Dispatches from a Public Librarian
By Scott Douglas
©
2010
Table of Contents:
Other Library Ramblings
Is Illiterarcy So Bad? (Alternate Version)
Nicholson Baker Is a Big Fat Idiot
Things That Pop Into My Head While Bored At the Reference Desk
All dispatches previously appeared in
“Dispatches from a Public Librarian” on McSweeney.net. “Is Illiteracy So Bad?”
appeared in The Morning News. “Suspect”
appeared previously as “Working in the Library can be Strange” in the O.C.
Register. All other pieces have either never appeared or appeared on my blog
“Speak Quietly” (speakquietly.blogspot.com).
If you enjoy this free book, please also consider buying my memoir of library life: “Quiet, Please: Dispatches from a Public Librarian” (Da Capo Book, 2008), which is available as both an eBook and physical book.
For some five years I have worked for a smallish public library nestled cozily between Disneyland and Knott's Berry Farm in Orange County, California. This is where most of the observations in this dispatch will take place, although sometimes I do go to other libraries (some even far, far away), and I'll include those observations as they come.
I came into the library scene about eight years ago. I began as a student assistant at a college library in Fullerton. After receiving my bachelor's degree, I was bored, confused, and didn't want to get off my parents' insurance plan, so I enrolled in the Library Science and Information Technology program at San Jose State.
I will update this dispatch on a sometimes-regular basis, and will include stories about strange patrons, strange tales, and otherwise just strange things. The names and description of the patrons are purposely left out, so as to protect their privacy (libraries are real sticklers for this privacy stuff, which is why many have been in a tiff about the Patriot Act, but don't get me started).
Lost & Found
Toy cell phone
Anime DVD case (no disc)
Immigration papers
Photocopy of an income-tax statement
Child's wallet, including two Mickey Dollars from Disneyland
Stuffed teddy bear
Floppy disc
Ink pen from CarCo.
Kids
and Porn
The most popular website this
week for kids 8-14 is the borderline-pornographic site Newgrounds.com.
Newgrounds features a splendid assortment of innocent kids games mixed together
with adult-oriented games. It is full of nudity, crude sexuality, drug
references, violence, and swearing. One favorite, for girls surprisingly, is
the dress-up Britney Spears game, which so happens to feature a Britney without
any underwear on. The content of the site seems geared at high-school-aged
kids, but 95 percent of the kids that I caught looking at the site were still
in elementary school. The library has decided to ban Newgrounds, and library
Internet filters prevent kids from accessing it further. Curious about how they
found the site, I asked some of the kids; their responses varied, but by and
large it was from web banners on non-adult websites that had either chat rooms
or cheat codes for game systems (e.g., PS2, Xbox, and Game Cube).
Patron of the Week
Reflecting on who my favorite patron is on any given week is
difficult—there are so many. My favorite patron this week would have to be the
one who tried to take my shoes. The patron was a mentally challenged man who
was visiting the library as part of his rehabilitation. He came up to me while
I was in the juvenile-fiction area and asked if I would be his friend. I
politely nodded and said that I would be his friend. He then asked if he might
have my shoes. I told him, as gently as possible, that I needed to keep them.
He nodded, and asked if I was still his friend. I said yes, and he asked if he
could feel my shoes. Seeing no harm in this, I told him he could feel one, but
he had to do it quickly. He nodded, bent down, and proceeded to lift up my foot
and pull off my shoe. A little panicked, I told him that shoes had to stay on
in the library. He knew by my tone that he had done something he should not
have. He began saying he was sorry over and over again. I told him it was okay.
He asked if we could still be friends. I said yes and he left. The next day he
came into the library looking for me while I was taking a break. He asked the
librarian at the reference desk if the priest was there, and then went on to
describe the priest as me.
Book
Drop
The strangest item found in the
book drop was the head of a blond plastic doll wrapped in pink tissue paper.
Patron of the Week
It always surprises people to know that patrons frequently verbally, and
sometimes physically, assault librarians. This week's memorable patron was the
man who said he'd be waiting for me after work. The man came in on a Saturday
to use the Internet. He was middle-aged, tired, but seemingly friendly at
first. I assigned him a computer on the other side of the library. Saturdays
are usually slow and quiet at the library where I work, and usually I pass time
by studying the palm of my hand from different angles. Things got a little
loud, however, when the man I had assigned to the Internet began yelling into
his cell phone (as a side note, if anyone has ever been asked to turn their
cell phone off in the library, it is because many people, while normally quiet
in regular conversation, get quite loud when on the phone). I approached the
man and I explained that it was library policy that cell phones remain off in
the library, and if he wanted to continue his conversation, he'd have to use
the phone outside. The man, clearly upset that I had so rudely interrupted his phone
call, explained that he was talking with an important Sprint PCS customer
service agent regarding his most recent billing statement, and that he needed
the Internet to access his bill. Before I could respond, the man turned and
went back to his phone conversation, explaining to the costumer service agent
that he was sorry but an "idiot librarian" had tried to end his call.
No librarian likes to have his or her authority as librarian undermined. It's
not a power issue, rather a simple fact that policy has been disturbed and you
don't mess with library policy and get away with it. Nonetheless, I was in a
good mood, so I walked around the man (so as to face him), and I asked him if
he'd consider talking in a quiet-like fashion and finishing the call quickly.
He said he'd finish the call when he was done talking and not a minute sooner.
I turned off his computer and asked him to leave; and that's when he stood (and
also when I realized he was quite tall) and screamed, "you want to see
loud" in a fashion that made everyone in the library turn around and look
at the man a little frightened. I didn't think he meant it as a question, so I
decided not to answer him, which only made him louder as he asked, "Who do
you think you are?" I knew at this point that the situation was quickly
getting complicated, and to make matters worse the man really did not have very
good breath. I told the man he was being disruptive and he needed to leave the
library. I knew he wasn't going to go out without further fuss, but I still hoped.
I returned to the reference desk, and the man of course followed. He asked for
my name, and when I gave it, he said he was going to go see the mayor and have
my job. He started to leave, but turned back around after only a few steps, and
said he would be waiting for me after work and I was going to be sorry.
Finally, he left, at which point one of the library volunteers (a high school
kid) approached me and said, "that was awesome, I thought he was going to
jack you up right in the library!" Later that day I received a call from
another librarian at the city's main library asking if I had had any problems
that day with a patron. I said yes, and asked the librarian why. He said the
man had come into the main library and filed a complaint against me. I asked if
he mentioned coming back after I got off work to beat me up. He had forgotten
to mention that. After work, I approached the parking lot with a bit of
caution, but the man was not there, nor have I seen him since that Saturday.
Book
Drop
The strangest item in the book drop this week was an unlit firecracker. Patrons
putting firecrackers in the library overnight book drop does not happen as
often as some people imagine. This is only the second time I've seen one
(although it was the first time I had seen one unlit). The first one destroyed
seven books and damaged over a dozen others.
Dispatch 3, Special Movie Edition (2/03/04)
As the film-award season begins its winter blossom, it seems appropriate to include a special movie pullout edition of this dispatch. Enjoy...
Books to Movies
Every winter, summer, spring, and... well, basically every month... it happens.
A movie comes out that everyone thinks is good and that movie happens to be
based on a book. As it turns out, Hollywood is big business for libraries
because they increase the circulation of books that have been otherwise
collecting dust for some time. This holiday/Oscar season has released a swarm of
movies based on books, which has been a true blessing for some books, and did
nothing for others. With the exception of The Return of the King and The Cat in the Hat, it has been months (in some cases years) since
the books have been checked out. Here is how the books made into movies are
faring this winter.
The Return of the King by J.
R. R. Tolkien
4 - Available
3 - Missing
1 - Lost
7 - Checked out
Master and Commander by
Patrick O¹Brian
3 - Checked out
0 - Available
Cold Mountain by Charles
Frazier
1 - Available
Cheaper by the Dozen by Frank
B. Gilbreth and Ernestine Gilbreth Carey
1 - Missing
House of Sand and Fog by
Andre Dubus III
1 - Available
1 - Check out
Big Fish by Daniel
Wallace
1 - Available
Paycheck: And Other Classic Stories by
Philip K. Dick (also in The Short
Happy Life of the Brown Oxford)
1 - On order
The Cat in the Hat (English)
by Dr. Seuss
8 - Checked out
2 - Available
1 - Lost
1 - Missing
The Cat in the Hat (Spanish)
by Dr. Seuss
8 - Checked out
1 - Available
1 - Lost
Mystic River by Dennis
Lehane
2 - Available
Timeline by Michael
Crichton
1 - Available
1 - Check out
Notable Librarians in Sometimes
Notable Films:
*Sylvia Marpole, An Extremely
Goofy Movie (voiced by Bebe Neuwirth)
*Marian Paroo, The Music Man [1962]
(played by Shirley Jones)
*Lynn Wells, Major League (played
by Rene Russo)
*Librarian, Billy Elliot (played
by Carol McGuigan)
*Angela Benedict, Seven Faces of Dr.
Lao (played by Barbara Eden)
*Sara Waters/Laura Burney, Sleeping
with the Enemy(played by Julia Roberts)
*Children's Librarian, A Tree Grows
in Brooklyn(played by Lillian Bronson)
Notable
Library Scenes in Sometimes Notable Films:
*The Breakfast Club—most of the movie takes place in a school
library of sorts.
*A Beautiful Mind—several scenes are
shot at the Princeton University library.
*Finding Forrester—The New York
Public Library is featured in one scene.
*Forever Young—One of the scenes
takes place in the California Public Library in Inglewood.
Number of Oscar Best Picture—Nominated
Films That Were Once Books: A Five-Year History
2002—4/5
2001—2/5
2000—2/5
1999—2/5
1998—1/5
Lost
& Found
Eminem [The Eminem Show, edited version], scratched CD (no case)
Pacifier
Pink plastic sandal, left foot (toddler-size)
Black cotton sweater
Floppy disc
JanSport backpack (empty)
Worn out copy of The Client by
John Grisham with the inscription: ³Happy 19th birthday! Love, Grandma and
Grandpa, 1999²
Library Books Most Likely to Go MIA or
AWOL Last Year:
GED Study Guide, by Various Authors
On the Road, by Jack Kerouac
Night, by Elie Wiesel
The Red Badge of Courage (Cliffs
Notes) , by Patrick J. Salerno
Why Do Bad Things Happen to Good
People? , by Melvin Tinker
Two Badges: The Lives of Mona Ruiz,
by Mona Ruiz and Geoff Boucher
Tax
Day
Number of patrons on April 16
who asked, "When is the last day to file my 2003 tax return?": 5
Number of patrons on April 17 who asked, "When is the last day to file my 2003 tax return?": 1
Lost & Found
Blue gym shorts
One toddler shoe (right foot)
Handwritten poem (untitled)
Black wallet (no cash or identification)
Rate
Me
This week the apparent "it" site for kids is ratingpictures.com. This
is a curious site that teaches kids how to be shallow. Visitors to the site
rate pictures of people based on what they look like. The scale is a one-to-ten
format with one being the ugliest and ten being the prettiest. When asked why
they spend hours at this site, the most common response was "It's
fun." The average age of kids viewing the site was fifth to eighth grade.
None of the kids suspected that the pictures were of real, actual people; to
them the people were fake, and therefore had no feelings.
Series Books
Total number of available copies of books in the series:
Harry Potter series: 87 (hardback and paperback)
Left Behind for Kids series: 34 (paperback)
Captain Underpants series: 51 (hardback and paperback)
Baby-sitters Club series: 78 (paperback)
Series of Unfortunate Events series: 26 (hardback)
Star Wars series: 43 (paperback)
Magic Tree House series: 69 (hardback and paperback)
Goosebumps series: 19 (paperback)
Mary Kate & Ashley series: 37 (paperback)
It's not incredibly strange to have an
odd thing happen with a patron in the restroom, but to have two in a
week...that kind of thing's worthy of an entire dispatch devoted to the
bathroom.
Patron
One
On Saturday, I was minding my
own business when a library clerk came to me and said there were complaints
about a patron sleeping in the restroom. "Sleeping in the restroom?"
I questioned, believing that somewhere in this short statement there had surely
been a misunderstanding. "Sleeping in the restroom," he assured me. I
hate being informed of such things, because this means I have to do something
about it. I could handle the time I had to tell a man he needed to pull his
pants up a little higher because he was exposing himself in such a way that it
was offensive to patrons; I could handle telling patrons that they're not
allowed to look for pornography on the library computers; I can even keep a
straight face when someone asks if we have The Complete Idiot's Guide to Sex. But sleeping in the
restroom—there was something sacred about the restroom that I hated to disturb.
I approached the restroom with a bit of weary caution. Man #1 was using the
urinal; Man #2 was sleeping on the floor of stall one (our only stall) with his
head resting against the toilet. I left the restroom and told the clerk that,
yes, there was indeed a man sleeping on the restroom floor. I knew what his
follow-up question would be: "What should we do?" I shrugged, waited
for Man #1 to leave the restroom, then entered the restroom once more and said,
"Sir, are you okay?" It had not escaped me that Man #2 might have had
some sort of freak restroom accident and was thus unconscious. "Yes,"
was Man #2's reply. I was really hoping he was unconscious and there was thus a
reason for his odd behavior that was justifiable. Instead I had to reason that
Man #2 was just plain nutty, and I hated having to reason such thoughts about
patrons. I thought quickly for what I could say. "You're not allowed to
sleep in the restroom." There was nothing original about this, but it was
fast thinking. "Okay," Man #2 said. I had expected some resistance
and when none came a part of me was a little disappointed. I left the restroom
with that feeling of accomplishment you get when you kick a man out of the
restroom for sleeping on the floor, then ran to the front of the library to get
a good view of the man when he left the library (he had been behind the stall
with the door shut and I could only make out his backside). When Man #2 left, I
was surprised to see that this was a regular patron, granted one that was
sometimes a little off, but not exactly the type of person I'd take for
sleeping on restroom floors.
Patron Two
Patron number two is the man who sang romantic Spanish tunes in the
restroom. He came on an otherwise normal Thursday evening about an hour before
closing. I was sitting at the information desk looking intently at a blank
computer screen when a library page came to me and said, "There's a man in
the bathroom who's been in there a really long time." I shrugged and
thought to myself that it was a little weird for the library page to be keeping
track of how long patrons used the restroom. I said the patron was probably
just having a rough go at it, and to let me know if he was still there in
thirty minutes. The page nodded and continued, "That's not all. He's
singing in Spanish. He keeps flushing the toilet and then singing a new song
every time he flushes it. He's flushed the toilet at least ten times since he
went in." I asked what songs he was singing. I don't know why I asked what
he was singing; I don't think I would have treated the situation differently if
he were singing disco or grunge. I suppose I was just curious. The page said he
didn't know because they were in Spanish, but they sounded romantic. I nodded
and told the page to follow me to the bathroom (it's always a good idea to
approach a strange situation in the library with another person who can act as
a witness should anything happen that requires police attention). I stood with
the page at the restroom door for several minutes listening to the man sing in
Spanish. He had a nice voice, although he sang high notes a little off key.
