Going Inkless

     There is a particular sound that a guitar string makes when the guitarist slides his finger into the next position.  It's nothing more than a tiny squeak in the background of the music, but it's a sound I will dearly miss if I should ever go deaf.  I mentioned it in an earlier post about music , and recently, a CD with an acoustic guitar focus has me contemplating the reasons for my warm response to it.  Why, beyond a general love of music (and, really, have you ever encountered someone who doesn't  like music?) does this particular sound always make me smile?      Physiologically, there may be some response completely separate from the thinking world.  We have negative reactions to certain low frequency sounds that make us feel uneasy, so I'm sure there are other frequencies that can produce a positive response.  It's a possibility that the appeal is nothing more than good vibrations, scientifically speaking.  Then...

Apologies, first of all, because this post is not as constructed as I generally offer.  It's more or less off the top of my head, but the topic is one I've been thinking about lately, and I wanted to record those thoughts despite my lack of free quiet time over the past few weeks.      The general rule with social interaction is that you avoid speaking of religion or politics.  It's usually a wise rule because these are two areas people feel passionately about, and those who give the subjects that weight are frequently unwilling to listen to opposite opinions.  Yet, because they concern the things we believe, and because they are that important to us,  I think we may be missing out on opportunities to enrich ourselves when we choose to avoid those conflicts.  I tend to stick with the rule except when I'm with people I know are open to honest exploration.  But here, I guess you can always opt to stop reading if you don't agree, so I'm going ...

     Day to day, I watch the tides of interlibrary loan.  Books and media of all sorts move in and out of my department.  Other libraries' items flow in for our patrons, and our items flow out for others.  The variety is amazing.  Just this past week, we have received or sent items on a wide range of topics, including art, history, religion, science, economics, and psychology.  Materials in multiple languages have crossed my desk - English, Spanish, Polish, Mandarin Chinese, Hindi, French, and Gujarati.  In addition to the novels, movies, music and children's books of all flavors, we have facilitated access to books on subjects as diverse as woodworking, philosophy, teaching methods, and real estate.  Practical matters like nutrition, car repair and sewing were represented as were academic studies like chemistry and medicine.  Our patrons are interested in everything from computer programming to learning Korean to politics and world...

     At times, I take great comfort in my capacity to be wrong.  My daughter regularly counted on that quality when she was growing up.  Often, my first answer to a request for permission on one thing or another was instinctively "no".  Mothers are protective of their little ones and wary of potential dangers in all things "fun".  But my daughter learned that if she kept trying, that "no" might eventually swing around to a reluctant "yes".  All children try this tactic, and many a parent has been worn down by a persistent plea.  If she had gone the usual route, however, I doubt she would have had much success.  Repetition, begging or whining would have broken on an unyielding wall of stubbornness and only strengthened my resolve.  But calm, reasoned arguments would always find a way in, and she could be very good at that.      Often, the fears that prompted a negative response could be eased with logical counterargu...

     Over the years, I have observed a kind of snobbery relating to forms of entertainment.  It is assumed that the only true or worthy art is in books and that classic literature is the height of that.  Modern works are, of course, less valuable than older ones because we've lost so much intellect, grace and elegance since those golden days. There are those who proudly announce at every opportunity that they don't watch television or that the only movies they see are documentaries.  The conclusion is that everything else is worthless tripe that could only be enjoyed by those of lesser intelligence than the snob.      The prejudice even extends to those who guiltily enjoy movies rather than "cinema", non-educational television, or "lesser" literature like comic books or science fiction.  Often, they seem almost apologetic or ashamed when they judge their choices as the candy of artistic offerings rather than the vegetables. ...

The standard answer my Grandma would give whenever one of us kids would complain about the cold was one simple question.  "What are you gonna do when winter comes?"  To this day, it replays in my mind every time I notice a chill or hear someone comment on the frosty weather.  "What are you gonna do when winter comes?" It sounds curt, unsympathetic, or maybe a little cold, but the response was always delivered with kindness.  I assure you, she did care about our comfort.  She was concerned about red cheeks and noses when we came in from hours of snowball wars, from tunneling through drifts or climbing the snow covered wood pile in order to reach the low-hanging icicles.  She fed us hot cocoa and gave us warm socks for Christmas like any other grandmother.  The question was more a matter of philosophy - in far fewer words than I might use, but that was part of her Grandma magic, I guess.  She was succinct, often with a touch of humour, and she let...

One of the advantages of my work is that I get to see what people are reading.  In the course of handling requests, I get a feel for what's trendy at a certain time, at least among readers in my area.  I'm exposed to new ideas and reminded of old ones I may not currently be considering.  There is not, contrary to what some may think, any time for reading while working in the library.  However, you do get a dose of serendipitous mental stimulation through titles, blurbs or cover art as the books pass through your hands.  A few days ago, a group of Christmas craft books crossed my desk, including one that was solely about holiday decorations made from felt.  Seeing the cheery but simple ornaments displayed on the cover reminded me of my daughter's first Christmas. She was a day short of one month old then.  My first husband and I were young parents, scraping to get by on the type of salary being young affords.  We were living in a tiny ramshackle ...