Yay for Philadelphia!

As a followup to my previous post about the possible closing of the Free Library of Philadelphia, I am pleased to pass along that the library will remain open! The Pennsylvania State Senate passed a bill that will allow the library to remain open, and keep 3,000 city employees from being laid off. I love it when people come together to do good like this!

Say it ain’t so, Philly

I really like Philadelphia. Despite its obnoxious baseball team (who the Mets beat today in dramatic fashion [finally]), it has a lot of good things to recommend it. It’s walkable, pretty, and since the murder rate is so high (but now falling!), it’s nice that the cabs are plentiful and relatively cheap. Plus, I have good friends who live nearby, which clearly adds to the awesomeness that is Philly. At one point, I’d even considered moving there and getting a job at one of the city’s library branches. Which is why the news that the entire city/regional Free Library of Philadelphia system will close on October 2, unless the state legislature approves funding, is both so shocking and frightening.  I’ve heard of branches closing or hours being cut back, but I’ve never heard about such a large library system considering closing down altogether. This is both nuts and scary. In this time of increased economic hardship, libraries are playing a vital role in their communities.

Should this happen, I wish the best of luck to all who lose their jobs because of this, and the worst of it to the politicians responsible.

Again?

I never tire of asking what is wrong with people, and as usual, the dawning of a new day just brings me new people to despise and pity. The culprits this time? Some stupid yahoos in West Bend, Wisconsin, who think that censorship, law suits, and book-burning (literally) are perfectly cromulent responses to books in the Young Adult section that they find inappropriate. No rational person is going to argue that every book in a library is appropriate for every person who who may walk into that library. And I’m all for parents having a say over what media their children consume (until those kids are over 18 or paying their own way in life). But instead of these people just telling their own children not to read certain books, which would be well within their rights as parents, they want to label and move books and prevent other people’s children from having access to them, too.

Instead of being ashamed of themselves for being so fearful and hiding their intolerance from the world, such people wear it proudly like a badge and want to get more people to join their crusade. Ginny Maziarka is one of the spokespeople for the efforts to censor the library’s materials and amend its policies for labeling young adult material. She seems to be the leader of those in West Bend who are trying to prevent other people’s children from reading things that their own parents may not find objectionable, and runs the West Bend Citizens for Safe Libraries web site.

This is what I don’t get about so many issues that people object to; if you don’t like it, don’t do it/watch it/listen to it/eat it, etc. Why should I have to live according to what you believe? And who gets to say what is appropriate anyway? I mean, I find those Purity Ball things highly suspect, but I would never force grown men to stop encouraging their daughters to wear prom dresses, don pseudo-wedding bands, and pledge their virginity to their fathers. Because that’s not creepy at all.

Thankfully, Ms. Maziarka does not speak for the entire town, and there is a reasonable response to that site, in the form of Sleepless in West Bend. The library is for everybody (even weirdos)! There are a lot of things in the library that I kind of give people the side-eye for even wanting to look at, but that doesn’t lessen my support for those items to stay in the library. I’m not sure how I missed out on hearing about this sooner, since Gawker covered it over a month ago.

Things I should have known

I was searching the library’s catalog for dvds of the A-Team, (which I surprisingly cannot find) when I discovered that George Peppard of the A-Team was also in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Color me surprised. I know that a few decades had passed between that movie and the tv series, but you’d think that I would have recognized him. In my own defense, 1) I hardly know the names of any male actors from before I was born and 2) he did change a bit.

At last, an upside

There are few bright sides to getting unengaged after having been engaged for six months. Luckily, I have found one. I am probably the foremost unmarried, unengaged local expert on New York/North Jersey weddings, not counting people who work in the wedding industry. I spent six months reluctantly planning a wedding (which would have kicked so much ass anyway), making innumerable phone calls, sending out a googleplex emails, and reading a brazillion web sites and blogs. All of this led to the creation of a pretty fantastic spreadsheet which, several months after my broken engagement, I was able to fish out of my Google Docs trash and place in a more benign, but also rarely-visited folder.
At work, I seem to get a lot of questions regarding weddings, wedding web sites, venues, costs, vendors, etc. These people have no reason to know that I know this stuff, but somehow they always ask the questions when I’m around. If I were more self-centered, I’d think it was some sort of retribution (why, universe??? I recycle), but I tend to think it’s just their good luck.
So I DO know the going rate for a wedding band (no less than $4500 for a good 4-piece band), the busiest month for weddings in NJ (October), and how much you can expect to pay for a sit down country club reception during prime wedding season (Friday: ~$125; Saturday night: ~$145). I know where on the reference shelves to find that book about wedding venues in the area, since we all remembered seeing it but nobody could recall the title. I know which Manhattan bridal boutiques engage in ridiculous markups, and which are relatively honest (because, let’s face it, the same dress should not cost $200 more at another store).
I just hung out the other day with a friend who unfortunately needed to get a divorce after a brief marriage. I know that this is a really rough time for her right now, and as bad as it was for me last year, I can’t help but thank my lucky stars that my ill-advised engagement did not culminate in marriage.