"What are you going to do?" the page finally asked me. I shrugged. I
was preparing the encounter with the singing restroom man in my head; first I'd
ask if everything was okay, then I'd tell him to wrap it up because we were
closing the restroom in five minutes. I hated restroom encounters with
patrons—there was no way to make them less awkward. I started for the restroom
door, but it opened before I went in. A tall Spanish man with a large sombrero
on his head exited. He was wearing a Disneyland T-shirt and faded jeans, and he
carried a ceramic cactus (the ones street vendors sell for haggled prices in
Tijuana). "Everything okay?" The man smiled and nodded,
"Sí." Then he left the library.
Odd
Things Found in the Restroom Sink
Toothpaste
Half-eaten Snickers bar
Shoelace
Toothpick
Shaving cream
Prom picture
Bundles of hair
Dispatch 7: Summer Movie Edition
Unlike the holiday season, when studios are eager to release movies with somewhat decent plots copied from sometimes decent books, summer movies tend to get their ideas from other movies. There will be, of course, some that come from books, but this does not do a lot for the books' circulation. Here's a rundown of how this summer's books-into- movies are faring as the summer box offices open for business.
A Slipping-Down Life by Anne
Tyler
1 - Available
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of
Azkaban (English) by J. K. Rowling
5 - Available
10 - Checked out
4 - Missing
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of
Azkaban (Spanish) by J. K. Rowling
3 - Available
1 - Checked out
The Stepford Wives by Ira
Levin
Not Available
Around the World in Eighty Days by
Jules Verne
1 - Available
1 - Missing
A Widow for One Year by John
Irving (inspired the filmThe Door in the
Floor)
1 - Available
The Notebook by Nicholas
Sparks
2 - Available
1 - Missing
I, Robot by Isaac
Asimov
5 - Available
1 - Checked out
The Bourne Supremacy by
Robert Ludlum
1 - Checked out
A Home at the End of the World by
Michael Cunningham
Not Available
Princess in the Spotlight by
Meg Cabot (inspired the film The
Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement)
2 - Available
3 - Checked out
Vanity Fair by William
Makepeace Thackeray
1 - Available
Notable Librarians in Sometimes
Notable Films:
Betty Lou, The Gun in Betty
Lou's Handbag (played by Penelope Ann Miller)
Bertha Anderson, Citizen Kane (played
by Georgia Backus)
John Lewis, Only Two Can Play (played
by Peter Sellers)
Alicia Hull, Storm Center (played
by Bette Davis)
Lily, Lily of the Dust (played
by Pola Negri)
Notable Library Scenes in Sometimes
Notable Films:
Ghostbusters—New York Public Library is featured
Breakfast at Tiffany's
Philadelphia—Furness Building at the
University of Pennsylvania is featured
Dispatch 8: Three Tales of the Internet
Tale #1: In Which an Elderly Patron Unintentionally Tries to Destroy a Computer
Elderly patrons are very sweet people who very frequently bring me food, tell me how much they appreciate the library’s presence in the neighborhood, and small-talk about their favorite mysteries and true-crime books. They’re pleasant to be around—unless they want to use a computer. I am convinced that grandkids are inherently evil people who tell their grandparents to “just go to the library and open up an e-mail account—it’s free and so simple.”
Of course, the free part gets them to the library in swarms, and, of course, they don’t want to take part in the library’s free Internet classes, because ... well, in the words of one elderly patron, “I don’t need a class, because my grandkid said it was simple, and you can just show me the basics.” One such elderly patron came to the library not too long ago with such ideals. Strangely, his trouble was not so much opening an e-mail account as it was using the print card.
Print cards are pesky little things librarians institute for the sake of harassing patrons and discouraging them from printing anything. Often, it works, but this little old man was persistent. I showed him step by step what to do to print, and he was doing pretty well. He seemed to be paying careful attention: he hit the print button like a pro, walked to the print station like a king. Then he screwed up—big time. At the print station, another patron told me some teenagers had just said the “f” word to her five-year-old son and then ran off to the boys’ room, where she was pretty sure they were up to no good. I told the elderly gentleman to hang tight and I’d be right back to help him.
I learned in just a short time that expecting him to hang tight was a mistake. When I returned to the man, he looked hopelessly confused. “It didn’t work,” he explained, frustrated. “And it won’t give me my print card back.” I walked to the print station and stared for several seconds at the card reader. I studied it from several angles but did not see his card. “You’re sure it didn’t come out?” I asked. He nodded, but then pointed at his computer. “It’s in there.”
I looked at the computer, confused. He pointed at the floppy-disk drive and said, “I tried pushing the button, but it still won’t come out.” I kneeled down and immediately saw the print card wedged deep inside the floppy-disk drive. I had seen paper clips, scrap paper, and pencils inside the floppy-disk drive, but this was the first print card.
I went to the workroom to get out some tweezers, and when I returned, the man was gone. I never saw him again.
Tale #2: In Which a Patron Decides to Record the Internet
Because I work in a small branch library with only a dozen or so Internet terminals (all of which are very close to where I sit), it has become a habit to do my best to ignore what patrons are viewing, so as to ensure their privacy. Last week, however, I noticed a woman sit down at a computer and pull from her small handbag a video camera. She logged in to her e-mail account, turned on her recorder, and proceeded to record messages that had been sent to her inbox. Using a video camera in a city building without prior consent from the city is not allowed, but I let her do it for a few minutes, more for the sake of personal amusement and curiosity than anything else. Finally, after about five minutes, I became bored watching the woman, so I approached her and explained that she would have to get city approval if she wanted to use her video camera in the library. She rolled her eyes and said, “Well, I was finished anyway.” She stuffed her camera back into her bag, looked suspiciously around, and left in a hurry.
Tale #3: In Which a Patron Has a Little Too Much Fun
There are different types of Internet users who visit the library. There’s the casual user, who uses the library’s Internet service perhaps once a month; the regular user, who uses it every day; the college user, who comes to the library only when their school’s lab is full; and many other types, which I’ll leave out for no real reason.
This final tale involves what I would describe as a regular user. I rarely saw him doing anything on the computer except sending and reading e-mail. He was quiet and never asked for help on the Internet. Then one day, as I was helping a younger patron find a book for his state-report assignment, the man came to me seeking help with printing.
When I got to his computer, I saw a picture of an overweight, fully nude Caucasian woman holding a jar of peanut butter. I told the man that this kind of material went against the library’s Internet usage policy. I have had to explain this policy to several patrons who have used the Internet terminals to view pornographic images, and every time, the patron does one of three things: they act embarrassed and apologize for their actions, they nod and quickly leave, or they try to defend their actions by saying that they are a taxpayer and can look at whatever they want to on the computer.
This man, however, explained quite seriously that, “I didn’t know you weren’t allowed to look at pornography on the Internet.” I nodded and pointed at the large sign above the computers, which stated clearly the library’s stance on this issue.
The man nodded and asked if he could still print the picture. I said no and added that, because he’d abused the library’s policy (a major no-no), he would now be banned from using the Internet. He nodded; then, to my surprise, flipped over a computer printout of a nude woman; and left with no further comment.
I did not bother asking how he was able to print the other picture without help.
Lost & Found
Butterfinger candy bar (unopened)
Bottled water
Goodnight Moon board book
3 pencils
Plastic wallet with Mickey ears
Patron
of the Week
Walter Scott's weekly
"Personality Parade" in the "Parade" section of the Sunday
paper always reminds me of the library, mainly because it almost always has
someone who starts out their question with something along the lines of "Please
settle a bet." It's amazing how many information-seeking phone calls
libraries receive that start in such a way, and I always enjoy answering them,
because it gives me pleasure knowing that someone somewhere has made a quick
buck off something I said. Last week, I received such a call from an elderly
woman wanting me to settle a bet between her and her son. She wanted to know
what countries in Europe the Great Wall of China went through and what was the
year Reagan tore it down. When I explained that the Great Wall of China was
still mostly intact and that she probably meant the Berlin Wall, she replied
coolly, "No, hon, you see, the Berlin Wall is just the part of the wall
that goes through Berlin." I put on my best geography-teacher hat to try
and explain the Great Wall of China was, in fact, exclusively in Asia. She
replied, "I'm pretty sure you're wrong. What would be so great about
tearing down a wall in Germany? It's not even that big of a country."
Book Drop
This week someone decided to put all their creative powers to work by
dumping dirt into the library's overnight book drop.
Librarian
Confessions
When I tell patrons to lower their voice
in the library, I like to say it in a loud voice.
I tell patrons the library is closing in
five minutes even though it's closing in ten minutes, just to make them think
it's closing so they'll check out their books.
Sometimes I tell parents that their
child's library card is showing a fine of $57.20 when it is actually showing a
fine of 20 cents. After their eyes widen, I tell them I was just kidding.
I like to make up stories about people
who work at the library. One day, for instance, two young boys were looking for
books on wrestlers; I pointed to the man shelving books and said they should
talk to him because he is a former pro wrestler. They spent 10 minutes asking
him about various wrestlers he had beaten, even though he repeatedly denied
that he was a pro wrestler.
When a patron asks what we do with the
money we collect from fines, I tell them it's a Christmas slush fund and at the
end of the year we buy each other presents.
When a kid asks for the fourth Harry
Potter book, I tend to say, "Is that the one where Harry dies? Oh wait,
no, that's in the fifth one—my bad."
When the fifth Harry Potter book arrived
at the library before it was scheduled to be released to the public, I opened
it up and read the first sentence just because I knew I wasn't supposed to.
I am frequently nicer to female patrons
than to male patrons.
Sometimes I act like I don't know very
much about computers just so I won't have to help a patron on the computer.
When a kid comes to the reference desk
and asks, "Where are the books on dinosaurs?," I frequently will
point very broadly at the rows of bookshelves and say, "Over there."
In the break room, I frequently complain
to other workers about patrons who smell funny.
An
Interview With Josh, Who Is a Library Page, and Whose Name Has Been Changed
What
size shoe do you wear?
11½.
What's
the best kind of shelving shoe?
Vans.
What
technique do you use to secretly read a book while you're supposed to be
shelving?
There's a section in Juvenile Fiction—JF-L to JF-Z that cannot be seen by the
senior clerk unless she is wandering around the library. I get in a
squatting-type position in this area and position the book truck in front of me
in such a way that it sort of looks like I'm sorting books on the bottom of the
truck and not reading.
Do
you remember those two Russian girls that came in that one summer and all the
guys were trying to figure out ways to hit on them when they didn't know
English?
Yes.
If
there were a biopic made detailing your life as a page, who would you want to
play the role of you?
I think Adam Sandler would do me justice, but only if it were a drama—his
comedic ability is at times lacking.
What's
your favorite area to shelve? Why?
Depends on my mood. I like videos and paperbacks, because they can be shelved
quickly, and bringing back trucks quickly makes the clerks think I'm
productive. If I'm reading what I shelve, then I like the 900 section; I know
more about history from shelving in this section than from all the classes I've
taken in college.
What's
your least favorite area to shelve? Why?
398s. They're never in order, and it's hard to read the call numbers, because
the spine is usually narrow.
What
are the most common questions you're asked while shelving?
Mostly where the bathroom is and what time does the library close.
What's
the best way to put books in order? Dewey or LOC? Why?
Dewey. I don't know why.
On
average, how many book trucks do you shelve in one hour?
If I'm not careful about making sure the books are in order—about 3. If I'm
taking my time, then 1.5.
Are
you jealous or competitive with other pages?
Only when we're working on the same shift. I try to shelve more than everyone
else.
If
you could be any book, what one would you be? Why?
Probably one of those paperback romances. Lonely, desperate women are always
checking them out—it would make me feel hot and wanted.
What
do you think about the library's checkout policy?
It's OK.
Waking
the Dead
I've heard awkward stories about
people who've seen their patrons in an uncomfortable setting. It's never
happened to me until quite recently. I was at a funeral. Can you see the
writing on the wall? No? Let me elaborate just a bit more. The church where the
funeral was being held was only a few blocks from the library I worked at. The
church's elementary school had visited the library a handful of times, and I
was usually the one that read them stories. After the funeral, as I walked
through the parking lot with other mourners, I heard a kid yell from the
playground on the opposite side of the parking lot: "Hey, it's the library
guy." I've always wondered what it would be like to be a celebrity and not
be able to go anywhere without someone shouting your name; I sort of felt like
a celebrity at the funeral, and now I know how it feels ... awkward—incredibly
awkward. I looked at the handful of kids who had gathered together after they
heard the child's announcement; they stared at me with curious eyes, and seemed
excited that I had stumbled onto their territory. I smiled, waved, and then
bowed my head and pretended to be mournful. I hoped the wave would have been
mighty enough to silence them. It wasn't. Another child yelled across the
parking lot: "What are you doing here, anyway?" I looked around
hoping by chance no one else had noticed the scene. Unfortunately, people had.
I wasn't about to yell out to the kids, "I'm at a funeral," so I
pretended I hadn't heard them and walked quickly to my car.
Lost & Found
Virgin Mobile cell phone (with a sticker picture of a boy who looks
curiously similar to the "Mikey Likes It" boy)
Transparent green diskette
Old Navy sweater
Right-footed flip-flop
DVD: Day After Tomorrow (no case)
Tattered copy of Junie B. Jones Is a Graduation Girl
Children's Pokemon wallet (no cash) with ticket stub forThe Incredibles from the AMC 30 @ The Block of Orange
The
Bus Stop Is Near, No?
Working near Disneyland, I see a lot of
people walk into the library from out of town—people visiting the city for the
conventions, amusement parks, or (though they certainly won't admit it) the
motels with ... hourly rates. Most of these patrons never come in long enough
for me to remember their name, but there are exceptions. One such exception was
Zelenka, a homely Czechoslovakian, and Veronica, her drop-dead-gorgeous (also
Czechoslovakian) friend, who were both working for a hotel for the summer.
