Las Vegas:  A Potemkin Village

- by Bruce E. McKinney

Lou Donato in the shop he shares with his wife Myrna

By car or taxi five miles northwest two other dealers go on about their business.  Nevada is very over-built and the city, in its heyday thought it needed square miles of shopping centers that have now gone mostly vacant, the spaces running down, the signs bleached white by the sun and wind, grass sprouts bending away from the wind and portending a victory by nature if this race continues its present course.  Here, on opposite sides of Decatur Street and perhaps three quarters of a mile apart across eight lanes of traffic, are some of the true believers, people who grew up with books and now, well into their sixties, continue to believe in them.   Myrna and Lou Donato, once of San Diego and here for thirty years have been local long enough to have seen the ponies breakdown.  But never mind.  Myrna specializes in cookbooks and was recently recognized in Vegas Magazine for her skill and selection.  Lou looks after everything else.  In their eyes are friendship, even fun but not a lot hope.  The empty buildings nearby, the evident wear, the empty parking lot and the stray weeds make clear this is a battle zone, a Beirut of books and civilization mashed by a declining economy, a situation so tough even Democrats may vote Republican.  While we talk a young mother and her child course the shelves of used children’s books and try to negotiate for a handful of worn titles.  “Half off, that’s it.  I can’t do better.”  Next-door is a commandeered boarded-up store to stack, sort and price the lucky books that will make it into the retail space.  The remainders will disappear, going to good homes and causes that can benefit.  It’s a business and a tight ship and needs to be.  Just a month ago and three miles distant The Book Magician, the Donato’s old shop, cashed their chips.

Across the way Greyhound’s Books hangs out under a Used Books sign about the size of Rhode Island.  The sign needs to be big because what traffic they get needs to see them from the distant highway.  With for-rent signs everywhere they have become a destination retailer without ever leaving their mall’s precinct.

Here one half of the DeFlumear life-long partnership, Phil, takes some time to talk.  They’re open six days a week 2-6.  It’s quiet today and I expect quiet most days.  In my experience bookshop owners often live in the thrall of their material and I think this is the case here.  Phil, 68, is new to the Vegas game, being here only 7 years after a Washington DC career that included a steady transition from bureaucrat to bookseller going back to the 1980s.  Books are in the man’s blood, he needs them and I think its fair to say they need him.  To keep the embers alive he teaches “bookselling” at the UNLV, once the stalwart university basketball powerhouse under Jerry Tarkanian.  No doubt a few bookmakers have misread the synopsis and signed up.  He’s a true believer.