And now for something completely different

I got an email today asking me what it was like to be a librarian. I like talking about my job, so that was no bother. Earlier today, though, I got another email about a possible opportunity in an entire different field from librarianship. It was one that I had briefly considered and then stopped thinking about entirely a while back, so this email was welcome and piqued my interest. I’m pursing that possibility, and I’ll see where this all leads.

Scary thought

I have a confession to make: even though I’m a librarian and the first thing that people usually associate with my job is the Dewey Decimal system, I don’t KNOW it by heart. I mean, I’m good; a lot of the time, if you tell me what you’re looking for, I’ll give you the number right off the top of my head. Still, I will admit to sometimes not knowing where I can locate specific subjects. I get a silly rush of glee every time I do know something off the top of my head, but if I were back in my cataloging class and had a test on the Dewey Decimal system, I know that my score would not be perfect.

I guess my new goal is to know more of this off the top of my head, but it got me to thinking: what other professionals forget this sort of core knowledge once they’re no longer in school being tested? Doctors? Pharmacists? It’s kind of frightening; I know that if I forget where something is located, I can just look it up in our catalog. Despite what some impatient, huffy patrons think, a lack of instantaneous knowledge on my part is never a matter of life and death. If a doctor or pharmacist makes a mistake, somebody could die. I salute the medical professionals of the world for even entering that field, because I would not like to perform a job that had the potential to determine others’ lives.

Too touchy?

I don’t consider myself easily offended. I make and laugh at jokes about women, black people, New Jerseyans, Americans, Christians, liberals, and a host of other groups to which I belong. And I do believe that non-black people can talk about, or disagree with, black people without automatically being considered racist. So why did it bother me so much today when a white coworker used the word “uppity” to describe an annoying black patron?

I’ve been thinking about it for the last couple of hours, and I think I’m bothered because the word uppity has such a troubling history. When I hear it, I think of a person whose behavior is somehow above what could reasonably be expected from one of his or her station. I don’t know if this is a definition that would be used by that any significant portion of the non-black population when defining uppity, but it’s probably what a lot of black people think when they hear it. This word has been the subject of recent press, after Lynn Westmoreland, a Republican Congressman from Georgia, used it to describe Barack and Michelle Obama, then claimed to be ignorant of any racial connotations to the word. He’s from Georgia. Even if that’s not what he meant when he said the word, I find it unlikely that he could have spent the past 58 years in Georgia without somehow knowing that this word might have had a racist connotation. His explanation that he thought they were elitist and snobbish also makes no sense. They’re pretty high up on the freaking totem pole, buddy. Certainly higher than you. How do you expect them to behave? Also, I’m really love it if I Westmoreland could answer this question: what about a duly elected senator who won his party’s vote to be their Presidential candidate could be considered too elite? Don’t we want our leaders to belong to a relatively high class in society? Who should be of a higher class than those who aspire to lead our nation? And if that higher class does exist, why aren’t they running things?

So this patron was annoying, but in the same way that scores of other patrons are annoying many times throughout the day. She didn’t seem to look down on us, she just didn’t really care that what she wanted didn’t conform to library rules. She was over the whole rules thing, but she never acted as though she was above us. I get along just fine with my coworker and I’ve never thought for a second that he might have a problem with me due to my race, but things like this always make me uneasy.

Then they came for the librarians

I don’t normally end up laughing in actual amusement when I read editorials in the New York Times. Mostly, I’m laughing in disbelief, like “Did s/he really just say that?” So I was pretty shocked today to find what Gail Collins had to say to be both salient and amusing. The salience was already the icing on the cake, so the amusement factor was wholly unexpected, yet appreciated. Here’s the column.

Apparently, my nausea last night meant that I missed the part where Palin bragged about threatening to fire the town librarian for refusing to censor books. Sorry, but even if the rest of your speech didn’t make me feel ill, I would never have cheered at the thought of using mayoral power to threaten a librarian. It’s not the job of librarians to censor books. If you’re concerned with your children’s reading habits, or what they may be exposed to, visit the library with them and talk about what you do or do not want them to read. This is another part of parenting. I think enough people have piled onto Palin’s parental fitness with not nearly enough evidence, so I don’t say that expecting the library to do this is bad parenting. I will, however, say that it is passing off important family decisions that people probably should not expect strangers to make for them.