The Library Irregulars

When I worked at a large urban library in the 70's and 80's, we had quite a few street people. That was the time of the sociological theory that people should be let out of the institutions if they were not dangerous to themselves or others, and allowed to find a place for themselves in the world. The place they found was the public library.

Some of them were too smelly, too hostile and violent, and too psychotic to be anywhere but in a padded cell. But they were regulars--and by that I mean that they came into the library every morning at 9 and left every evening at 9--the library was their home, the place where they felt most comfortable.

One day Richard came in, cigarette in hand, and asked, as usual, for the City Directory. I handed it to him and and told him smoking was not allowed in the library, so he ground his cigarette out in the desk calendar. Another time, a patron in the Reference room asked a regular to stop humming. The response? "I'll go and get my AK 47 and we'll see if I can hum or not." Since most library users weren't aware of the crazy element unless they were regulars themselves, the first patron didn't know enough to laugh it off. So a fist fight broke out, broken up by my cohort Peter, librarian and peace officer. AK 47 strode out yelling that he'd be back with his rifle. I informed Peter that I'd be hiding under the desk until further notice.

I have to admit, though, that for the most part we all had great affection for our regulars. They made us laugh, and that was welcome when one had spent two hours poring through the CFR (Code of Federal Regulations, for the uninitiated).

There was Head Transplant Man, who informed Anne that he desperately needed one, and wanted to know where he could get the procedure done. Although Mary and I begged her to usher him into our "clinic" in the back stacks, Anne simply humored him, and settled him down with some government documents, his favorites. There was the little guy who looked like Squiggy, who always asked for "the book with the plutonium cover" (The Congressional Directory). And one of our favorites, Jane, who drew a mountain range near the North Pole in the National Geographic Atlas. When we got a new edition, we kept the old one just for her, so she could continue to draw the world the way she saw it.

When I left that library for a smaller one, I discovered that it wasn't just urban libraries that drew the, shall we say, odd. Imagine my surprise when I walked through Information Services one day and found my old friend, Toenail Clipping Man...yes...clipping his toenails. Shoes and socks off, leg extended over the top of the library table, clipper making that loud, unmistakable clicking sound. I told him to stop that immediately and he, of course, accused me of following him from library to library to interfere with his grooming routine.

The library I work for now is smaller still--it fits the category of medium sized--but it's in a mixed suburban/urban community and, as Sue, Mistress of the Macabre and my Administrative Assistant, likes to say, "It's on the bus line." Though we have fewer of them, the eccentric and perverse and odiferous are well represented at our library.

Public libraries excel at providing a non-threatening atmosphere and, public servant and bleeding heart that I am, I'm rather pleased that the most alienated and lost among us find refuge there.

Emily Latella Explains Wealth Redistribution

As Emily Latella might say, "What's all this I hear about health redistribution?"

"Uh, excuse me. Emily?"

"Why should those of us who are in good health give some of our health away to people who don't have much? What if we get sick? Then what?"

"Miss Latella, that's...uh..."

"Sounds like a Communist plot to me! And another thing..."

"Emily, that's wealth-"

"What's that? Speak up!"

"That's WEALTH redistribution. Wealth. Redistribution."

"Oh. That's very different." Sweet little smile. "Never mind."

People seem to be that confused about what it was Obama actually said. He didn't say wealth redistribution. That was just something the Republican desperados seized upon when they heard him say, "Spread the wealth around."

I'm not surprised that they would try this tactic. What surprises me--and I suppose it shouldn't, given that the majority of voters reelected Bush in 2004, knowing what they knew--is the number of people who accept this interpretation, seeming to need him to have meant that he will take their hard-earned money and give it to the great unwashed.

Let's review, shall we? Wealth distribution, or redistribution, has been around since the dawn of time, to coin a phrase; monarchs used it liberally to keep their royal coffers filled for their wars and other adventures in power-gathering. Serfs and peasants were taxed, as were the aristocracy, though paying them off with part of the proceeds was part of the game, to keep them loyal. Henry VIII plundered church property and redistributed it to his loyalists, thus helping to keep the Tudors on the throne.

Robin Hood, whether real or mythic, was a creative reaction on the part of the powerless to this injustice--why shouldn't some outlaw redistribute the wealth of the rich to the most needy?

But redistribution of wealth has, since the late nineteenth century, been associated almost exclusively with socialism and communism. It's really just another riff on the old monarchical theme, in that the state seizes all production and goods--and the wealth thus obtained--pays the workers, and keeps the rest for the "common good." Its opposite is capitalism, wherein people are allowed to keep the profits from their labor, at whatever the market is willing to pay for it.

