July 2005 Archives
Lying awake last night, staring into the blue and gray darkness, I made that universal mistake of trying to sleep. I've wanted to get the go going much earlier, but failed yet again today.
What I remember keeping me awake last night was rather benign. I kept going over the words I'd written here earlier, "in the shadows of the howitzer hungry slopes of Alyeska." They are, of course, dripping with dramatic intent. But they fail. They are the evidence a university creative writing professor feasts upon when they use it to tell you how impossible it is to make it as a writer and that your writing is just too damn wordy. Say what you mean, nothing more.
So ended my thoughts of writing.
The problem with those words, a problem I'm still thinking about now - on this overcast day in Michigan - is that usually you need sunlight in order to cast a shadow. I can't recall the effect of the sky in Girdwood during the waning winter months I spent there - but I am guessing that there weren't so much shadows as there was a surrounding thick grayness to the world. So to say that one is standing in the shadows of the mountains would be entirely false. Sure, you are standing in their presence, which was what I had actually intended, but are there shadows on overcast days?
Right now I am looking out into the backyard, where a rather large tree is merely 30 yards from the tip of my nose. The earth underneath is darker - but there is no distinct boundary. No firm line. Of course - there are no lines in nature, but I am again abusing word choice. What I mean, is, there is no distinct shadow. There are tones of lightness that spread out, thin out, and disperse without warning.
And now as the sun momentarily peeks out, shapes are molded into the grass. In this instance, there is most definitely a shadow cast upon the earth. Its design emerges - then fades - then reappears. An oft ignored light show. The passing woodchuck is not concerned.
Yet I was. And I laid awake thinking about shadows as I looked around my room. And the clocks kept spinning. And eventually I awoke this morning, with no recollection of any dreams.
Update: (6:02) Just came back in from the outside. Short of hurling rocks, sticks, or insults at me -- still, the shadows made themselves known. Apologies to all shadows or relatives of the shadows -- I've been living in ignorance.
Having Willishrinx stationed in Girdwood often makes me wonder what it would be like if I were to try to manage my as yet to begin librarian career in the shadows of the howitzer hungry slopes of Alyeska. Based on the volunteer experience I have in ILL, I imagine preservation of the materials has to be one of the greatest challenges. Occasionally during this past winter, books from Alaska would manage to find their way into our library. They'd arrive zipped up in a waterproof bag, with a little plastic loop-lock to keep the chain from opening in transit. I mean, it snows in Michigan, but you know those books are facing some challenges just eyeing the packaging. There are probably many more challenges, and perhaps as many rewards as well...
Jessamyn pointed out that I can now read about the experiences of approximately 20 Alaskan librarians on the Alaska Library Association website. Included amongst them, Denise Halliday, the Girdwood librarian, as well as Juneau's Daniel Cornwall, a.k.a. the Alaskan Librarian on Flickr. No section on Skagway though...
Something to chew on...
And a chance to see if Willi knows his neighbor...
The Ann Arbor District Library's redesign of their website is receiving a lot of attention, and rightly so. Giving AADL.org a very quick onceover, I am extremely jealous. Compare it with my local library's background image - and you can get a hint of why. My immediate response to good design is always a desire to rip up my CSS and start anew here - and believe me -- that urge has been dropkicked into my chest.
AADL is chock full o' bloggily goodness. The conversational aspects of a weblog, providing feedback and gathering input from its readers are alive and well at AADL. Shifty provides the insight of why this format is working so well for them -- and how they are employing it correctly:
The AADL blogs do it all right. The posts are written in the first person and in a conversational tone, with the author's first name to help stress the people in the library. The staff isn't afraid to note problems with the new catalog, the web site, or anything else. Full transparency - nice. You can feel the level of trust building online. They respond to every comment that needs it, whether it's a criticism, question, or suggestion.
She then goes on to list examples of the comment feedback -- and then makes a follow up post after hearing from the AADL's tech guru - Eli Neiburger.
One aspect that can't be overlooked is AADL's utilization of RSS throughout the site. Powerful for disseminating information, fun for play. Take a look at how patron Edward Vielmetti is harnessing the power of the library feeds in the right-hand column of his blog.
