Got happy?

I thought it was a skill. Come to find out it's an art.

I was looking around Barnes & Noble the other day. It's not normally the bookstore I go to, but the Borders near me has gone away, so there I was.

I'll be the first to admit it - I wasn't feeling as happy as I could. But just as I was getting sadder about the fact I wasn't happy, I stumbled into this section. And really, if this couldn't make me happy then what could?

Apparently I should've been happier since there are a lot of things to be happy about. But then I started thinking - in a world this big, 14,000 didn't seem like very many things to be happy about. I couldn't help think there should've been more. And that made me sad. Because even with thousands of reasons in front of me, at that moment I couldn't think of one.

Fortunately, thanks to Marci Shimoff, I realized I didn't need one. I could just do it. I could just force myself to be happy for the sake of it. The problem with that approach was even if it felt like real happiness, how would I know if it was?

Here's how. Authentic Happiness would tell me by showing me how to put the New Positive Psychology to work. To realize my potential for lasting fulfillment. Truth be told, it didn't need to be that lasting. I'd settle for a couple hours. Or at least enough to last while I was browsing the store. But since I wasn't going to be there that much longer, would I have enough time to find out everything I needed to know to be happy?

Turns out I would, thanks to A Short Guide To A Happy Life. I liked the idea of this one, because first of all I really didn't want to spend a lot of time reading about a happy life - I wanted to get to it. The shorter the guide, the more time for me to get to work on my happiness project. But where should I start?

I'll start here. The Happiness Project will be like a go-to manual for my happiness project. I love it when life works out.

The one thing all this browsing of happiness books made me realize is how many freakin' depressed people there are walking around bookstores.

Frankly, I was happy to get out of there.

Borders line sadness

This isn't the Borders bookstore near me. But it may as well be.

The company has filed bankruptcy, and as part of the restructuring is closing 200 of 659 stores nationwide. Including all the ones in my beachside city.

Now I'm the first to admit I'm completely old school about things like books and newspapers. And by old school, I mean I still enjoy reading them. That's the reason this makes me very sad.

I went in to my Borders today, the first day of its going out of business sale, and the line of about 150 people snaked throughout the store. The place was jammed in a way that ironically it never was when it was doing fine.

People were crashing into each other, grabbing everything they could just to save 20 to 50% off books they probably wouldn't have read if the store were not in this situation. They'll be back when the mark downs go to 50 to 75%, then 75 to 90% once inventory dwindles to nothing in the coming days.

I know many people think this is payback for them - along with Barnes & Noble - for putting so many mom and pop bookstores out of business. And it's easy to understand that sentiment. But somewhere along the way, the same public supporting that theory decided to stop supporting mom and pop, and instead shop where they'd get 20 to 40% off everyday hardcover prices. So the argument rings a bit hollow.

Besides, Costco and Target have discounted books almost from the beginning. And before Borders and Barnes & Noble there was Crown Books ("If you paid full price, you didn't buy it at Crown!"). Book discounting isn't new.

But there's a larger sadness for me, and it didn't just start with Borders closing. It started with eReaders.

I can't imagine giving up the tangible, visceral experience of holding a book in my hands while reading it. The texture of the binding, the smell of the print, the sound of the spine cracking when it's first opened. To me it's a deeper, richer and more satisfying experience than reading on a Kindle or iPad (as bitchin' as the iPad is). And since I've read books one at a time my whole life, I've never seen the need to carry a thousand of them with me wherever I go.

Even though sometimes I read the L.A. Times online, for the most part I'm also set in my ways with newspapers.

In one of my versions of heaven - not the one where Halle Berry stops pretending she doesn't know I'm alive, the other one - there's a coffee shop and the Sunday paper fresh off the presses waiting for me. I know some news has happened since the paper was delivered, but not enough to make it not worth spending time with.

If I want up to the minute, I know where to find it.

It'd be an ironic twist that as these giant bookstores begin disappearing, and people like me still want published, physical books, a resurgence of mom and pop stores suddenly start springing up to carry them.

Hopefully it won't be an either/or situation, and there'll be room for brick and mortar as well as digital bookstores to coexist.

We'll see what the next chapter holds.