Veronica never once came into the
library unnoticed; whenever she entered the building, it was like seeing a
model do her thing on the fashion runway, putting on a little show for every
person in the library (male, female, and even small children). It was fun
watching all the desperate old men (who normally were occupied in Internet chat
rooms and posting personal ads on dating sites), trying their best to
communicate with the Czechoslovakian vixen, who knew little English and really
just wanted to check her e-mail. There were even one or two requests for books
on learning the Czechoslovakian language. Library pages, in their own attempts
to get to know the wondrous lady better, would accidentally tap their book cart
against the back of her chair, then apologize and engage in small talk, not
seeming to notice that she probably understood only 10 percent at best of what
they were saying. Sometimes the pages would say something she understood, and
she would smile and joyfully repeat whatever word she had picked up: "Ah,
yes, pancake!" Then,
believing they had established a common connection, they would use the word in
every sentence that followed.
I, of course, kept it professional (a
hazard of the job being that all librarians must pretend to be boring while
working ... except children's librarians, who, I'm pretty sure, take pills to
maintain their abnormal amount of energy and perkiness). I felt a little sorry
for Zelenka, who got no attention, but it was her own fault for this—there was
no dazzle in her step or charm in her smile, and she had a horrid sense for
fashion; to be quite honest her name only comes to mind when thinking of
Veronica, but that' s beside the point. As their stay progressed and it became
certain that they would soon leave for their homeland, the pages made mad
attempts to have just one date.
Ultimately, however, it was I—the
librarian—who had the last waltz ... though not literally, of course. The
library was closing one night and Veronica was the sole patron in the building;
I had not seen her companion Zelenka all day. As best as I could tell, she was
supposed to have a ride home, but something happened; how anyone could have
left such a beauty abandoned at a library in the night is beyond me, but they
did, and I knew it would be up to me to protect the damsel in distress from the
dangers of Southern California. I used gestures and slow speech to try to tell
her that if she stayed outside the library alone she would surely die and that
she should let me give her a ride home. And she did. I tried to make her feel
safe as we drove; I told her about my country and asked her about hers—it was
the same corny small talk I observed patrons using on her in the library. The
same corny small talk that she never seemed to understand. She smiled mostly
and stared at me confused. Once, she said, "I am Veronica," and another
time, "The bus stop is near, no?" but mostly she smiled and said yes
to things that didn't exactly warrant an answer. Before taking her home, I had
never had any sort of conversation with her; the only thing I'd ever asked her
was "How are you today?" and "Would you like to use the
Internet?" Now that I had her in my car, and I was asking her less generic
questions, she seemed less attractive. Seeing her stare at me confused, as I
did my best to make her feel comfortable, made her seem a little ... dumb. I
realize this feeling was caused mostly by the language barrier, but
nonetheless, I couldn't help but feel as though I'd violated something a little
sacred, and had stolen forever that beauty she had once given to me. She was
like a store mannequin meant to be adorned but never touched.
When I pulled into the parking space in
front of her motel room, I thought of all of the pages and patrons who had
dreamed of such a moment—to be here, in front of her room, in the right seat to
make a move. They probably would have had pickup lines that she would not have
understood, or perhaps tried to charm her with their looks or incoherent
ramblings that passed as humor in English, but there was only one thing I had
in mind to say to her. I told her good night. She told me, "I go. The bus
stop is near, no?" and then she waved and ran to her room. From that
moment on, I did not view her with the same admiration that I had when she
first came into the library; all I saw when she came into the building was the
friendly woman who had said "I am Veronica" when I asked her,
"Do you like California?" I learned an important lesson with
Veronica: I realized that some patrons were special, and should never be
touched; they were given to the library to be mysterious figures who walked
through the doors and were never meant to be known; people who were meant to be
recounted through the ages in breakrooms as legends and myths of the library.
Reflections
on the TNT Original Movie The Librarian: Quest for the Spear Starring
That Guy From ER
When the ALA sends out an e-mail request
to librarians to share their thoughts on a movie, you know it's a big deal. I'm
not a film critic, so I'm not going to get in your face Ebert-and-Roeper-style;
instead, I'll opt to explain this movie from a librarian's POV:
First off, let me say that there was one
thing this movie hit dead on—what librarians do. The ER guy's actual job description is "the librarian."
Throughout the movie, all he does is wander around a basement full of
mythological artifacts. But why does the librarian do what he does? Is he
supposed to be running around the world trying to protect these artifacts? His
job is never really explained, and it's here that there is a similarity between
the movie librarian and the real librarian. Do you really know what a real
librarian does? I mean do you really think we sit around and order books for
eight hours a day? Think about it.
Second, the ER guy received a mysterious magical card asking him to
interview for the job of librarian. A lot of people probably were wondering
about this, so let me explain. This is not the normal procedure for
interviewing as a librarian. Usually one finds out about librarian jobs through
Internet sites such as lisjobs.com, e-mails, librarian message boards, or the
classified section in the newspaper. If you want to be a librarian, don't sit
around waiting to receive the magical letter—it's just not going to happen that
way.
Third, the movie presented a popular
cinematic librarian motif: nerdy librarian gets the beautiful girl. Guys, I
cannot stress this enough: Don't enter the library field expecting to get
beautiful women. It may happen, but it's probably not going to, because
remember, you're a librarian. There just aren't a lot of librarian groupies out
there—not beautiful ones, anyway.
Fourth, there was a line in the movie
that went something like this:
MALE: That's the librarian?
FEMALE: Don't underestimate him.
While the movie had several false
moments, this was not one of them. Don't ever mess with a librarian—we will
kill you, grind up your body, then create a cannibalism edition of Harry Potter that other librarians
will use to teach literacy to flesh-eating tribes in Papua New Guinea. I'm not
kidding about this.
Fifth, about 30 seconds into the film, I
started wondering whatever happened to that girl who liked the ER guy in the second season—did she
ever make any movies? About five minutes into the movie, I started thinking
about Dr. Green—sure was sad how they had to kill him off, but at least it was
tasteful (not like the way he died inTop
Gun). About 10 minutes into the movie, I started making up movies that
the ER guy could do with
George Clooney—I think they'd do good together, and it would probably help
the ER guy's career (enough
that I might actually start to remember what his name is). About 11 minutes
into the movie, I realized I really hadn't been paying very much attention to
the movie, and I promised myself I would try harder.
Finally, in the movie, Bob Newhart can
magically appear at a moment's notice. Few people know this (mostly just
librarians), but he actually can magically appear at a moment's notice. I can't
explain how he does this.
Corny
Library Pickup Lines, and How Librarians Effectively Shoot Them Down
Pardon me, could you please tell me what
kind of card I need to check you out?
Visa, MasterCard, or American Express.
You must have been burning books,
because you're looking hot.
My apologizes—the new Harry Potter is
coming out and I was in the back burning the Newbery winners to make room for
it.
Can you tell me where I can find books
on overcoming a deeply passionate love I have for a librarian?
636.45 MICH.
Libraries should allow food in the
building, because right now I could just eat you up.
Policy is policy, but if you'd really
like to change that, the appropriate forms are behind you—just drop it in the
suggestion box when you're done, and in due time it will be pulled out and set
in the loser pile.
I know what I need to access the
Internet, but what do I need to access your heart?
A life.
What book would you recommend to help me
sweep you off your feet?
How to Divorce a Jealous Mad Person.
Can you tell me how to spell love? I'm
writing a letter to you.
Do you mean the agape love, or the love
you have for someone you don't have a chance of ever getting?
Can you settle a bet? My friend says
librarians have no life, but I say they're wild beasts. Can I take you out to
dinner and prove my friend wrong?
Tell your friend he's right.
Jeffica
Giving nicknames to problem patrons is
one way to provide humor on the job. It also establishes handy covertlike
code-names for people should problems persist. I have nicknamed many patrons
over the years—the Red-Faced Man, Mumbles, the Mole, and Potty Mouth, just to
name a few. Recently, I developed a new nickname for a patron: Jeffica. Jeffica
has a long history with the library. About four years ago, there was a patron
named Jeff. He fit perfectly into the she-male category of the human species
(which is the category for a person whose appearance could easily be passed off
as either male or female; it was made popular by SNL's "It's Pat" skit). Jeff would come to the library
two or three times a week and spend hours at a table poring over books. He was
usually quiet but would occasionally harass librarians over things like having
only one book of poetry by John Donne. Then one day he stopped coming. I didn't
realize it immediately; it was several weeks until somebody said, "Say, I
haven't see that one guy in a while." After a brief discussion on who
"that one guy" was, I realized it was Jeff, and indeed it had been a
while. I didn't see Jeff for four years, but last week he started coming in
again. There are some patrons you never forget—Jeff is one of them. He had the
same routine: he would pore over books for hours at a time, and at one point he
complained to me that we didn't have a single book by Ben Jonson. Toward the
end of the week, he applied for a new library card because his old one had
expired due to lack of use. I was surprised when I read the application—under
"Name" he wrote "Jessica." It was odd; he had the chest of
Jeff, the voice of Jeff, even the same dress shoes that Jeff used to wear.
There was no mistaking it: Jeff was now Jessica.
Lost
& Found
Virgin cell phone with a Hello Kitty
sticker
Raincoat
Bottle of aspirin (3 extra-strength
pills left)
Wallet with Bart Simpson (empty except
for a fake driver's license from Disneyland's Autopia)
Toddler sandal (right foot)
Choose
Your Battles Wisely
Old-lady patrons add a unique flavor
(and smell) to the library. For the most part, they're either warm and fuzzy or
bitter and rude. Either way, it's fun to listen to their rambling theories
about life, happiness, and why everyone should read Dick Francis. Libraries,
however, wouldn't be quite right if there weren't at least one woman who was
loud, crude, and sometimes a little drunk. For me there is Ms. Haskell. I can
think of several older patrons I get a kick out of, but I knew Ms. Haskell was
special the first day I met her; she asked for the dictionary ... on audiotape.
Not an abridged version, or a "500 Power Words Everyone Should
Know"—not even a collegiate dictionary would do. She had it all scribbled
out on a stained napkin, which she proudly dangled in front of my eyes:
"OED Dictionary on audiotape." When I said no, we did not have that,
she said, "Well, compact disc will have to do then." That was my
first encounter with her, and all the encounters that followed were also about
audiotapes. One night, she came in loudly and spent 10 minutes at the
circulation desk telling a helpless library clerk what she thought of each of
the seven audio books she was returning. When the clerk explained that the
library was closed and she would have to leave, she turned toward the audio
books to make that night's selection. I saw where she was going and intercepted
her. "The library is closed, Ms. Haskell—you'll have to come back
tomorrow." She kept on coming, and said, "Out of my way, honey."
She then shoved me out of her way. "I'll be just a second," she said.
I think I was more surprised by her strength than the fact that she pushed me.
"Did she just push you?" a page quietly asked. "I think she
did," I admitted. "Dude, what are you going to do?" I didn't
reply. I stared at Ms. Haskell, who had made her selection. "See, honey,
that didn't take but a second." I could have forced her to come back and
check out the next day, but she would have argued that idea longer than I cared
to listen. In a public place like a library, you have to choose your battles
wisely. Plus, I was kind of afraid she might push me again and I'd have to fill
out an incident report saying a 70-year-old woman physically assaulted me.
Adventures
in MySpace
There's a stereotype about librarian
jobs that goes something along the lines of "all librarians ever do is sit
around all day and wait for someone to ask for a book." This is simply not
the case. For starters, most people don't even know how to read anymore, and
the few that do don't come to the library—they're obviously smart, and
therefore well off financially, and therefore go to Amazon.com to buy books,
which they in turn donate to the library, which the library sells at a book
sale, from which proceeds go to buy new computers.
Second of all, librarians do plenty:
they buy books, form committees to decide what sort of committees the library
needs, type up minutes for those committee meetings, complain about how people
can't read anymore and only use the library for free Internet access, burn
books to make room for the new Harry Potter (which I'm pretty sure most kids
only check out for the illustrations), and if all that isn't enough, librarians
also take breaks and lunches. Now occasionally librarians sit behind a desk
bored out their minds (but hiding it well), but never for more than seven hours
a day. Which brings me to MySpace.com.
MySpace was started a few years back in
the proud tradition of other social-networking sites like Friendster.com. My library
is full of high-school kids who think MySpace is the greatest thing since Razor
scooters—if you're on MySpace, then I'm sure you've run into one or two of
them. What does this have to do with my previous point? Well, I'll tell you if
you just pipe down. I started a MySpace account recently in an effort to cure
my boredom while sitting at the reference desk waiting for someone to ask me
where a book was. I figured if high-school kids had so much fun on it, then why
couldn't I? Plus, it's my duty as a librarian to be informed about what people
are doing at the library.
The first time I logged in to MySpace, I
saw a picture of guys kissing, a friend whose profile said she was gay, which
was news to me (at least now I know why she never would go out with me, which
is better than that "I don't like to leave my cats alone" excuse),
and an overweight girl with her legs ... actually I'd really rather not go into
what she was doing with her legs—it was actually pretty frightening. I saw many
other disturbing things, but I honestly can't say I saw anything very
interesting, and yet I stayed for a full hour reading profiles of people that
I, for the most part, had never met. I discovered in myself a voyeuristic
fetish I never knew I had.
If you are a bored librarian like me, or
just a bored person in general, then perhaps we can be friends; my user page is www.myspace.com/scottdouglas. If my profile says
that I'm online, then perhaps that even means I'm at work waiting for someone
to ask for a book. And if you have an odd or funny library story, or just like
libraries, then join groups.myspace.com/librarylovers.
Advice
to Future Librarians Entering Graduate School
Fall is here, which means a new batch of
young wannabe librarians will be starting graduate school in just a few days.
If you happen to be starting library school, then this dispatch is for you.
Avoid cataloging classes; they will be
pointless.
In papers that you write, cite papers
your professors have published.
Take an internship or practicum.
Ninety percent of what your teachers
teach you is theory that does you no good in the workplace; do your best to
forget it after you leave school.
Ask your teacher why a public library
uses the Dewey cataloging system as opposed to LOC, then doodle for the next
three hours while they explain it.
Buy a laptop and play FreeCell during
lectures.
Join ALA. It will make you feel
important.
Libraries don't do, librarians do.
Take online classes and have the cheap
thrill of going to classes in the buff.
Two weeks working in a library will give
you more experience than two years in graduate school.
Gain as much computer knowledge as
humanly possible—this will put you ahead of so many other librarians.
Letters to the editor do not count as
professional publications and will not impress the instructor.
I am sorry to say that you may find your
stay in graduate school to be not very stimulating and quite a yawn, but the
job that follows is quite the contrary.
If you ever want to vent your
frustrations or need moral support, then by all means e-mail me.
