Picture it. The year is 1998. My little girl, my only child, my Baby receives a pink walkman and a Back Street Boys CD for Christmas. She is in love. She is enchanted with music. Because she is only a little girl with no viable income I become her idol, the giver of music, a SUPERSTAR, if you will. I too am enchanted by the look of joy in her little brown eyes. I will do anything to make her happy. I drive through sleet and snow into another time zone just to be the first in line for the new Britney CD. I can find the "not yet released" Jessica Simpson CD on the bottom shelf in the back room of Sam Goody two days before anyone else can buy it. I leap over racks in Hastings in a single bound to grab
Now as the Christmas shopping season is upon us once more, I think of the hours I have spent at Barnes and Noble, cafe mocha in hand, searching for the perfect picture book, tween romance, A & P coloring book, nursing and teaching books and the latest Tess Gerritson novel---and then I think of Katy's new Kindle and my heart breaks a little bit.