I am standing behind the counter of a small business, Tsunami Books, a bookstore for the progressive mind, on the busiest street this side of town. I am one of the worker-owners. I built this counter 29 years ago, with builder Chris Cassidy and store partner David Rhodes, out of gymnasium bleachers reclaimed from Roseburg High School.

At this midday moment I am the only human in the 4,000 square foot building. Being alone in a big room full of books and memories is not the worst thing in the world. But this is a business that pays rent by the foot, and always strives to pay us clerks a little more. 

So it hurts to say that we’re currently experiencing the biggest drop in business since the early Bush era, followed only by the late Bush recession of ’08. I’m not sure what to do, so I’m writing this note to the community.

From what I heard on NPR the other day, unless you happen to own both a Dollar General franchise and the property it’s on, your business is most likely already in a downturn. And by the time we hit rock bottom the corporate vultures flown in from wherever will gut us through the rear.

I’ve worked behind this counter pretty much every day for the past three decades. People often come here with their stories. It goes with the books and music, and the thousands of community activities that have occurred at Tsunami Books. I’ve heard thousands of stories.

Lately, these past seven months, many of the people who come in are spending too much time doom-scrolling, miserable and too often angry. They don’t like the way our country is going under the present leadership — and maybe even the last leadership cabal — and they don’t know what to do. They clearly need an uplift, and we try to offer one as a part of our service.

It feels like money is tight everywhere. It may be a good thing when the net worth of someone like Elon Musk shrinks quickly over a few months, but it’s never a good thing when all of us working people are suddenly on edge.

Yesterday afternoon I was in a St. Vinnie’s, a big one. I could only see one other shopper. Done shopping, I drove to the next St. Vinnie’s. Again, one other shopper and a burly security guard.

The bike shop up the street from us is selling all its bikes at half price, and closing its showroom. The used sporting goods shop across from us is at 50 percent off, its shelves quickly emptying. So many people’s favorite gym up the street closed after 25 years. Another café closed. At least one big bar is rumored to be shutting its doors. There has been a “for lease” sign on the big building up the street for at least two years.

I’ve talked with many small business people around the neighborhood, and many others who come in the store from all over the county. Even those who own their own buildings are hunkering down.

The Register-Guard has a newish, ongoing feature: new businesses opening, and other businesses closing. To any new indie business, best of fortune to you. And congratulations to the small indie businesses that are thriving despite it all. Still, far far too many businesses are closing.

Please patronize your favorite local businesses — the store fronts, the pop-ups, the home-based, the artists and crafters. And check out as many others as you can. It’s fun to do, and can be a real adventure. For someone simple like me it often feels like a trip around the world, which makes it a cheap trip. Best of all, it helps pay a lot of people’s rent in a town of skyrocketing rent.

I suggested to a friend the other day that we go to a particular bar for a beer after work. “I don’t really want to give what little extra money I have to (that bar) at this time,” she said.

“But I’m ready to go to (this bar).”

We went, had one beer each, and had a good time. Then we left a 50 percent tip. That’s right, 50 percent!

I say, “Always tip well. If you don’t like the place or the service, don’t go back. But still tip well. And if you do like the place or the service, tip ridiculously well.”

Granted, some very few of my friends advise me to never “over-tip.” But none of my other friends do.

Wherever you live in Lane County, whatever your politics, support your small indie businesses now, maybe more than ever. We all want to get through these “interesting times” with the bills paid, our self-respect and a little money to spread around.

Scott Landfield is the owner of Tsunami Books at 2585 Willamette Street, TsunamiBooks.org.