I looked around my room and decided that I don’t, in fact, like old books, apart from  those with sentimental value like my early twentieth century editions of Moby Dick,  Jane Eyre, Les Miserables, and Don Quixote that I got from my grandma.  I don’t like mildew or crumbly pages.  I prefer eau de new book and beautifully designed cover art (eg: Ruben Toledo).  It’s time to weed my shelves.