I’ve gotten the computer to input my student data---soon, I will control the world! No, but my life will soon be more organized and smooth-running. There are still some glitches and error messages connected to this process, but we will conquer them. My co-librarian almost did a dance, I think, she was so pleased. As am I.


There was a story on the local news Monday, about a new class offered to parents to teach them how to choose books for their children. At $320 for ten sessions, the course tells how to pick age-appropriate books, find good illustrations, recognize the merits of different types of books (board books, ABC’s, rhyming, etc.) and culminates in a field trip to a bookstore!

If the parents don’t have that kind of money, though, they could try going to the library, instead. If our public library programs aren’t gutted by budget cuts, these kinds of training groups will continue to meet community needs. And there would be no need to take a trip to a store---multiple possibilities are always right on hand.

On one hand, I was annoyed at the reporter for calling this class a story. The story is: libraries have always offered these programs, but they will disappear if budgets continue to be slashed. Then only those with extra cash can benefit.

On the other hand, libraries need to be aware of the various times of day and days of the week when caregivers are able to take advantage of these programs. The more flexible and inclusive a branch can be, the more people will participate---and grow to love their libraries more.

There’s no school this week, so no new school stuff to write about, of course.

My husband has just suggested that we should arrange our books at home according to color, to better show off the new paint job we just completed. How can I respond to that?

(It’s bad enough that they’re organized by size…)

Still sulking because the recent TV version of The Music Man was so terribly bad. It didn’t do anything new for librarians, that’s for sure. Except maybe in the tight-corseted-costume department. Otherwise it was just the same tired shushing and nose-in-the-air poor people skills that Marion has come to personify.

I thought Ms. Chenoweth’s voice was beautiful, but she seemed far too sophisticated and hard-edged for a small-town Iowan. The director’s choice of sticking a camera almost up her nose as she sang was distracting, as well. Additionally, I was just hoping for a little bit more humor. I know it can be done---Susan Stroman’s recent Broadway version was brilliant---witty and full of life.

And I know this is a revival, not a new show. So, of course I’m not looking for a new invention of the librarian image. But “revive” means bringing back to life, right?

In terms of promoting stereotypes, though, it was far more harmful to musicals! All across America, families were watching the Disnified production, wondering, “Why is this so boring?” People were dancing in the library, and yet there was no sense of recklessness or fun. Dull color, dull personalities, no urgency. “Oh, Dad, don’t make me watch any more musicals!” What a waste.

“Hey, check it out---this guy’s wearing Jordans, and the other’s got…”

I admit, I have no idea what the other guy was wearing on his feet. I was listening to my teen students talk, and when they go into sneaker-speak it’s all bleeeeep to me. What made this funny to me is that we were standing amidst a display of three hundred or so different books. This was the second of the RIF book give-away events. (Each kid gets a free book; we had to find interesting books at under $2.00 each; the selection is pretty great, actually; etc.) Two of my guys were bending closely over the illustration on a small paperback about who-knows-what. And what caught their attention---yes, the tiny illustrated sneakers on the two guys on the cover. Who knew the books were so fashionable.

Overall, the give-away went well. I spent all day doing it on Wednesday and also Friday. (Friday included moving the actual boxes of books out of the locked room and then back at the end of the day. While, by the way, listening to other teachers tell me what fabulously fun and exotic vacations they were about to go on, while I stay here in the cold. Plus, I still had twenty heavy boxes to pack up. Grrrr. I shouldn’t have asked.)

Sorry, I was talking about the RIF event. I heartily recommend that anyone running such an event take a day off from it between active days. The break allowed me to go back to it on Friday with energy and a little song rather than grudgingly, as to a workhouse. It was also good to see what books the kids were excited about. For example, Anne Frank’s Diary, books like “You Be the Jury,” any romances, anything basketball. One guy grabbed a “Real Stories of Strong Girls,” which he was quick to say “s’for my sister.” There was also a skinny biography of Ricky Martin. I noticed that most of the kids scoffed and moved on. But a few girls during the day jumped on it. Each one of them accompanied the grab with a high-pitched squeal. Exactly the same pitch. And the occasional picture-kissing.

On Thursday I had a chance to run around like a crazy person as I tried to spend the last-minute money. Let’s see, I spent about $1,800 in 24 hours. I’m on my relaxing vacation, now, so I won’t rant again about how evil the process is of getting money and rushing to spend it.

However, I should point out that if anyone wants to nominate me for the tv show “What Not to Wear,” I would be happy to spend $5,000 in a week or so of shopping for my own clothes. Really. (Check out the TLC/Discovery website to see what I mean.) According to an unscientific survey conducted by a colleague in Brooklyn, kids think that all librarians wear ugly shoes. This may have some truth in my case. [Large black walking shoe picture would be inserted here, if I were a little higher-tech here at home.] Wouldn’t it be funny---a librarian being secretly filmed to see if she needs a fashion makeover?

Speaking of stereotypes, I have to go now and set my VCR for tomorrow night’s broadcast of “The Music Man.” Don’t want to miss our song.

Oh, the games we play. Several of us high school librarians talking about insufficient funding one day; the next, a telephone call saying “wehave750dollarsforyouifyoucanspendittoday.” Before the clock strikes twelve, or something. Yes, I have a wish list, and it’s typed and ready. But who knew the high-powered world of education would have such stress? So I’m busy getting together another, last-ditch list. The things that I didn’t prioritize in my last order have another chance. Easy arithmetic gets more tricky when there’s a deadline.

At the same time, I’m trying to get the student data input properly so we can finish the Automating! As well as getting down to business with the never-returned materials. Student metrocards are now being held hostage. Is this legal? I don’t know, but it’s getting the attention of the parents. So now, the books are coming back. Weird.
AND we have another week of RIF book giveaways to organize ---on again, off again, oh, wait, it will happen tomorrow. So, forgive the delay in this blog…I’ve been getting to work on a lot of my “resolutions,” though, you see.

Should I question the practice of delivering money to libraries in such an urgent, last minute way? Is it strange that I had to make my own call to find out about yet another several hundred dollars? If I never heard about it, would it revert to the school budget to be spent on, I don’t know, a new printer for someone else’s office? This is just idle speculation, of course. But it doesn’t make me feel very well supported or professionally valued or calm. Is there another way? Just wondering.

The other night, I caught the last twenty minutes of the film Party Girl on tv. I haven’t seen it in a while, probably since around the time I was applying to library degree programs. In the movie, Parker Posey has one of my favorite scenes in a library: noticing a patron re-shelving a book incorrectly, she works herself into a frenzy, and ends up standing on a table, announcing “why don’t we just put the books ANYWHERE WE WANT!” (my paraphrase.) The part of the movie that hit me most this time, however, was near the end, where she’s pulling one book after another off the shelf in a quest to find masters program information. I remember where I was when I did the same thing---back at my “home” library, where I had listened to storytellers, been in summer craft programs and the book club, worked as a page, and done high school homework. After so many years away, it was the place where I took the first step to my current blissful (well, almost) situation in the high school library. I found her enthusiasm very touching. And her rave-y dancing at the end was cool, too.