookstore worth its salt should have.  At, or near, the top of this list is a cat, roaming free among the bookshelves. Check.               

 A well-worn sofa where one can peruse the titles at his or her own pace, strike up a scholarly debate, or maybe, just maybe, start a revolution. Check.              

 Pieces of local art or kitsch on the walls and shelves that are unique to said bookstore.  Richard's has a collection of antique clothes irons (you used to have to put pieces of hot charcoal in them) and blow torches.  You read that correctly, antique blow torches. Check plus.              

 A friendly, fatherly owner who always seems to be in the shop and is happy to show you around. If it is a man, he should have a beard.  Check and check.              

 Someone who knows the owner, smells of coffee and tobacco, and probably spends an inordinate amount of time at the shop, sitting on the floor reading. Check.  In this case, he was in the annex, looking at the Frank Lloyd Wright books.              

 Which brings us to an annex - "We have a lot more books in the back, around the corner, in the basement," et cetera.  Check.  Richard was happy to show us around back.              

 Lastly, and also firstly, one needs to have books: wonderful, beautiful books in all shapes and sizes.  Richard L. Press has them in spades. "Occasionally rare, frequently scarce, always fine" is the bookshop’s apt slogan.  The books are primarily art related, but it is art in the broadest sense of the word.  You need not be an art history major to appreciate William L. Press (If you are, however, be forewarned. Your cup may very well runneth over).              

 I spent a few minutes perusing a collection titled “The Best of Don Martin” – a cartoonist for Mad Magazine.  I also spent time reading about the man who designed the tail fin on the '58 Chevy.  Both of these men are clearly artists, but I doubt you would have studied them on your way to a B.A.              

 Eventually, my hunger got the best of me, and we continued on to Roxys.  The hot house on Dutch crunch is a damn fine sandwich.  Kudos to Mike W. once again for the recommendation.  As good as the sandwich was, however, the highlight of the ride was most definitely the discovery of Richard L. Press, Fine and Scholarly Books.  It is a perfect place for the exchange of intellectual thoughts. If independent bookstores are dinosaurs, we've got a T-Rex on the corner of 18th and F.