Why can’t New York City get its act together and put in a decent card shop near where I live or work? Or, you know, it doesn’t even have to be near where I live or work. It could be out in Canarsie, or up on the Upper West Side, or even in a hole in the wall on St. Mark’s Place. I just need to be able to go in there once a month or so and be able to flip through the crusty pages of a three-ring notebook filled with overpriced Robin Yount doubles. I’m sick of only being able to buy stuff mail order or on eBay.
Comic book collectors have always taken a lot of shit. They may think they have the right to complain because of this, but baseball card collectors, in my estimation, have it much worse. Comic book collectors don’t know how lucky they are, especially in New York City. They’re going through a near-Renaissance, if you ask me, what with at least two strong shops in Midtown Comics and Jim Hanley’s Universe on 33rd. Baseball card collectors ain’t got shit. Nothing. Not even a neighborhood drugstore where we can buy a couple of packs at near-outrageous prices and ogle FHM with a pesky, balding, old-timey pharmacist in wire-rim glasses looking down over them disapprovingly from the back of the store. (And if you know of any place like this, let me or Josh know right away).
You know, actually, I’m sure there are places in New York City that sell baseball cards. I’ve been looking and just haven’t found them. Part of me wants to be more than just an active appreciator of baseball cards, and make buying packs and singles and Ultra Pro pages and slippery plastic sleeves and top loaders and 800 count boxes part of my routine again. And the fact that I can’t seem to figure out how to do this in one of the biggest cities in the country and the world, well, that’s the most frustrating thing of all.