I have always thought of stores as celebrities, and their owners as the lead actors in fascinating plays. We don’t really know these people whom we see so peripherally, yet they overlap our lives in such important ways.

The deli where we munched on hot dogs after school … the record shop where we bought the song they played at our wedding … the hardware store with an eye-popping array of tools behind the counter … the video store with an endless supply of 1940s movies … the gift shop … the pictures framer … the hairdresser … the odds and ends emporium selling ribbons, wrapping paper, and party balloons.

Every merchant and every store stakes out a small section of memory where, over the years, bits and pieces of comings and goings make up bits and pieces of our soul.

It was at the jewelry shop owned by Mr. – what was his name? – that you bought the locket for your sister’s sixteenth birthday. He was so patient as he displayed one necklace after another until finally, almost an hour later, you exclaimed, “That’s it. That’s the one!”

A gentle Vietnamese couple – rumor had it that they were Boat People – owned the pet store where you bought the yellow canary who sang so sweetly until your Dad decided to give him a bath ... in the kitchen sink!