Elsewhere:
mousemusings: Slick New Ann Arbor District Library Website
Librarian in Black: Blogger asks for RSS @ Library...and gets it
lbr: AADL's new website unveiled to rave reviews
I just had myself a good laugh.
Went out to the mailbox - rifled through the junkmail...
Pulled out a postcard from The Cruise's church.
I'm not one to point fingers -- but that handwritin' sho nuff looks like it could belong to someone whose name begins with the letter B. WRONG!
I found it particularly amusing that it was addressed to "Kevin Yezbick's house."
HAR HAR.
Update: (2:49am) It took the after-effects of ingesting mass amounts of Little Caesar's (Hungry Howie's, must've been delerious) pizza for me to piece this together - but I've figured it out. Staring up at the ceiling, fitfully rolling from side to side while my belly continued to bubble, I remembered seeing New York underneath the address label. Then I remembered who had been in New York recently. Then I got out of bed, went downstairs and picked the card off the fridge and compared the address label handwriting with handwriting from a letter I have tucked away. Then I saw the Nashville postal stamp -- somewhat blended in with the black background. That was when I knew it was my cousin who shall remain nameless - which makes far more sense than Ms. B -- as it really isn't her style of humour. You would think she would be too busy planning her wedding, but hey...she's industrious. That the card managed to get here at all I attribute to the power of the will of The Cruise -- as the zip code was off by five whole digits...
Anyhow -- it still warrants a HAR HAR. Now maybe I can fall asleep.
While visiting friends in Georgia for the 4th of July, I decided to spend an afternoon at the Decatur Public Library, the main library in the Dekalb County Library System. I was staying a mere 1.2 miles away - so I decided I'd hoof it with my laptop in tow. I stopped off at the Raging Burrito for a bite and ran into an old classmate from Georgia State - then headed up the street to the five-story library.
I set up camp on the Adult Nonfiction floor - and checked Netstumbler for a Network -- and came across only a very strong encrypted signal. I asked the man at the reference desk (not sure if he was a librarian or not - but I sure hope so) whether or not they had wifi. He responded in the negative with a lil info about Starbucks having one and maybe that's what I was picking up. I thanked him and went back to my window seat.
Then all hell broke loose.
It started with thunder. Intermittent at first. Then the sky went pitch black. I MEAN DARKNESS. The wind began whipping trees sideways and branches were flying around. WALLS OF WATER. I was stranded.
I approached the desk again, observing as I did that the gentleman was in the process of reading some website flashing a Minority Report Banner. Definitely not busy.
Me: "Excuse me. Do you know how big this storm is?"
Him: "No."
Me: (Puzzled) Well, do you know if it was supposed to rain today?"
Him: (Somewhat annoyed, perhaps?) "I don't really keep up with the weather."
Me: Blink. Blink. (pick up jaw from floor)
Him: You can go down to the 2nd floor and use our internet terminals if you need to.
Me: Blink Blink. Uhhh. Ok. 2nd floor. Right. Thanks.
So I go down to the second floor - and remember that signing onto the terminal in Dekalb requires a library card -- which in my case is tucked underneath the glass cover on my desk for fond remembrances and posterity. Signing on requires that I go to the desk and get a desk pass - which I do - and then sign on - for all of two minutes -- to check the weather...
Lesson learned -- or better said -- lesson known but reinforced:
If you can help the patron -- help the patron. You are the conduit between the patron and the information they desire. My request -- or at least my hint of a request -- was not something outrageous - and not something I should've been sent to a different floor to accomplish on my own. A minute long request wound up taking nearly 20 minutes...
It may be a tad bit spoiled of me -- but I'll remember this experience, and employ it - if ever I am to be employed...
BTW -- Storm passed about an hour later. Several trees were down and the houses at the head of the street where I was staying were completely without power -- a tree having crashed down on Coventry Street - knocking out the street light on Scott as well...
Apparently Juan intends to do this every 4th of July
Having a great time in Decatur, Georgia. Wish I could say the same for the pig...
One of my landmarks on the I-75 drive from Detroit to Atlanta...Story goes - the developer had thought building a mall was a sure thing -- so he had the water tower painted to say, "Florence Mall." Only some issues popped up - so the Mall was delayed - and the tower changed to its modern, "Florence Y'all"