I think the first clue that the man was
going to be a problem was when he said to me, "I want to know who took my
generator—was it you?" This was actually the first thing he said to me. It
wasn't just what he said or even the hostile way that he said it that made me
know that this was going to be one of the conversations they didn't teach you
how to handle in library school—it was everything about him. The way he moved,
or rather fidgeted, told me right away that he had had the sort of breakfast
that destroys brain cells.
I had never seen the man, but I knew
right away who he was. The previous night we'd discovered that some people had
been stashing their belongings behind the air-conditioning unit in back of the
library. A polite note was left saying that if they didn't remove the items,
the library would have to remove them for them. It was nothing personal—for
liability reasons, people just can't do this.
I checked the back of the library to
make sure everything was gone—it was—so I figured the problem had been solved.
It hadn't.
"It isn't right—that generator cost
me 300 bucks, and someone is going to pay."
I apologized to the man and explained,
"The library can't be responsible for belongings left behind."
The man became more agitated. "Then
you know—you know where it was hidden. It was you. You took my generator."
I shook my head no and explained,
"I saw it last night, and know a note was left for its owner to remove it
from the property."
The man's eyes got bigger. He crossed
his arms and nodded a bit psychotically, "I know your kind—don't think I
don't. You think just because you have a job you can take from me." He
paused and continued in a threatening way, "You're either going to give me
back my generator or pay me. Otherwise, I'll call the police."
Even if the man had not appeared to be
on drugs, I think I still would have been a little nervous—he wasn't bigger
than me, but his appearance suggested the sort of man who liked to keep a knife
in his pocket. Still, I did my best to hide any fear, and calmly explained,
"Sir, I assure you that I did not take your generator. Maybe you should
call the police and report it as stolen." I knew that he wouldn't call
them, but I could always hope.
"Oh, don't think that I
won't." He paused, then asked, insanely curious, "Where is your car
parked?"
Plenty of patrons had asked me strange
things, but this was the first who asked me where my car was parked. It was
almost comical to look at the man, because he actually thought I was going to
tell him. I struggled to come up with a reply, but the best I could muster was,
"That's personal." What I meant to say was, "Sir, the fact that
I work in a public library doesn't make me stupid, it just makes me poor.
There's no way I'm going to tell you—a psychotic person who could very well
have a knife in his pocket—where I have parked my car."
The man stood straighter, and actually,
in his straightness, began to look even crazier. "It's in the parking lot,
isn't it?"
So
now the man thinks he's Sherlock Holmes, I thought, amused. A car
parked in a parking lot—who would have ever guessed!
I didn't answer his question, which
apparently was the answer the man was looking for. "I knew it—I'll find
it. Don't think that I won't. And I bet that generator's in the trunk."
He left the library, but didn't leave
the premises. I sent a co-worker out a few minutes later, who told me he was
riding a bike in circles around the parking lot.
I don't think he found his generator,
but, lucky for me, he got tired of looking for my car after two hours and left
in time for me to go home.
FAQ:
Library-Related Questions You Always Wanted to Ask but Never Had the Nerve
I
want to check out the Kama Sutra, but I don't want the librarian who checks out
the book to me to think I'm some kind of pervert. Do you think people are
perverts when they check out those kinds of books?
To be honest, the librarians checking
out books frequently don't pay an incredible amount of attention to what
they're checking out unless the person brings attention to themselves. For
instance, I was checking out a book on abortion to a teenager once. The teen,
who was a male, told me, "I'm not going to have an abortion or
anything—it's for a report." I had not noticed he was checking out a book
on abortion until he told me. If you're still paranoid, here are some tips:
Don't wear bright clothing that makes you appear strange, because people are
always interested in seeing what strange people are reading. Make casual
conversation, so the person checking out the book isn't paying attention to
what you're checking out. And, finally, hide the book in between some less
embarrassing reading material (e.g., Tom Clancy, John Grisham, or Mary Higgins
Clark).
A
librarian bent over to retrieve a book on the bottom of the bookshelf, and ...
farted. I had to really control myself from not laughing hysterically, and
ended up running off so the librarian didn't see me laughing. Was this the
appropriate course of action?
Laughter is always the best medicine.
The librarian had no trouble holding in what they were feeling, so why should
you?
Why
can't I look at porn in the library? Isn't it my right as a citizen?
Look at yourself in the mirror. You're a
disgusting creature if you honestly get some kind of kick from looking at
nudies in a place full of women, children, and—let's not forget—librarians.
Have some decency, you freak.
Have
you ever had a government agent tell you to hand over a patron's record?
No.
If
a librarian is mean to me and I call him/her on it, will he/she put fines on my
record and make my life miserable?
Librarians fantasize about doing such
things, but to actually do so would go against the code. If a librarian breaks
the librarian code, the head librarian (the same one who created J.K. Rowling)
will have no choice but to kill the librarian in question Agatha
Christie-style.
Does
the librarian like me?
Probably not. It's nothing personal.
Librarians aren't usually into people who spend time going to a library.
Besides, are you really attracted to the librarian, or are you just attracted
to the fact that they work at a library?
I
saw a librarian who was wrong. Should I tell him/her they are wrong?
Absolutely not. You'd only end up
embarrassing yourself. Librarians are never wrong—they know everything. If they
say 1+1=3, then they're right. In fact, 1+1 does equal 3; we only say 2 because
many, many years ago someone asked a librarian what 1+1 equaled and the
librarian said 2. It was the right answer then, but not anymore, because
librarians have since concluded that the new answer is 3. Go ahead, tell your
math teachers they're wrong.
Do
librarians drink, dance, and do things normal people would consider fun?
Some do.
Do
you?
I'm the designated driver. I did have a
sip of wine at a wedding once when I was 11, however, but I spit it out. But
boy, did it give me a buzz.
Why
are librarians so serious?
It's just the mask we wear to intimidate
people so they won't ask us questions. We hate showing off how smart we are.
If
librarians are so smart, why do they have to go to school to be librarians?
It is true that librarians are naturally
smart, but people won't believe this unless they see the sacred master's degree
attached to their résumé.
Is
it true that they're making a sequel to The Librarian: Quest for the Spear?
Sadly, yes.
Will
you watch it?
Sadly, yes.
What's
a good April Fool's joke to play on someone who works at the library?
A fine question. To play the best joke,
you really need to work at a library or know someone who does. One excellent
gag is to find someone who works at the library and has a teenage daughter,
pull up the daughter's record, and reserve a half-dozen books on subjects like
teen pregnancy, what to expect when you're expecting, and a book of what to
name your newborn child. When the books arrive, show them to co-workers and
spread nasty rumors. At the end of the day, tell the person that their
daughter's books have arrived. Wait a day before you tell them it was a joke.
If that's too mean, here's another good one: Most databases allow you to insert
a note field in the patron's record where you can write messages to alert other
workers if a patron was rude to you, lied to you, smelled like urine, etc. The
purpose of this field is to keep track of a patron who isn't paying fines or
has some sort of other repeating offense, but that doesn't mean you can't have
a little fun with it. So, find a loyal friend who has a library card and put a
note in his account that says something like, "If patron is wearing a red
T-shirt and a Disney hat, he may try to kill you. If he asks you how many books
he can check out, he is about to go crazy. Alert police immediately." Give
your friend a red shirt and a Disney hat, tell him to go into the library,
check out a book, and ask how many books he can check out. When the police
arrive, tell him it was just a joke.
Fun
With Cutters
I've always had the utmost esteem for
Melvil Dewey—for his professional tendencies, that is, and not for his
political views (he ardently approved of segregation and opposed women's
rights)—and the classification system he crafted. How can you not admire a man
who began working on a classification system at the age of 23, and started a
magazine (Library Journal) and
co-founded a professional organization (the American Library Association) at
the age of 25? But there is one thing I've always hated the guy for: cutter
numbers. (If a book's call number is 833.912 M31, then the cutter number would
be "M31.") To be fair, good ol' Dewey didn't come up with this scheme
of funky-looking numbers. (It was actually thought up by Charles Cutter, but it
seems more fitting to blame it on Dewey, because who's actually heard of
Cutter?)
As a library page, I always looked at
the numbers and wondered where they came from; they seemed to make no logical
sense, though I later learned that they actually follow a complicated system
that most librarians don't even understand or know about. Fortunately, many
public libraries (though few academic ones) are doing away with these cutter
numbers, favoring instead the use of the author's last name and, sometimes, the
year the book was published. It's not as accurate, but at least it's not
confusing. For those who are stuck with searching book stacks full of those
irritating cutter numbers, below is a field guide to make them a little less
confusing.
In fiction, you might see several books
that look something like this:
V584a
V584c
V584e
What does that mean? In this case, the
"V" would be the first letter of the author's last name; the
"584" would also refer, in coded fashion, to the author's name; and
the "a," "c," and "e" would each refer to the
title of the book. The purpose of this sort of cutter is to help a page shelve
a book by author in alphabetical order according to the book's title.
Apparently, library pages are too stupid
to read the title on the spine, so they need a confusing number to help them
sort things out.
Now here comes something really fun.
What if there is a book of criticism to accompany that book of fiction? That
would look a little something like this:
G832Z-T54
Why? In this case, "G832"
would represent the name of the fiction author whose work is being written
about; "Z" would mean it's a work of criticism (make sure it's a
capital Z or it might get a little embarrassing); and, finally, the
"T54" would refer to the last name of the author of the book of
criticism. One thing to point out, however: "G832" would actually be
a work by John Grisham, which is quite ridiculous, because who writes criticism
on that guy? As a sad side note, there are in fact books of criticism about
that guy, and some have compared him to Dostoyevsky.
Sometimes you see a number sequence that
goes something like this:
158.86-S16a
158.86-S168b
158.86-S17e
It makes logical sense that 168 is a
greater number than 17, so why would you shelve 168 first? Because a librarian
is always right. To the common man, this looks wrong, but to the librarian,
this is right, because a librarian is never wrong. The more proper excuse
they'll give is that cutter numbers are not read as a whole number; instead,
they're read digit by digit. Sound dumb? It is.
I won't go into how to make your own
cutter number, but if you're interested you can purchase the table here:
www.cuttertables.com
And to all you catalogers out there who
feel I have insulted you with this simplified version of your sacred cutter
system, please, no nasty e-mails.
When I first began these dispatches, I
hinted that perhaps there might be observations about other libraries. Thus far
I have done a bad job of this. Until now. Not long ago I came across a copy of
the rules for a Paris library circa 1300. If you have always been curious about
what libraries were like in Paris circa 1300, time-travel with me and read
these rules of library conduct, which, if nothing else, will make you
appreciate modern libraries a little more:
1. Robes and caps required.
2. No children or illiterates admitted.
3. Respectable learned men may enter if
introduced by a member; their "valets" must remain outside.
4. Each member keeps his own key and
loans it to no one.
5. Neither fire nor light permitted at
any time.
6. No books issued without the
permission of the society.
7. A book should be laid upon a desk
only after the dust has been removed.
8. No writing in or other abuse of a
book.
9. Whether writing or reading, no
bothering of others by talking or walking.
10. Maximum silence, as would be
appropriate to premises "sacred and august."
11. Condemned books are available to
professors of theology only—for use in line of duty only.
12. The professor is not to read such
works for curiosity, lest he be poisoned.
13. Violators of that restraint are to
be reprimanded.
I've seen bored librarians do everything
from play FreeCell to read a book. I typically go to Wikipedia. When I visit
the site on work time, I feel like I'm educating myself, which will help
library patrons in the long run. It helps me feel not so guilty for getting
paid over $20 an hour for essentially doing nothing. Plus, it makes me look
busy.
At some point in my infinite bored
searches, I find myself reading about Casanova and I dream that one day I will
join his ranks as the greatest librarian who ever lived. Sure, there are those
who argue that there were other librarians who contributed more to the
profession (people like Charles Cutter, Mary Fairchild, John Beckley, and
Zenodotus ... people I'm sure most have never even heard of), or people who are
more well known for having been librarians (people like Beverly Cleary,
Madeleine L'Engle, Jorge Luis Borges, or Lewis Carroll). But when I think of
famous librarians, I don't think of any of those people; I think of Casanova,
because he makes the whole profession seem sexy. In truth, Casanova didn't
really like being a librarian and didn't contribute anything to the profession.
Still, he is the only librarian to have Heath Ledger play him in a movie, which
has to count for something.
In my effort to become the greatest
librarian since Casanova, I am enlisting the help of my fellow readers. I'm asking
you all to please go to Wikipedia.org, type in "Scott Douglas," and
invent my life. Tell the truth, tell a half-truth, tell what you think might be
truth ... just make me look good. If that means saying I'm rumored to be
courting Jessica Alba or, heck, even a Brokeback cowboy, then by all means say
it. If Stephen Colbert can get people to write an entire Wiki entry on a word
that didn't even exist until he said it, then surely you can do this. Many of
you are probably reading this at work, and have nothing better to do, so here's
an assignment to cure your boredom. And, if you are really bored, you can go
one step further and add an entry for the word I use to describe boredom at the
reference desk: referbored.
Here are some of the Wiki topics/people
I've read up on: Mills Ends Park, Micronation, the Principality of Sealand,
D'oh!, Bill Gates's House, Weird Al, Death Erection, Dipendra of Nepal, John
Wilmot (Second Earl of Rochester), Ilya Bryzgalov, Ed Gein, the Invisibles.
Troubleshooting
Library Computer Problems
Problem: The USB won't go in.
Solution: Take off the cap.
Problem: I don't see the cursor.
Solution: Turn on the computer.
Problem 1.0: I need to e-mail this
document.
Solution 1.0: Open up your e-mail and send it as an attachment.
Problem 1.1: I don't have e-mail ... I
just need to send it to them. Can't I do that?
Solution 1.1: No.
Problem: I have a 100-page document that
I need to print, but I have my own paper, so why do I still have to pay?
Solution: Because trees can be cut down for free by some guy hoping to destroy
the Amazon rainforest. Ink takes a little more effort.
Problem: The numbers won't type.
Solution: Push down on the number-lock key.
Problem: The keyboard doesn't have elfish
characters.
Solution: Freak.
Problem: I cannot play Pogo.
Solution: Have you tried a dating service? There really are better things to do
with your time; sure, you're ugly, but there has to be someone desperate
enough.
Problem: Where's the "any" key?
Solution: Type the following: I-D-I-O-T.
Problem: Your library won't let me into
my Yahoo! mail.
Solution: Try typing it Y-A-H-O-O, not Y-A-H-O-A.
Problem: This ad tells me I have won an
iPod Nano.
Solution: Go for the gold, and give them your Social Security number to claim
your prize.
