Word: coops
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...Coop has also sent you a membership application. You have to buy books and supplies, so you might as well pay a dollar for the membership and get the annual rebate on your purchases--about 7 per cent this year. But remember that a charge card at the Coop is not the best incentive to adhere to a strict budget if you have to worry about such trivia...
...Over half the class plays some instrument with the most popular form of expression (not surprisingly) being guitar, piano and of course, listening to stereo. Stereo fanatics run rampant here. Cambridge is an audiophile's paradise. About a dozen stores around the square deal stereo components. The Coop has one of the largest rock, jazz, folk and classical record stocks in Boston. If you're not tuned in before you get here, you probably will be in a short time...
There is one aspect of choosing courses, however, that stands out from the rest in its simultaneous inducement of dreams and deflation of hopes. From the week preceding registration until the day study cards are due, the third floor of the Coop, where course books are neatly stacked on endless rows of shelves, is mobbed with armies of frantic students shoving, chattering, and groaning as they crane their necks and screw their eyes for a glimpse of the books required for various courses...
...some--those steady scholars who are already fairly certain about what they will take or those completely unfettered souls who want only the four courses that will most easily enable them to have a relaxing semester--time spent at the Coop is to be avoided. But for others, like myself, it rivals the darkness of bars and the glitter of movie theaters in Cambridge for excitement...
...Deal, thick tomes of Mann and Dostoevsky, wafts out into the Square and the Yard, drawing to it all possessors of a sensitive nose. I, for one, fondle books almost as tenderly as I do women, and in these hours I wander up and down the Coop's aisles, my fingers get a good workout. The silkiness of untouched pages, the uncreased bindings smooth like a pond on a summer's day, the rugged smell of newsprint only shortly removed from the presses, all make for an experience sensual in its own perverse way. At times, when I feel certain...