Huckleberries: The Well-Read Moose struck a chord with proprietor, bookstore customers

Melissa DeMotte loved the name as soon as she heard it: “The Well-Read Moose.”

“I’m sort of geeky,” the Coeur d’Alene bookstore owner told Huckleberries, “and moose are geeky animals.”

A bookstore consultant suggested the name. While enjoying a beer together during a Florida conference, Mark Kaufman of Paz & Associates had asked Melissa about Coeur d’Alene, which he pronounced “Cur d’Alene.” He Googled “Coeur d’Alene” and was impressed by the outdoor nature of our slice of paradise. Looking up from the laptop, he said: “Well-Read Moose.”

And the rest was her-story.

Why is Huckleberries telling you this? On Wednesday, Melissa and her well-read crew celebrated the third anniversary of The Well-Read Moose at Riverstone – Coeur d’Alene’s alt-downtown along the Spokane River.

Five years ago, the Hayden bookworm and chief finance officer began responding to the siren call to open a bookstore. The closure of the Borders bookstore along U.S. Highway 95 heightened the urgency. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Melissa said. Adding to the degree of difficulty, Melissa also opened a cafe to serve her customers. “Basically, I was starting two different businesses under one roof,” she said. “I had a steeper learning curve on the cafe side.”

At 54, Melissa considers The Well-Read Moose to be her “final gig.” Says she, “I want to build a sustainable business that lasts well beyond me.”

Huckleberries and many appreciative readers second that emotion.

What is it

Marlene Craig and her hubby, Randy, have discovered a “menagerie of abandoned toys and whatnot” during their walks with their dog at English Point on Hayden Lake. Last year, they spotted a few toys and beads around the rim of a rotted-out tree stump. Now, there are about 20 Happy Meal-type toys, including two dinosaurs, a sparkle pony, a train engine and a Bambi deer. Marlene emails Huckleberries: “The collection is growing. Kinda creepy, kinda amusing, and kinda what the heck? Is there meaning to this? Do we want to know? Should I bring something on our next walk out there to add to this altar of toys?” Any inquiring minds out there have a suggestion?

Huckleberries

Poet’s Corner: “The door of life/ revolves about;/ she’s coming in,/ I’m headed out” – Tom Wobker, The Bard of Sherman Avenue (“New Grandchild”) … Bumpersnicker (on an older black Honda parked at Coeur d’Alene’s Home Depot on Wednesday): “My kids will not fix your computer” … Pecky Cox, the online town crier of Priest Lake, never ever shares the name of her perfume with one exception. She has no problem telling others what she’s now wearing: Off! by Johnson & Johnson … Then, there’s the pollen. Facebooks Jamie Sedlmayer of Coeur d’Alene earlier this week: “This pollen in North Idaho right now feels like it is killing me! Worst allergies ever. My lips even itch” … The reason to celebrate on Thursday, according to Christmas by the Lake in downtown Coeur d’Alene? It was Oscar the Grouch’s birthday.

Parting shot

Huckleberries has discussed “Walkabout” before. She’s a Coeur d’Alene woman who daily picks up litter and dog feces from Tubbs Hill and along the Coeur d’Alene waterfront. Walkabout walks the talk. And her unpretentious walk has spread to Southern California. In a recent sermon, Pastor Josh Harrison of California megachurch Rock Harbor of Costa Mesa (and a Huckleberries Online reader) mentioned Walkabout’s daily service to her community as a challenge to those in his congregation. Walkabout, he said, is the example of someone who does something to change her world, rather than simply rely on City Hall or like-minded politicians. The sermon our Huckleberry Friend Walkabout preaches with her life should inspire all of us to do better.

D.F. “Dave” Oliveria can be reached at (509) 319-0354 or daveo@spokesman.com.