I had mixed feelings when my manager
asked me to go to the CLA (California Library Association) conference in Long
Beach. I hate conferences because I hate people, but this wasn't just a library
conference; this was the mother of all library conferences—only ALA's annual
conference could top it.
For readers wondering what happens at a
library conference (hint: there are no workshops on shushing people), I have
created a detailed diary of my day below.
- - - -
8:30
a.m. I decide to be
environmental and ride public transportation halfway. The station is in
Compton.
8:38
a.m. On train. Realize it's
probably not the smartest idea to be a white guy on a train in Compton. Begin
to consider whom I will text first when I am mugged and beaten.
8:39
a.m. Remember that when I
am mugged and beaten they will likely take my phone, so I don't really need to
worry about whom I will text first.
8:43
a.m. I didn't know Rosa
Parks had her own metro station. I wonder if she ever got a car. Make a mental
note to Google this later.
8:58
a.m. Arrive in Long Beach.
Acres of Books is walking distance from the convention center. Now I have
somewhere to go when I sneak out early.
9:10
a.m. I got off a stop too
early.
9:15
a.m. I haven't used a
public restroom since that whole senator scandal. I'm being extra careful. I
have an eerie feeling the guy next to me is going to try and play footsies.
9:21
a.m. Realize the first
workshop is at 10:30, not9 o'clock. Great.
9:28
a.m. So bored.
10:33
a.m. First workshop is
underway. It's onWeb 2.0. I hate that term.
10:36
a.m. Why do so many of the
female librarians at this workshop look like men?
10:38
a.m. First person leaves. I
am in the clear! Now I can leave and it won't be weird.
10:41
a.m. I really want to leave
but I don't want it to be weird.
10:42
a.m. Decide to stay. People
will stare if I leave, and I just don't have that kind of courage.
11:01
a.m. The second half of
this lecture is so boring!
Everyone is leaving. It wouldn't be weird or awkward now—everyone else is doing
it.
11:02 a.m. It would be weird. I stay.
10:05
a.m. Please be almost over!
11:40
a.m. Lunch at Islands. Try
to have a professional discussion.
12:10
p.m. Walk to the bay.
12:25
p.m. My impression of Long
Beach? Where are all the long beaches?
1:42
p.m. Visit the job fair.
After seeing the tables of various employers, consider the humor of being paid
to look at the job booths of other employers. I hope no one saw me.
1:57
p.m. Why is it that every
conference I go to has at least one guy wandering around like a lost European
backpacker who hasn't slept or showered in days? Seriously, who takes a hiking
backpack to a library conference?
2:09
p.m. Librarians are quite
tacky. I've heard one loudly, and unapologetically, fart. Another picked his
nose, and then seemed to admire the size of the booger. And, most pathetically,
I saw a librarian at lunch crawling on the ground for food that fell (which he
ate).
2:17
p.m. Next workshop is
presented by a guy who claims to be a futurist. Futurist! It sounds like
someone who didn't quite make it as a prophet.
2:19
p.m. This guy is sure proud
of himself. Lecture summed up in one sentence: Be prepared for the future.
2:20
p.m. Look around the room
and wonder if anyone actually pays the $200 for this thing.
2:43
p.m. He seems to be very
passionate about something, but I'm not paying attention, so I don't know
what—must be inspiring, though. I'd like to pay attention, but I just
remembered I still haven't watched the sequel to Librarian: Quest for the Spear—I'm really distracted by the
thought.
2:46 p.m. Who would really know if I left early?
2:47
p.m. Someone would know.
2:48
p.m. I was kind of hoping
the guy would talk more about gadgets of the future and not how bleak the
library's future might be.
3:40
p.m. I am never going to
get those hours back.
3:51
p.m. The next lecture is
about wikis. It's the same stuff I heard in the morning.
4:40
p.m. They lost me at hello.
5:01
p.m. Finally going home!
Note: Some times and places have been
changed, staggered, and/or exaggerated so as to make people believe that I did
not sneak out early.
For a photo diary of my trip to the
CLA conference, visit speakquietly.blogspot.com.
Patron
of the Week
Some patrons you can just tell are going
to be crazy. Clemens, a homeless man in drag who came into the library this
week, saved me from guessing and told me right when he walked in: "My
name's Clemens. I'm crazy and want to use a computer." To seal the deal,
he extended his hand to shake.
If I'd been anywhere but the library, I
would have shaken his hand and wondered what exactly he meant by "I'm
crazy." At the library, however, saying you're crazy simply means you
belong. What I couldn't, however, shake from my mind as I shook his hand was
how exactly a homeless man in drag got the name Clemens.
As I signed him up for the Internet, he
proudly explained, "I'm just visiting. I'm from hell." I thought
about asking about the weather this time of year, but didn't want to extend the
conversation any longer. "I'm from an artist community of hell called Los
Angeles," he explained further. "I had a wild night last night. I got
drunk, took some magic pills, and ended up in a prison down here. They just let
me out. I probably should get an HIV test, because I'm pretty sure I screwed
more than one person, and possibly a camel—but that might have just been the
pills talking."
The man had just openly confessed that
he might have had sex with a camel, and I didn't know what to say, so I said
the first thing on my mind, "You can use computer No. 10."
He nodded, and then asked, "Can you
tell me the name of the site that has pictures of every single person, dead or
alive, and you can see them from every possible angle?" I almost directed
him to the Homeland Security website, but instead went the easy route and just
said I didn't know what he was talking about.
For the next 30 minutes, the man sat in
front of the computer but didn't actually use it. Instead, he watched everyone
who walked by, and talked to anyone who would listen. After 30 minutes, he came
to the desk once more and wanted directions back to Los Angeles on the bus. He
didn't care what part of L.A.—any part of the city would do.
When he left, I smiled, and kind of
hoped he would come back. A little bit of crazy is nice sometimes.
Lost
& Found
Camouflage Batman hat
Spelling book (level 2)
Organic-yogurt container (empty)
Rubber ball (flattened)
Jurassic
Park sports bottle
CD wallet (containing approximately 24
CDs, all classical except for one: Céline Dion)
U.S.
News & World Report recently
selected librarian as one of the best careers for 2008. Were they right? I
suppose it depends on whom you ask, but to help you decide I have compiled an
objective list of the top reasons to be (or not to be) a librarian.
Ten
reasons to be a librarian
You totally get to classify things.
Where else are you going to ruin a
person's day over a 20-cent fine?
The funky glasses make you easily
mistaken for a hipster.
You can make up whatever you want and
people will believe you just because you're a librarian.
You get first dibs on unclaimed items in
the lost-and-found box.
You get to be in charge of buying
furniture that is least likely to show a piss stain.
Playing Scrabble on the Internet can be
considered "professional development."
The most stressful thing that happens is
arguing with people over why they cannot view their favorite pornography
website.
Get to spend two hours designing a sign
that says the library will be closed for the holidays.
No one says anything when you fall asleep
during a meeting.
Ten reasons not to be a
librarian
Who wants to go to grad school for two
years to learn theory you will never use?
Those little punk teenagers on
skateboards.
People kind of expect you to know
things.
If you know enough about how to find
information to be a good librarian, you can definitely make more money doing
something else.
People automatically assume that you
have some weird fetish for cats.
People expect you to help them find
things when you are not working just because you know how.
Some people think you are weird because
you classify things in your house—like clothes and dishes.
Writing library policy can be about as
fun as watching paint dry.
Every great idea you have is likely to
get shot down as soon as someone says, "Let's form a committee to decide
things."
At some point in your career, someone
will, or will try to, physically assault you over something incredibly lame
(like not giving him or her more time on the Internet).
The
Firemen
I don't like calling 911. It makes a
part of me feel like I can't handle situations. The only thing worse than
calling 911 is calling 911 twice in one night.
Call
No. 1
A young patron reported a man on the
floor in the restroom twitching. I investigated the restroom and saw there was
indeed a man on the ground twitching with his shoes and socks off. He was not
responsive. 911 was called, and firemen were immediately sent out. Female staff
were alerted so they could primp themselves on account of firemen being in the
building. Firemen went in the restroom, asked the man what was going on, and he
explained he was just changing his socks. The man left quickly and refused
examinations from the firemen.
Call
No. 2
When the page reported to me that a
woman was sleeping and would not wake up, I was not alarmed. Some people are
just deep sleepers. When I saw who the woman was (a regular who was known for
wandering around the library mumbling incoherently), I figured she was just
trying to avoid being asked to leave. I yelled that the library was closing and
she would need to leave ... she didn't wake up; I banged on the chair and
window next to her ... she didn't wake up; I nudged her leg ... she didn't wake
up. I did all that I could for the woman, so I decided it was time to call 911.
I explained to the dispatcher that the
woman was breathing but would not wake up. I added that her position may
indicate that she'd had a stroke.
Female staff were alerted so they could
primp themselves on account of the firemen being in the building.
The firemen arrived promptly and spent
five minutes trying to wake the woman up. When she finally rose, she seemed a
bit surprised at all the men surrounding her. She smiled, and appeared to be
flirting. The firemen told her they wanted to take her to the hospital to get
checked out, but she declined. She abruptly stood, straightened her shirt,
wiped away the drool, and said she would be fine walking home.
She left the men and went outside the
library for a smoke.
I was a bit disappointed. I wished
neither of the patrons anything bad ... just that at least one of them would be
taken away, so I didn't look like just a troublemaking librarian.
The
Library Brawl
I've seen my share of fights in the
library. Normally, it's sweaty spoiled kids involved in some sort of pushing
match because of the comment So-and-So left on a MySpace page; occasionally,
it's a bit more ridiculous and involves looking at someone the wrong way. But
they are kids full of angst, and really I can do nothing more than laugh and
wish I would have used my cell-phone camera to film it so I could put it on
YouTube. But when two large adult women with children started going at it I had
a hard time laughing it off, because that kind of stuff should be strictly kept
caged on the set of Jerry Springer.
Regardless of how I felt about the scene, I am a librarian, and, though it is not in my job description, I must do my best to keep order. Upon arriving at the fracas, I was met by another peacekeeping librarian. The two large women were in each other's faces. I said something along the lines of "Ladies, let's please break it up." The other librarian took a much more passionate approach, saying, "Don't do this in front of your children." He made the better point, in retrospect, but, alas, it didn't matter, because neither woman heard us. They were too caught up in each other's faces to know that other people were talking.
I suspected it would be just angry talk
mixed with the occasional swear word, but it got a bit more hostile when the
slightly larger woman said, "Go ahead and hit me—I'm pregnant." I'm
not sure what's worse—the fact that a pregnant woman was egging an angry woman
into a brawl, or the fact that the angry woman actually did it. (Well, not a
hit exactly, but a shove that heightened the entire ordeal.)
It was the shove heard around the
library, because right after that a circle formed around the angry women;
patrons came from all corners of the library to watch. Their eyes cried for
fight. I expected the behavior from teens, but adults? They were supposed to be
helping us out, encouraging the women to break it up.
It all seemed to be in slow motion now.
One woman was on her cell phone describing the scene to a friend, one of the
women's children was begging his mother to stop, another librarian looked on
hopelessly, and teens by the dozens were laughing the whole thing up.
I was certain someone had to be filming
it for YouTube; it would be an Internet sensation: Brawl in the Library! If
teens going at it got millions of hits, I could only imagine what adults (in a
library, of all places) would get. I looked over the crowd to be certain 911
was being called, and I could see a third librarian doing his best to explain
to the police dispatcher that, yes, two grown women were brawling in the
library.
Pushing continued. Both women threatened
to take it outside, as if it really made a difference where they fought. I
found all of this a bit humorous—you can yell, swear, and push in the library,
but fists could not come out unless you were outside. I did not dwell on the
oddness of this then. Instead, I continued with the other librarian to try to
get through to the women. I knew it wouldn't work, but I also knew that we had
to at least make it seem like we were trying.
The pushing escalated until they were
near the library's exit, and then, almost poetically, it stopped. Both women
took a step back. We talked one woman into going into another part of the
library to cool down, while the other woman stayed near the front.
Police arrived 10 minutes after the
pushing fight. There was nothing more for me to do, so I went to dinner. Upon
my return, I learned that absolutely nothing happened. Both women went home
after explaining their story to the police. It was a good story, certainly
worthy of a fight in front of their children. What was it? Well, in the line of
people waiting to check out books, one woman cut in front of the other woman.
People Who Come Into the Library That I Try to
Avoid
The young woman who
mumbles that she is possessed by Satan and only he can take away her pain.
The guy with slimy hands
who always wants to shake hands.
The man who says people
keep touching him and that I need to do a better job of watching out for these
people.
The woman who likes to
call employees on the phone and talk dirty.
The man who calls asking
for the "non-1-800" number for a company he saw on a TV infomercial.
The man who destroys a
hardback book and then insists on replacing it with a paperback on a completely
different subject.
The woman who brings in
a list of 20 books and wants to reserve all of them but doesn't know how to use
a computer.
The man who complains
about the restroom not meeting his expectations.
The man who wants to
sell the library air filters.
The woman who demands
one-on-one computer instruction for her hour computer session.
The man who complains
that people are watching what he writes in his e-mail.
The man who's convinced
that the Mafia has infiltrated the local 7-Eleven.
The
Librarian: A Twitter Story
Did final library sweep.
It's empty and quiet. I miss the chaos already.
about 1 minute ago from web
When people ask what I do at
work, I can tell them I help mentally challenged people stalk celebrities. How
can I not like this job?
about 3 minutes ago from web
A mentally challenged man
just asked me for Ozzie Osbourne's mailing address.
about 4 minutes ago from web
I love the sound of
computers shutting down at night.
about 7 minutes ago from web
Man wants to know where the
VHS movies are. I can't believe people still have VHS.
about 11 minutes ago from web
Why are teenage girls so
excited to read A
Child Called It?
about 13 minutes
ago from web
Man comes to desk to show me
the book he found on the book sale shelf. He's so excited for the find. Says
he'll sell it on eBay.
about 16 minutes ago from web
Diana never texts back;
apparently she's not impressed with the observation.
about 23 minutes ago from web
Text Diana to tell her about
the smell.
about 25 minutes ago from web
I think a man sprayed down
the stall with cheap cologne to cover up the smell of his crap; it's hard to
say which smells worse.
about 26 minutes ago from web
After I leave the computer
room, a man runs to me and complains the men's room is out of toilet paper.
about 29 minutes ago from web
Page brags about all the
things he is doing in college. Makes me feel both old and sad.
about 30 minutes ago from web
Battery on man's computer
dies, and he has no choice but to leave.
about 45 minutes ago from web
Man doesn't want to leave. I
tell man the class is over. He's trying to avoid leaving because he wants to
watch the end of a YouTube video.
about 47 minutes ago from web
Help man find the image on a
Nevada state quarter. He tells me it's the best class he's ever been to.
about 52 minutes ago from web
Man tells me at the end of
class that he is sad because I didn't cover what he came here to learn: what
image is on Nevada's quarter.
about 53 minutes ago from web
Proud grandpa blurts out,
"Limewire! That's what my grandson uses!"
about 1 hour ago from web
Woman tells class they don't
have to buy music/movies, because there's a free program called Limewire. Her
son told her it wasn't illegal.
about 1 hour ago from web
Weird question #2: Is it
possible to find a friend's social security number on the Internet?
about 2 hours ago from web
Man says computer turned off
and he didn't do anything. Later admits he pushed the power button because he
wanted to see what it would do.
about 2 hours ago from web
Guy mentions smart grandson
again ... I'm pretty sure the grandson is illegally downloading computer
programs; I don't tell man this.
about 2 hours ago from web
Weird question #1: Is it
true the government keeps track of your e-mail to see if you don't pay taxes?
about 2 hours ago from web
Took five minutes, but one
guy got in a "grandson is so computer smart" comment. Now the weird
questions...
about 2 hours ago from web
I just know at least one
person is going to mention their grandson. Guarantee it.
about 2 hours ago from web
About to start the class.
