An Abundance of Books, and Parenthesis
Yesterday, Elisa called to ask if I wanted to go to the library. I did not want to go to the library. But I felt somehow morally compelled to go, realizing that I really have no room to complain about the price of books and movies if I don't take advantage of free books and movies when they become available. So, to maintain the moral high ground (and preserve my right to complain), I grabbed a hoodie and headed out.
I've avoided the library for several years now. This seems odd, since I'm 1) sort of a reading addict and 2) poor. The primary reason was that I checked out an audio book (something Jane Austen-y, I think) in 2001 and promptly lost one of the cassettes. I've assumed I'd been blackballed by the Jefferson County library system, and that I'd have to pay a six-year fine (or at least pay for the audio book) in order to have my privileges reinstated. In fact, all I had to do was apply for a new card and fail to mention the existence of the old one. Voila -- clean slate (and guilty conscience, but whatev).
So, new library card in hand, I waltzed into the downtown library (if by "waltz" you mean practically running to keep up with Elisa, who seemed to think we were in some kind of foot race). I promptly remembered why I don't like the library.
First off, it smelled kind of like moth balls ... and also like a school cafeteria. Since moth ball smell is strongly associated with the elderly, and school cafeterias are reminiscent of children, I'm sure you'll agree that this combination rather unpleasantly brings to mind the futility of youth and the inevitability of mortality. Or maybe it's just me.
Anyway, I went directly to the Fiction Movies section, because the real reason I'd dragged myself away from my apartment was that my Netflix is late (okay, I'd only just mailed it that afternoon, but I already wanted another one). I chose Raising Helen, Tadpole and Casanova, which should tell you something about their movie selection (i.e. that it is crappy).
To kill time, I decided to look at some books. I looked for The Arsonist's Guide to Burning Down Author's Houses in England (or whatever that title is). I did not find it, but I did pick up Him Her Him Again the End of Him (recommended by Steve Martin, which is a strike against it in my mind) and The Reluctant Fundamentalist (recommended by Philip Pullman, which is definitely a plus). I started with the former and it is pretty excellent and very funny, despite poorly chosen cover art.
Elisa says the rest of the library was pretty rad (my word, not hers) and that they had lots of excellent craft books. Elisa checked out, oh, 500 or so of those titles, so their crochet and quilting sections may be a bit depleted at the moment.
Also the boy librarians were cute, and one of them looked exactly (eerily) like Jimmy (except only from the back: his face was different and his pants where longer). I thought I'd give pseudo-Jimmy my number, but finally decided the similarity might be too confusing. And also I remembered I'd never, ever have the guts to hit on a librarian (or anyone), so the issue was kind of moot.
I guess the point (yes, there is one) (no, there's not, I was kidding) is that I'm not really sold on the library, but I'm not sure why. They have lots of free books and movies, and those are my favorite things. Maybe the thrill is gone when I'm not actually purchasing and owning said books. Maybe it's because, despite a third grade tutorial and a particularly tedious (but informative) plot structure in a Lemony Snicket book, I still don't understand the Dewey Decimal System. Maybe it's just because the smell reminds me of the fragility of life.
But I'm enjoying my books. I will return to the library (my books are due, after all), and I hope to give it a second chance. Until then, I'm going to watch Raising Helen and see what life lessons I can learn from Kate Hudson.
I've avoided the library for several years now. This seems odd, since I'm 1) sort of a reading addict and 2) poor. The primary reason was that I checked out an audio book (something Jane Austen-y, I think) in 2001 and promptly lost one of the cassettes. I've assumed I'd been blackballed by the Jefferson County library system, and that I'd have to pay a six-year fine (or at least pay for the audio book) in order to have my privileges reinstated. In fact, all I had to do was apply for a new card and fail to mention the existence of the old one. Voila -- clean slate (and guilty conscience, but whatev).
So, new library card in hand, I waltzed into the downtown library (if by "waltz" you mean practically running to keep up with Elisa, who seemed to think we were in some kind of foot race). I promptly remembered why I don't like the library.
First off, it smelled kind of like moth balls ... and also like a school cafeteria. Since moth ball smell is strongly associated with the elderly, and school cafeterias are reminiscent of children, I'm sure you'll agree that this combination rather unpleasantly brings to mind the futility of youth and the inevitability of mortality. Or maybe it's just me.
Anyway, I went directly to the Fiction Movies section, because the real reason I'd dragged myself away from my apartment was that my Netflix is late (okay, I'd only just mailed it that afternoon, but I already wanted another one). I chose Raising Helen, Tadpole and Casanova, which should tell you something about their movie selection (i.e. that it is crappy).
To kill time, I decided to look at some books. I looked for The Arsonist's Guide to Burning Down Author's Houses in England (or whatever that title is). I did not find it, but I did pick up Him Her Him Again the End of Him (recommended by Steve Martin, which is a strike against it in my mind) and The Reluctant Fundamentalist (recommended by Philip Pullman, which is definitely a plus). I started with the former and it is pretty excellent and very funny, despite poorly chosen cover art.
Elisa says the rest of the library was pretty rad (my word, not hers) and that they had lots of excellent craft books. Elisa checked out, oh, 500 or so of those titles, so their crochet and quilting sections may be a bit depleted at the moment.
Also the boy librarians were cute, and one of them looked exactly (eerily) like Jimmy (except only from the back: his face was different and his pants where longer). I thought I'd give pseudo-Jimmy my number, but finally decided the similarity might be too confusing. And also I remembered I'd never, ever have the guts to hit on a librarian (or anyone), so the issue was kind of moot.
I guess the point (yes, there is one) (no, there's not, I was kidding) is that I'm not really sold on the library, but I'm not sure why. They have lots of free books and movies, and those are my favorite things. Maybe the thrill is gone when I'm not actually purchasing and owning said books. Maybe it's because, despite a third grade tutorial and a particularly tedious (but informative) plot structure in a Lemony Snicket book, I still don't understand the Dewey Decimal System. Maybe it's just because the smell reminds me of the fragility of life.
But I'm enjoying my books. I will return to the library (my books are due, after all), and I hope to give it a second chance. Until then, I'm going to watch Raising Helen and see what life lessons I can learn from Kate Hudson.
1 Comments:
Awwwww so sad. The library is one of my very favorite places. And I think there's several holds on that one book (the arsonist's guide to blahdiblahblah) - I'm one of them - but one of my FAVORITE things about the library is that I can request titles and have them delivered to the closest library, which is walking distance from my office. And that makes it even more fun.
Although I do love wandering the aisles and picking things at random. Sometimes when I have an urge to shop, I'll go to the library instead. It works for me. And then if I wish I could keep the book, I'll add it to my wishlist on paperbackswap.com.
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