My new favorite place is a used bookstore. They have aisles of used books, vinyl records, old posters, and CDs. From medieval history textbooks to marketing tactics, you can find anything. I came home with eight books, with a total cost of $23. I can't wait to go back. As I laid the books out one by one, it felt like there was something special about them. Someone else owned them and read them. Somehow, this made me happier than buying brand new books. The sun shined on their dusty covers and, I flipped through their fragile pages. It feels like books beautify with time. They age gracefully, like fine wine. Maybe people should look at aging as a transformation process instead of a decaying phase. Like books, people aren't worthless because they've been here longer. It's just a perspective shift. When you buy something new, you can appreciate its pureness. The fresh car smell. The crisp pages and sturdy spines. But when you buy something old, you can enjoy the worn feel. The pages have a yellow tint and a frail body and contain a uniqueness that one cannot buy. It has to age on its own time. So I think the shift from new to old has to take place in our minds.