About 20 people. Half look like beginners. At least two will definitely ask
weird questions.
about 2 hours ago from web
I love this class ... people
are always amazed by everything I show them. It's all new to them.
about 2 hours ago from web
Look at schedule to see what
class I'm supposed to be teaching tonight. It's computer basics.
about 2 hours ago from web
Setting up room for computer
class. I hate when people knock on the door and ask when the 6:30 computer
class starts.
about 2 hours ago from web
Leaving for lunch.
about 3 hours ago from web
Half my time in this room is
spent telling kids not to run. What is so appealing about running in a library?
about 3 hours ago from web
Find thirty-page book;
mother asks if I'm sure there's nothing shorter.
about 3 hours ago from web
Mother asks for help finding
the shortest book on her son's reading list.
about 3 hours ago from web
See boy leaving the library.
I can't believe he's not taking me up on the airplane contest challenge.
about 3 hours ago from web
Boy wants book on how to
make paper airplanes. I challenge him to a paper airplane contest.
about 3 hours ago from web
Man asks about the computer
class. I forgot I was teaching a computer class tonight ... that usually makes
the night go by quicker.
about 3 hours ago from web
Less than one hour until my
dinner break.
about 3 hours ago from web
Two boys stand sadly near
the computer room, waiting for story time to be over so they can play Internet
games again.
about 3 hours ago from web
Small girl proudly shows me
the crafts she made, and asks her mother if she gets to come to story time next
week.
about 4 hours ago from web
Storyteller looks so tired.
I'm glad I don't have to read stories anymore.
about 4 hours ago from web
Kids have started doing a
craft in the middle of the kid's room.
about 4 hours ago from web
Girl asks for Super Diaper Baby. I thought she saidSupreme Killer Baby.
about 4 hours ago
from web
I can't believe how many
kids want to read Diary
of a Wimpy Kid.
about 4 hours ago
from web
Hardly anyone ever comes to
the desk during story time. I like this part of the day.
about 5 hours ago from web
Story time is starting.
"Happy and We You Know It" is playing. I hate that song.
about 5 hours ago from web
Mother complains that she
can't get on her MySpace page on the kids' computer. She's upset that it's only
available on adult computers.
about 5 hours ago from web
Small boy is crying that his
mom left him. Find mother checking out books. She yells at him for getting
lost.
about 5 hours ago from web
Turns out it was sink water.
Take boy to mother, who is on the adult side using Internet. Seems upset that
I've bothered her.
about 5 hours ago from web
Child complains that a kid
keeps splashing him with toilet water in the bathroom.
about 5 hours ago from web
Man wanders into the kids'
room. Asked if he has a kid in the room, he says, "No. I'm just
looking." Kicked him out.
about 5 hours ago from web
Patron wants help finding
two books on kangaroos that add up to exactly 100 pages.
about 6 hours ago from web
Patron needs a 100-page book
on kangaroos for his daughter. Show him some that comes close to 100 pages.
about 6 hours ago from web
Switch to kids' information
desk.
about 6 hours ago from web
I don't like breaking up
fights. One day one of those little punks are going to stab me.
about 6 hours ago from web
Fight didn't transpire. It
appeared to be over an older guy with a tattoo on his head who was amused by
the arguing.
about 6 hours ago from web
Patron just complained that
two girls are about to fight in the park. This could be interesting.
about 6 hours ago from web
Staring blankly at the clock
on the wall.
about 6 hours ago from web
Received a phone call asking
if you needed a library card to check out books.
about 6 hours ago from web
Boy complains that vending
machine took his money, but didn't give him candy. It's always taking money
from kids.
about 6 hours ago from web
The find-a-job computer
always entices me this time of day.
about 6 hours ago from web
The quiet room does indeed
smell like pot, but I can't figure out who it's coming from.
about 7 hours ago from web
Woman complains that the
quiet zone smells like pot.
about 7 hours ago from web
The men's room is my least
favorite place in the library.
about 7 hours ago from web
Receive a complaint about
the men's room being out of toilet paper; how is it humanly possible to go
through a roll so quickly?
about 7 hours ago from web
Man wants to know my
feelings on the president's stimulus package. Explain I cannot discuss opinions
at work.
about 7 hours ago from web
Woman wants to know why the
library doesn't carry medical textbooks. Try to explain cost and demand are the
major factors. She's not happy.
about 7 hours ago from web
A woman is using the
libraries computer to watch Toy Story.
about 7 hours ago
from web
Went to help man; he didn't
know the icon that said Internet was to open the Internet.
about 7 hours ago from web
Man comes to the desk
insisting that his computer does not have Internet.
about 7 hours ago from web
My day would be so much
easier without all the complaints.
about 7 hours ago from web
A man complains about a
woman using her phone loudly; it is the woman who complained about the man
smelling.
about 7 hours ago from web
Woman is back; says the man
who smells is now talking on his cell phone. Return to man, but he is not on
phone.
about 7 hours ago from web
Woman just complained about
a man who smells bad; went near man, but didn't smell anything. Suggest she sit
somewhere else.
about 7 hours ago from web
Just went outside to write
down plate # of car in handicap space, but it is already gone.
about 7 hours ago from web
Woman just told me to call
the police because someone is parked in handicap w/o a sticker.
about 7 hours ago from web
Patron wants to know why our
computer won't let him log into e-mail. Ask what his e-mail address is. He
can't remember.
about 7 hours ago from web
Comment to another librarian
how overly dramatic the film version of Twilight was.
about 8 hours ago from web
Tell girl how long the hold
list is for New
Moon ... I remember when kids used to get
emotional for Harry
Potter. Times sure have changed.
about 8 hours ago
from web
Diana text'd back telling me
she misses me. It's nice to be missed.
about 8 hours ago from web
Why did I become a
librarian? I really need something to happen today to reassure me.
about 8 hours ago from web
Text wife to tell her work
is boring
about 8 hours ago from web
Person complains about the
library being too loud ... I agree, but it's a library, what do they expect?
about 8 hours ago from web
Computer patron back again;
he meant #10 in the teen room. Tell him room is for teens only; tells me he
doesn't want computer anymore.
about 8 hours ago from web
Computer patron back;
doesn't like computer he's assigned to. Asks to use computer #10.
about 8 hours ago from web
Ask patron not to talk on
their cell phone. They explain that the cell phone designated area is too loud.
about 8 hours ago from web
Patron complains he can't
log into computer. Reassign him to new computer.
about 8 hours ago from web
Informed walking to
reference desk that the men's room is out of toilet paper. Change toilet paper.
about 8 hours ago from web
Check schedule at work to
make sure I only work until six; turns out I work until nine. Hate when that
happens.
about 8 hours ago from web
- - - -
To see this story
irregularly unfold, you can follow Scott's tweets @scott_douglas
Not Posted Rules of the Library
You can't talk loudly on
your cell phone just because you saw someone else doing it.
If you need help on the
computer, do not motion for staff to sit at your computer and say, "Just
do it for me."
If you need help, or
have a question, please refrain from grunting your request like a caveman. For
example, if you need time on the computer, do not throw your card at staff and
say, "Time." Instead, "May I please have more time on the
computer" is a much politer approach, and will likely provide for a more
pleasant interaction between you and staff.
Do not argue with staff
over a $0.20 fine; it makes you look cheap and is embarrassing for everyone.
Do not let your child
pound on keyboards and throw the computer mouse, and then tell staff you can't
do anything about it because he/she "just won't listen."
Do not ask to use the
phone because it's an emergency, and then proceed to have a highly personal
conversation with the person on the other end of the phone about that new rash.
You paying your taxes
does not singlehandedly pay for the library, and furthermore you were in here
last week asking about how you could hide money so you wouldn't have to pay
taxes.
No, staff will not help
you find games on the Internet.
Don't ask for help
emailing your résumé as an attachment unless you have typed up the résumé.
Furthermore, don't ask for help printing before you are ready to print. In all
cases, it is best to ask your question(s) when you are ready to have the
question(s) answered.
Staff has no interest in
hearing your views on the president's stimulus package, nor anything else
political.
Do not keep track of
what kind of cars staff drives; this is both creepy and unnecessary −
staff can keep track of their own cars just fine.
- - - -
There is no humor in
this month's dispatch. My apologies in advance. Your irregularly scheduled bits
of odd library observations will return next week.
If you're still reading,
then chances are you either like libraries or you Google'd library porn, and
you're still hoping to find some hidden in the text below.
For the past year, the
institutes that boldly sit as a cornerstone to every metro city and even most
small towns have been threatened. Unlike police and fire protection, there are
many who believe public libraries are a luxury and not a necessity to
cities—people who believe when money is a bit harder to find, then you simply
close the library doors for a couple days. I hope you are not one of them.
This dispatch is by no
means political, but I want you to consider the message that many politicians
are proposing to fix the economy, which is train the unemployed new skills; now
consider how to train them without libraries. Community college and state
universities are wonderful places, but not always ideal for the average laborer
who just needs a lesson in how to use the Internet so they can even fill out
the thousands of job applications that are exclusively online.
You're on the Internet
and obviously know how to do at least some navigation. There is a huge
percentage of Americans who don't even know how to use a mouse, and that's one
of the millions of everyday people that the librarians in your cities serve. A
part of every public librarian wishes their job consisted of sitting around all
day reading and recommending books; the fact is most of our job is actually
centered around helping people open email accounts, create résumés, and attach
résumés to e-mail.
Contrary to popular
belief, the job of a librarian has absolutely nothing to do with books; the job
of a librarian is to help people find information, and information comes in
several different forms. It could be a student writing a term paper needing to
know how to find information on the term Volkerwanderung, or who simply
wants to find the name of the latest Grisham—but more than likely, at least in
recent years, it's the unemployed worker needing information on how to write a
résumé or find a job.
There are a lot of
people who have been going into public libraries over the past few months, and
have not noticed a huge change; most libraries have tried to keep the changes
as transparent as possible—things like reducing hours of part-time staff,
eliminating some of the less popular programs, not replacing librarians who
have retired, or only ordering one copy of a bestseller instead of two. Some
libraries have had to face more extreme measures.
Seattle's entire library
system was closed for a week. Philadelphia posted notices at all locations
stating that if the state legislature did not act on the city's budget request
then all of its libraries would shut down on October 2, even after already
reducing their service hours. Fortunately, just weeks before the scheduled
closure, a resolution was reached to save the library—at least for this year.
These are just two of
the extreme examples, but almost every library in the country is suffering from
budget cuts, and they won't get better unless people voice their concerns; this
year you'll probably see a lot less part-time staff wandering round the shelf
to help you; next year you may stop seeing your library opened on
weekends/evenings or even open at all. Several times a month, I read a story
about a library system that has to cut back the number of hours they are opened
to the public to save money.
Personally I have lost
over 50% of my hours. But this dispatch isn't about me. Librarians can survive
without libraries—we are a well-educated group and can do other things if need
be. Libraries are vital and sacred institutes, and the question you should be
asking is, do you really want your city to go without one?
I keep reading articles
that say something along the lines of "People flock to in times of
economic crisis" and all I can think is, that's great if they can
find a way to keep them open. It's true that people are coming in record
numbers. In the fifteen years I have worked in libraries, I have never seen
them busier. The problem is more and more people are coming in stressed and
upset; they need jobs, they are on the verge of bankruptcy, and they need
help—and libraries don't have the funding to help them. It's not uncommon to
see every computer (over sixty) taken at my branch, and only one person to help
everyone—on top of this there's usually a line several people deep of people
who need non-computer help; obviously you cannot give people the help they
deserve with this ratio. If you've been to a library lately, then you probably
recognize this as a common tale.
If you don't believe me,
then visit your local library and ask staff how the branch has been affected; I
imagine they'll have a lot to tell you.
Libraries don't earn
money for a city, but they do earn a city pride; they enrich lives; and most
importantly, they help people get the skills they need to reenter the work
force. In hard times, they shouldn't have limited service hours—they should
have expanded services hours. When a person goes to a library to get help
seeking employment, and they see a notice on the door that says that due to
cutbacks the library is not open, it only adds to the persons frustration that
there is no hope or places to go for the help that they need.
I'll stop the gloom
here. At the very least, I hope you consider that your 20¢ fine may actually be
helping provide better service, instead of demanding to see a supervisor
because you feel it's unfair. Actually, how about you don't complain to anyone
at the library—if you don't like the libraries service, then please complain to
some public official that matters and ask them (beg them) to give libraries
more funding, so they won't be the latest in a long list of libraries that just
aren't making it, and have to cut back hours and close branches to stay afloat.
Spread the word. If you
approve this dispatch (or even if you hate it, but you like libraries) then
start a Twitter trend—just tweet #savethelibrary.
Is
Illiteracy So Bad? (The Morning News
Edition)
Literacy’s flaws are many and obvious: Reading can be
boring, suggest ideas about how to destroy things, and give voice to people who
shouldn’t have one, in addition to a platform to voice that voice. But these
are only surface issues—there are whole other arenas that are rarely discussed.
For instance, literacy causes colds; case in point, I developed a horrible cold
just hours after an entire night reading Infinite
Jest. I also discovered a strange raging sexual lust when I read All the Best,
George Bush: My Life and Other Writings, and though I’m actually a little
embarrassed to say what happened after finishing The Power and
the Glory, the itchy rashes in sensitive spots still have not gone away. If we
simply give into the will of our hearts and stop reading, we will finally be
able to establish the utopian world that great thinkers have been planning for
centuries.
A Bookless
World With Lots of Extra Space
Bookstores
and libraries take up lots of space. It’s obvious if the world went illiterate,
bookstores would become video/record stores and Starbucks outlets, but
libraries are a different story. Closing a public library would mean thousands
of displaced homeless people with no place to brush their teeth, millions of
parents with no place to send their kids after school while they work, and
worst of all, thousands and thousands of bitter unemployed librarians
cluttering up social service offices with their sad tales of how they use to
get paid to do nothing. Libraries, as useless as they are, cannot be turned
into franchised retail venues, but that doesn’t mean millions of city dollars
must be spent to keep open buildings that, in an illiterate world, are useless.
As it turns out, libraries can become useful again—if they are converted into
more practical things.
One possibility is a television
center, where we can feed on five- or 10-minute slices of entertainment.
Today’s man is a creature on the go, so clips rather than whole shows would
prevent wasting patrons’ time, or worse, boring their minds. For instance,
feeds might show all the various ways and reasons Homer has said ‘D’oh’ onThe
Simpsons, or slow-motion clips of characters being killed on The Sopranos. This center also solves
cities’ other big problem—what happens to our overpaid librarians in this new
illiterate world? Obviously those with too much seniority to be fired would act
as personal TV guides. And those unfortunate enough to finish their graduate
degree in library science without getting a full-time job aren’t necessarily
out of luck. Many of these former aspiring librarians are also former aspiring
children’s librarians, which, as it happens, means they’re perfectly prepared
for a career in acting—they will likely be able to find jobs in Hollywood, as
the ugly old hags in the background behind beautiful stars. The other
librarians (the ones who did not aspire to be children’s librarians) can take
the jobs that no one wants in the library—these jobs include, but are not
limited to, dressing up as favorite TV stars and entertaining the patrons,
explaining to older patrons that times have changed so deal with the bookless
world, and being the greeter at the door.
Former library buildings might also be refitted into
community weightlifting centers. Everyone likes to stay fit, but no one likes
to pay the high membership dues. Why not put the gyms out of business? It would
boost everyone’s morale. And librarians are, of course, known for their great
physical strength, which they achieved by picking up and putting away the
library-bound reference collection edition of the OED. They could be put to
work as trainers. In larger former libraries, boxing rings can be installed and
librarians can serve as spotters.
One last possibility for library
buildings is one many libraries are already experimenting with: Stocking up on
computers so patrons can search the Web for really neat graphics and games.
This, like the TV center, would also benefit those overpaid librarians, who in
this scenario would advise patrons on the best places on the Web to find games
that are addicting but, of course, not challenging, because challenge would
only add stress in a graphical world. To the literate, this task may seem
meaningless and mundane, but to the illiterate, pictures and pretty graphics
provide fulfillment. To help get rid of all the text on the Internet, and thus
provide more precise image matches, a U.N. council could be formed to
investigate and solve the problem.
Everyday Life
We mustn’t, however, examine only the places that house
books. Illiteracy is a very serious issue that should not be taken lightly. Words,
we must admit to ourselves, are everywhere.
One of man’s most sacred items, the computer, will have to
be equipped for the illiterate mind. A computer keyboard with letters, for
example, holds no value to an illiterate. Our new, more perfect world will need
a Windings keyboard. The Wingdings keyboard, modeled after and inspired by the
Wingdings font, will replace the letter on each key with a cute illustration. A
formal greeting might therefore look like: :-). And a formal farewell might
look like: :-|. Not only do these new communications save space, and, further,
ink, but they will also be easier to remember. Many years ago, the mightiest,
smartest men of them all—the cavemen—used signs and got along pretty well in
life; we should not be so quick to mock this sort of communication as
primitive.
And we cannot forget about television,
which will be one of the leading devices in this graphical age. Of course there
will be no need to have titles for TV shows. Graphics will be used instead. For
crime dramas, there could be a couple engaging in something promiscuous while
holding a gun and a badge. For half-hour situation comedies, there could be a
couple engaging in something promiscuous while holding a cup of coffee. And for
reality shows, there could be a man holding a camera and a handful of cash
while filming a couple engaging in something promiscuous.
The Future is Near
Now with no books or literacy we can finally eliminate
language, at least language in the traditional sense. Hearing somebody speak in
complete sentences will be confusing and hard to follow. When the world is
surrounded by graphics, speaking in words seems inappropriate. Since it is
impossible to speak in images, something else needs to be worked out. At first
it will be best to speak using chat room abbreviations; when you find yourself
amused at something, you will smile and tell the person ‘L-O-L’ or when you are
leaving you will say ‘B-F-N.’ A formal, romantic wedding proposal would look
something like, ‘W-Y-M-M?’
Abbreviations sound clumpy and will become quickly boring to
the illiterate world. This is why people will eventually need to learn how to speak
solely in rhyme. Rhyme is catchy. And for those who are horrible at rhyming,
there is always song. Song is the most effective way to communicate, right next
to rhyming. And even when you’re saying hurtful things, they’ll come out
sounding pleasant and delightful, and probably no one will even notice that
you’re being mean.
I am quite aware that what I am saying
seems to be a bit of an oxymoron, and that even writing it goes against all my
principals as an illiteracy activist. Without using literacy, however, I will
not be able to convey my message of illiteracy fully. For more information on
how you can more fully prepare your home, town, and country for the illiterate
world, you can read my forthcoming book Illiterate Living for the Illiterate
Man, a 2,500-page illiteracy manual for better living.
Note to the reader: وكقئ¬§
و=If
ك=Reading
ق=This
ئ=You
¬=No/Not
§=Illiterate
Is
Illiteracy So Bad (Alternate Essay)
It will not be long until people are
completely illiterate. People think more clearly graphically. Computers have
taught us that. What I, and several other illiteracy advocates, have discovered
is illiteracy is not such a bad idea. Recent studies have shown books and
further literacy are not good. Besides being boring, reading can propose into
our minds ways in which we can cause destruction to one another both physically
and mentally. Not only that, but reading also gives foolish men not only a
literary voice, but an arena of fans to voice his foolish voice. Clearly the
worse of all literacy’s woes is the harm it can do to the body. I developed a
horrible stomach flu after reading Gravity’s
Rainbow to a group of elderly sick women at a convalescence home. Some will
reason that this is merely coincidental, but evidence of further bodily harm
inflicted by books will silence these skeptical voices. I have had strange
raging sexual lust for the most inappropriate things ever since reading Diplomacy by Henry Kissinger, developed
ingrown hair all over my body after reading 1984,
and, this is embarrassing to admit, I developed itchy rashes in sensitive spots
after reading The Hero with a Thousand
Faces. The question today is no longer whether or not literacy is a good
thing for society to have—clearly it is bad. The question today is how to
successfully implement illiteracy into society.
The clearest, most obstructive, obstacle
to be overcome while making the illiterate switch is books. Lots and lots of
books. Books are one of the biggest contaminators of all things illiterate.
They clutter houses, bookstores, libraries, schools—and no illiterate likes
them. Even illiterates, however, know that it is even more wasteful to simply
burn them. There are many wonderful possibilities for the once useless book.
One possibility, one the
environmentalists will no doubt appreciate, is recycling them. Books can be
easily recycled and turned into cardboard box homes for all the people
displaced after losing their job in the publishing world. Books might also be
recycled and turned into new, more conventional, DVD disc cases or even,
barring a technology breakthrough, a paper television set. Recycling books will
also do its part to boost the economy. It will create hundreds of new book
recycling centers across the world, which will in turn employee hundreds of
workers at each plant. It will also give children a new hobby. Each day they
can go door to door offering to collect unwanted books, which they will take to
the recycling center and earn $0.36 a pound. A hundred John Grisham will get a
kid $36.00 to spend on video games.
Understandably, people will want to keep
some of their books as relics of the past. It seems silly, however, to take up
space on the CD and DVD case for a book. Why not be practical? Wear the book.
Not only is this a wonderful fashion statement that all your friends will envy,
but also books are durable and will hold up well in the wet season. Books also
have an unmistakable aroma to them. Wearing older books will give your body an
antique odor that will be the talk of the party. People will cheer when they
smell you enter the room and say, “Well would you take a whiff of that! She’s
wearing a 1678 leather-bound—she must be a famous actress.” While paperback books
are best used as jackets and sweaters, hardback books can be specially cut and
worn as shoes. Book shoes slide great on hardwood floors, and are perfect for
dancing, kickboxing, and ballroom parties.
For poor families, who cannot afford to
keep books as mere luxuries, there is the most practical solution of all—you
can eat the book. For the religious zealous, it’s Biblical—Ezekiel did it. For
everyone else, it’s just plain good. Books are loaded with essential vitamins
and nutrients, and many are low fat (though you should be cautious of the
biographies—especially the ones on Churchill). Books are best marinated with
lemon juice and garlic pepper, and served at room temperature; overcooking
books will result in a toughness in some of the pages. Books can also be boiled
and mixed with honey mustard and mayonnaise for a delicious book salad.
Novellas and short story collections make terrific desserts that are easy to
make; just cut off the spine, rip out the copyright page, throw it in a bowl,
top it with two scoops of ice cream and your done—it’s that simple.
While books are pointless to the
illiterate world, magazines are a different story. There are literally millions
of magazines circulated across the world everyday. It would be shame and
economic disaster to close all of them down. It is a bigger shame considering
that most magazines have nothing to do with literacy and the very few that do
can simply be reorganized to fit the illiterate world. Entertainment magazines,
for instances, are 70% pictures and advertisements; these magazines just need
to teach their writers how to shoot a picture and their done. Computer
magazines are 80% graphs, charts, and illustrations; these magazines just need
to hire illustrators. Literary journals will be most affected; editors for
these journals should plan on seeking talented voice actors and putting the
contents of the magazine on a CD. All other magazines and journals would
benefit by sending subscribers coloring books.
Newspapers, like magazines, should not
be shut down. They just need to be more conscious of what their readers want.
Newspapers are paper hogs. Nobody likes what their doing to the
environment—especially illiterates. If newspapers want to keep their
subscribers they should condense the paper into four pages; page one will show
photos of things happening across the nation; page two will show photos of
things happening locally; page three will show sports photos (players on the
winning team should be highlighted in the photo to indicate a win graphically);
and page four will show screenshots from movies currently playing (grainy
pictures for bad movies and sharp pictures for good movies).
And let’s not forget the authors who
have benefited financially from literacy. It would be an unfortunate thing to let
the life of the author simply waste away. Even though their words have caused
harm to many people over the years, they are still artist and should be treated
as such. Writers who merely pretended to be authors by writing genre fiction
such as legal thrillers, mysteries, and romances will finally be able to return
to their real jobs of doctors, lawyers, politicians, and drug dealers. Authors
who were born to write will need to use their creative abilities elsewhere.
Joining Disney imaginers designing roller coasters and theme parks would be the
best choice for authors, but there are other options. Hollywood, for example is
always looking for talented people to write scripts for reality television
shows, and t-shirt manufacturers always need new minds to come up with exciting
gimmicky logos. Sadly, most writers are stubborn and they will see their only
real choice is drinking themselves into a coma state of conscious from which
they will never return.
The institutes and people hit the
hardest by the illiteracy will not be publishers and authors. The institutes
hit hardest will be bookstores and libraries. Both take up lots of unnecessary
space, and both need to be reckoned with. Anyone with even the least bit of
observation skill can see that most bookstores are sixty percent DVD, CDs, and
coffee. If bookstores simply remove their books and expand their audio, video,
and caffeine selections, then the problem would be solved.
Public libraries are more problematic
than bookstores. Converting their entire collection to audio and video would be
costly. And closing libraries would mean thousands of homeless men and women
would have no place to brush their teeth and comb their hair, parents would
have no place to send their kids after school while they’re still at work, and
the worse evil of them all—librarians—thousands and thousands of angry, bitter,
unemployed librarians cluttering into the social service offices telling their
sad tales of how they used to get paid good money to sit around a desk doing
absolutely nothing. Libraries, as useless as they are, cannot be closed, but
that does not mean the city has to keep spending millions of dollars to keep
them open simply to appease a few patrons.
It seems the most obvious possibility
for libraries is the television center. Here, patrons can be fed five or
ten-minute slices of entertainment. The modern man is a man on the go, so
clips, instead of entire shows, will give patrons the appropriate amount of
humor before they need to go again. Theses clips might, for instances, show all
the various ways Kenny has died on South
Park, or slow motion clips from war movies showing people being killed.
Television centers also solves another problem—what is to be done with all the
overpaid librarians in the illiterate world? Librarians with too much seniority
to be fired will serve as personal TV guides. The poor people who finished
their graduate degrees right as the world went illiterate are not necessarily
out of luck. Many will be able to use this degree to help get their foot in the
door at other jobs—like modeling, motorbike racing, and dog grooming. Those who
still aspire to work in former library buildings will have to fight off
competition by performing all the TV center jobs that no one else wants to do;
such as, dressing up like cartoon characters and dancing around the curb in
front of the TV center to attract patrons, or helping older patrons figure out
ways to deal with the changing times of society.
Cities might also consider turning their
libraries into community weightlifting and fitness centers. People constantly
complain about wanting to stay fit, but not wanting to pay the high membership
fees of gyms. What better way to boost morale then to put high cost fitness
centers out of business? It is a proven fact that librarians have great
physical strength from all the years of picking up and putting away oversize
books and dictionaries. Finally librarians have a chance to show off their
strength by serving as trainers in the new gyms. Larger city libraries can also
install boxing rings where librarians will be spotters. And being financially
conscientious, cities can save money by making weights out of books. This will
also give patrons hip things to say; such as, “I can bench the entire
Shakespeare collection.” During step aerobic classes, patrons can tie books to
their ankles for added workout pleasure.
Several libraries have already begun to
experiment with computers in the library. Why not go the next steps? Fill the
entire library with computers that patrons can use to search for really swell
graphics and games. Librarians, in this scenario, can consult with patrons on
the best places to go on the web and find games and pictures. Techno savvy
librarians can also build programs that help patrons find what their looking
for on the web graphically, and eliminates the need for typing in words to get
to web pages.
Of course, as in any utopia society,
there are holdouts. There are always holdouts. They will whine and say
illiteracy is wrong. Some will be former illiterates themselves who have
learned to read just to be different. They are not bad people. They are
confused people, and they cannot be ignored. They are dangerous and sometimes
contagious. A special bureau will need to be formed by the United Nations to
track them down. Once found, they will be sent to a secluded island in South
East Asia that was formally used for leopard people. On this island, illiteracy
experts will force them to read legal thrillers, political thrillers, thriller
thrillers, biographies of Jennifer Love Hewitt, and any other book that
displays the art of bad writing. They will be forced to read bad writing in the
morning, in the afternoon, and in the evening. While they sleep, speakers will
blare out Ronald Regan lyrically reading Left
Behind. When book lovers confess that they cannot stand to read another
book again, and begin throwing-up at the mere sight of them, they will be sent
home to work as coal miners.
There are also those people who will be
upset with illiteracy simply because they find the act of reading leisurely.
There are very few of these people, but they still need to be accounted for.
Giving them other hobbies will help take care of this. Possibilities include
weightlifting, learning magic tricks, and card shuffling.
Even for the majority of people—the ones
who never found the act of reading at all leisurely—admit that reading was
sometimes nice. A perfect example of this is while flying on an airplane when
the flight attendant says it’s time to put away the portable DVD player,
because it’s time to takeoff or land. What does one do? Cards are also out of
the question because that darn tray has to be up. Sitting in the seat resting
is absolutely boring. What now? This is the perfect time to thumb wrestle with
the person in the seat next to you. Thumb wrestling is a wonderful conversation
starter and it gives circulation to your hand.
All is well and good now for the
librarians and the authors and even the books, but what about the people? How
can they prepare their lives for the change of illiteracy? Words are
everywhere: on signs, in TV guides, on keyboards. There’s no escaping
words—unless we replace them.
Many of mans most sacred objects are not
compatible with illiteracy. The computer, for instance, is graphical in many
places, but lacking in others. A computer keyboard has no value to the
illiterate mind. The keyboard, therefore, will work best by replacing the keys
with the Wingdings font. On the Wingdings keyboard, the ‘A’ key will become the
‘d’ key, the ‘S’ key will become the ‘h’ key, the ‘D’ will become the ‘I’ key, etc. To say hello in an email or chat
room, one will hit the ‘C’ key, and likewise, to say
goodbye, one would hit the ‘L’ key. To
check the arrival time of an airplane, one would hit the ‘Q’ key. To write in an email “the teleconference
will be videotaped,” one will simply key in the “.,” “',” and “9” keys. It’s
that simple, and it’s easy to remember. It saves space, saves time, and it
saves ink (and, parenthetically speaking, ink has been getting quite expensive
in recent years). Many years ago, the caveman used this form of communication,
and they seemed to get along pretty well in life. If disco and top hats have
come back retro, then why can’t caveman talk?
The television cannot be overlooked in this careful analysis of the illiterate world. One of the most popular features on any cable or satellite device is the ability to see what the television show is about, or at the very least what the name of the show is. The time has come for television shows and cable/satellite providers to embrace the graphical world.
There really is no need for titles. Most people call shows by using a one sentence description, like, “that show with the gay guys,” or “the one with girls that jump up and down on the trampoline,” or sometimes, “I don’t remember what it’s about, but it’s funny.” To help viewers better associate with the show, graphics should be used. For crime dramas there could be an illustration of a couple engaging in something promiscuous while holding a gun and a badge. For half-hour situation comedies, there could be an illustration of a couple engaging in something promiscuous while holding a cup of latte. And for reality shows, there could be a void of nothingness, because reality shows aren’t really about anything and a void of nothingness would best illustrate this idea.
Titles and names will also have to be changed in the illiterate world. Street names, for example, will be too confusing. They can be easily replaced, however, with symbols. Thus, when giving your friend directions to your house, you will say, “Get off at the smiley face exit, turn right on triangle, and left on square—it’s the fourth house on the right.” Symbols might also be different colors. Colors could replace number streets (first street, second street, third street, etc). Everyone would know that if they past a blue street, then a yellow street, green would obviously be next since mixing blue and yellow makes green. Other titles and names, such as the ones that are on boxes of macaroni or deli sliced ham, can simply be removed. If there needs to be a name to help a person distinguish what it is their about to eat, then it’s best not to eat it.
Illiteracy in the school system will also prove to be instrumental in the growth of man. Illiteracy in high school has been problematic in the past, but that is only because administrators weren’t properly trained in how to teach it. Studies have proven time and time again that students hate reading and studying. By giving them movies to watch on World War Two, the Depression, Civil Rights, and the Civil War students will be not only entertained, but they’ll have their homework completed in half the time; this will give them more time to go to parties, get drunk, do drugs, engage in sexual orgies, and steal—things homework typically doesn’t give kids the time or energy to do. Many kids have been left feeling isolated and confused in the past, this is largely do to homework not giving them enough time to just be kids and engage in normal kiddy orgies. Literature classes have the potential for being hardest hit by illiteracy, but can easily be converted into film classes. Most teachers have understood that kids are, by and large, illiterate and assigned books that have been turned into movies. Converting into film classes will give students a chance to be rewarded for what they’re already doing—watching movies.
When mankind has fully disposed literacy from society, it will be time to take it a step further: eliminate language. Language in the traditional sense that is. Once man has evolved and adapted to the illiterate society, hearing a person speak in complete sentence will be confusing and hard to follow. It seems inappropriate to use words in such a way, when the world is operating graphically. If a person could speak in graphics, then the problem would be solved, but man of course cannot yet do such a feat, and so something else must be worked out. People who use chat rooms on a regular basis already have a good idea of what needs to be done, but to all the non-chat users let me spell it out: abbreviations. To tell someone “excuse me for jumping in,” you would simply say politely “E-M-F-J-I.” To tell someone the discussion has been a “complete waste of time,” simply say frustrated “C-W-O-T.” To tell someone, “I think you have pretty eyes, and I think I love you,” simply say romantically, “I-T-Y-H-P-E-&-I-T-I-L-Y.” The ampersand will of course be tricky at first for some people, but it’s easy once you get the hang of it.
Using abbreviations has some setbacks, and society will learn them quickly. The obvious set back is the sound and flow. Abbreviations are clumpy sounding and when used at any length will be boring. To correct this setback, people will need to speak completely in rhyme. Rhyme is catchy. Rhyme is not messy. Rhyme can make even my aunty Bessie sound a little less testy. Some people simply cannot, will not, should not—rhyme. That’s okay too, because when rhyming fails, then there is always song. Song is the most effective way to communicate next to rhyming. In some situations, song can be even more effective then rhyming. When your about to tell someone that you hate them and you wish they would hurry up and die, rhyme can sound a little too gangster and hurt the persons feelings worse. Song, however, makes even the worst sounding news seem pleasant and delightful. If a prison warden told the parents in song that their son the murderer had just been executed by firing squat, the parents would shout with joy—unless of course the prison warden was off key, which is exactly why song delivery is everything when giving bad news.
Sadly even in this magical graphical utopia, there has to be some thinking, as even graphics require thinking. And sadly this, like literacy, wasted too much time. Perhaps one day our emotions will be injected into us and we won’t have to think on our own at all. In our comatose state, where even memories of happy times are irrelevant, there will be no thoughts, no feelings, and no beliefs. We will vegetate and have no worries and be perfect. It will make the illiterate utopia seem as no utopia at all. But that fine day has yet to come, and for now we must settle for graphics.
Note to the reader: dahnIf
Writing = d
this = a
essay = h
is = n
in fact = I
an oxymoron = f
When the patron told me members of the international community were watching her because she had knowledge of secret documents in the government's possession, and not to be surprised if federal investigators soon questioned me, I knew it was going to be an interesting night.
Working in a public library, I have come across a number of strange things and an even larger number of strange people.
The patron, a plump middle-aged woman with dirty hair but a surprisingly refreshing perfume, came into the library like anyone else. At first glance, one would never suspect her of being who she turned out to be. She spoke coherently and seemed courteous. She had the typical grandmother looks, and was very polite and friendly.
She went to her assigned computer, and I believed that would be it – she'd do whatever it was she needed to do. I was wrong. Five minutes later she came to me and said that something was wrong with the printer. I checked it out and indeed it hadn't printed her job. I apologized and asked her to print it again.
"It's no use," she finally told me. "They're just hacking into the computer – like they always do. They steal everything that I want to print. I don't know why they want this stuff anyway."
I didn't know then who "they'' were, but I assured her that they weren't.
She quickly rebuked me.
"You don't know how they are. They're good. And they're always doing this to me. They're all over the library – look around. Whenever someone wipes their head. That's one of them – they're speaking in code."
It was hot and many people were wiping sweat from their brows. In fact, I believed the woman herself had wiped her head a few times.
She did not speak loudly, but she spoke loud enough that anyone nearby could easily hear the conversation with little effort. The listeners included the men she undoubtedly believed were talking in code.
I persuaded her to print again and stood with her at the print station to make sure she did everything right. As we waited for her document to come on the screen, a pregnant woman soon stood behind us, waiting to print her own document. The older woman turned and became hostile, saying to the pregnant woman, "I know what you're doing. You're suspect. Everyone is suspect."
She then pointed at the pregnant woman: "This woman here has been watching what I've been doing since she got here. And the stomach's not fooling me – they probably hired her just because she's pregnant. But she's still suspect."
The pregnant woman backed away slowly and I did my best to apologize to her with my eyes.
The older woman looked at a small boy, who was wandering around the library with his mother, and said, "They've been training kids for years now. They used to only use them in other countries. But now they're using them in the U.S.; have been for at least two years."
It took us two more tries to get her documents to print. I saw them disappear from my print screen with my own eyes. When, at last, they printed, she switched her focus from hacked computers to the copy machine. She needed to make multiple copies of her document to, in her words, "be safe." She was able to recognize a national conspiracy against her. But she was not able to work the library's very basic copy machine.
She said the copy machine was slow and wanted to know who the library's vendor was. When I told her, she laughed to herself, then said: "I'm not surprised. They are funded by our government. They make copies of everything Xeroxed on their copiers, and forward it to analysis at the NSA. Every time a copy is made, it's stored on a tiny chip inside the copier."
She looked quickly around the library and said in an almost incoherent whisper, "I'll show you where the chip is if you want to see it."
I was curious, but didn't want the woman to think that I was taking her too seriously, so I declined the offer.
She nodded understandingly and said, "It's better you don't know where it is anyway."
She had more theories. The whole idea of religion of Islam was founded by a secret society of world leaders – George Washington and almost every other president had been in the group. So were Napoleon and Hitler. World War II was thought up during a game of poker between Churchill and Hitler. She went on to tell me why she came to the library. "I'd do it at home. But it's too dangerous, so I had to come here."
Her face became sad.
"And I had to leave my dog – my poor dog – in the car. It's their fault that my poor dog is suffering in my hot car. And I can't roll my windows down because they'll take him. They have before."
I thought about that poor dog's suffering as I watched her leave the library, then wait at the bus stop and get on the bus. There was no dog in a car. That settled it; I could be satisfied that the women was simply paranoid and crazy.
Then two young men with army buzzed heads and crisply ironed white T-shirts walked by and quietly said, pointing at the bus, "Let's go."
Everyone was "suspect" to the woman, and I imagined she had left believing I was innocent, but nonetheless would have to give an interview of what she said to me to the secret agents upon her departure.
Aimee Bender is Evil: An Opposing Viewpoint
Some years ago, while I was just a young lad in library school, I came across a story called “Quiet Please” (read it here: http://www.randomhouse.com/boldtype/0798/bender/sstory1.html) by Aimee Bender. The story was published in GQ and later in the short story collection The Girl in the Flammable Skirt.
She was quite the talk of town among critics at the time who were calling her the post-modern Kafka. While critics were praising her, I, and many librarians, were mocking her for that story.
The story is about a librarian having a series of graphic sexual encounters in the break room with various patrons, and concludes with the librarian being paraded through the library like a sexual queen of sorts.
The story explored a now popular cliché that librarians are desperate sexual predators hungry to have sexual encounters in the break room. Bender’s allegations are completely untrue, unfounded, and uncalled for. Nonetheless, Bender’s story has seriously hampered the creditability of librarians and the serious nature of their job.
For the record, I have never witnessed or heard of such encounters happening in a library, and further have concluded that Aimee Bender is evil for ever making the claims. Public librarians are nice people, but sexual addicts they are not.
Now law librarians--that’s a whole different can of beans--they can be wild animals when provoked.
Nicholson Baker Is a Big Fat Idiot
Nicholson Baker Is a Big Fat Idiot
If you go to graduate school to get a degree in library science, you’re bound to come across figures in the literary circle that really pissed off a librarian, and your entire two years in graduate school will be at times misery because of this literary figure.
There was only one when I was in school. Nicholson Baker. There are few people who can stand alone in a sentence by being both the noun and verb--good ole Nick is one of these people.
The curse of Nicholson Baker apparently all started in 1996, when Baker wrote an article called “The Author vs. the Library” for the New Yorker (volume 72). The article attacked the way the San Francisco Public Library was discarding many of its older books.
I have not read the article, I do not care what the article has to say, and indirectly I don’t hold anything against Baker (although I still cringe when I hear his name and silently curse him for the horrors the name put me through in graduate school).
To this very day, many librarians have remained bitter and outraged with Nicholson Baker; in fact many faculty members at San Jose State’s library science department will probably be willing to argue about Baker and book preservation at the mere drop of his name.
Things That Pop Into My Head While Bored At the Reference Desk
Why doesn't everyone wear their socks inside out?
How did I end up here?
Does Apple really not have the capability to create a iPod Touch with bigger storage? Or perhaps it's just all part of there marketing plan? Get them to buy this, then the bigger one comes out in six months. I'm sorry, Apple, but you are not the anti-corporate enviorment you try to make us believe. You are no better the Microsoft. And at least Bill Gates gives money to charity...what have you been doing with yours, Steve?
Is Warren Buffets kids not at all upset that he didn't leave them any money?
Why don't they just call it a computer center? And if people want books they can go to the bookstore. People who read statistically have more money then people who sit on their butts all day playing computer poker, and checking out the personal ads on Craigslist.
Does anyone who wears a tennis shoe play tennis? Everyone who walked into today wearing them does not look like the tennis-type.
I think I'd rather have a jury by professional jury person (someone who gets paid to sit on a case (like a career)), and not a jury by peers.
Were any of the Golden Girls fetching in their younger days?
I think that movie The Holiday is making Americans try and be British and say, "I'm going to have holiday at my boyfriends home." It just sounds stupid when some American chap says it.
Why does it always sound dirtier when a British person talks about sex?
I don't really miss TV now that it's on strike.
How the heck is J.D. Salinger still alive? Has anyone check in on his home lately?
Who will be the next American to win the Nobel Prize for Literature? I'm guessing DeLillo, but I'm hoping it's Pynchon.