Taxes come into play in both systems. Taxes are the "wealth" everybody's so concerned about, although one can't help thinking that some people believe that Obama has a plan to plunder their personal savings. The whole point of taxes is to pay for the nation's foreign and domestic programs. There are two real questions: what is a fair method of taxation, and how should the taxes collected be spent? Should those who make (earn/inherit/invest) more, pay more? Or should we assume that if they get to keep more of their money, they will reinvest it in businesses and enterprises that create jobs and keep those in the middle- and lower-income brackets also earning? Or should there be a flat rate for everybody, regardless of income?

I have my opinions about all of these possibilities, which I'll go into at another time. When Obama threw off his line about "spreading the wealth" during his conversation with Joe the Plumber, he was castigating the Bush policy of giving tax breaks to the very rich--who, as a group, did not live up to their end of the bargain--and touting his own plans to give tax breaks to the middle class.

If people would apply their critical thinking skills in analyzing recent events, they would realize that the bailout of the banks and other financial institutions is really a buyout. Admittedly, it seems to have been the only way to avoid a complete meltdown, but what is more communistic than a state takeover of any industry? And this was perpetrated by the Republican Party, that bastion of defense against communism, necessitated by their eight-year strategy: lower taxes for those who would ordinarily pay the most, and spending taxes collected from the rest of us on the war and all its accoutrements, like lucrative government contracts for private companies with ties to administration insiders.

I'd rather my taxes not go there; I'd rather my "wealth" be redistributed to the returned veterans, and children at risk, and libraries, and a sane health insurance policy.

Wait a minute, maybe Emily Latella got it at least half right after all: not health redistribution, but health care redistribution...

Never mind.

Enough

I plan to vote for Obama in November. It comes as a surprise to me that I will do so almost reluctantly, rather than whole-heartedly and with deep political conviction. I have been a Democrat all my life, and yes, a protester and picketer for social justice causes, and would ordinarily be thrilled to cast my vote for the first African American with a legitimate chance to win.

McCain has never been an option for me--not ever, but especially not now, when his desperation has caused him to throw over his "maverick" status except in name only, and has brought about his craven selection of Sarah Palin as his running mate. I mean, I honestly believe that I could do a better job than she could, and believe me, I'm not qualified.

Nothing Obama has said or done in the campaign has helped to ameliorate my strong doubts about his readiness--he is untried and untested on this large a stage, and there is much to be done--and undone--to restore some semblance of the country we once revered. I still believe that Hillary was the best choice among all those who ran. If you care to see my reasons why, see my post "Why I am for Hillary" on the blog, "The Macavity Dialogues." (http://macavity dialogues.blogspot.com)

But my vote for Obama is my way of saying "Enough!" to Bush, Cheney, and the neo-cons who have spent the past eight years hacking away at the social compact comprised of all those programs that come under the umbrella of the New Deal. My vote will say "Enough!" to those who dismantled the Justice Department and turned it into a political patronage palace; "Enough!" to those who selfishly and stupidly prosecuted the first full-scale pre-emptive war in our nation's history and sent thousands to their needless deaths in a false cause; and "Enough!" to the religious bigots who have somehow convinced themselves that God is as small-minded and bitter as they are.

My vote for Obama will be one of hope--that he will demonstrate the extraordinary judgment that will be needed, and make sound choices in his appointments, and will use the office to unite rather than to divide. It's clear his election would be welcome around the world and would restore some hope that America can reclaim its status as a symbol of equality and opportunity.

I hope Obama will win, and I hope he will astonish me.

Coincidence or Divinely Inspired Theme?

Some days four or five of us show up at the library wearing the same color. As we remark about this to each other, someone else will arrive, off-color so to speak, and we all round on her demanding, "Didn't you get the memo?"

The movie "Terms of Endearment" came out within a year after my sister died of breast cancer. The situations were eerily similar: young mother with three children and a clueless husband. My sister did not have a whacky, righteously angry mother who drove across the beach with an ex-astronaut, but that's why movies are never exactly like real life. My other sister, a cousin who was like a sister to us, and I all saw the movie on the same weekend, but not with each other. After I recovered from copious weeping at the end of the film, I could not wait to get home and call them to say, "Don't see this movie! It's too devastating; you shouldn't see it yet." What happened was that we all called each other to give the same warning.

A couple of years ago I re-read Josephine Tey's marvelous book, "The Daughter of Time," in which she makes the case that Richard the Third got a bad rap. She blames the general historical assumption about his bad character and physical deformity on Shakespeare, pointing out that it was, after all, in his best interest to set the Tudors in a good light and more or less cover up their own suspicious activities in the matter. So I went and re-read his "Richard the Third," wanting to examine it again with Tey's perspective fresh on my mind. I found I couldn't; his luscious language and keen dramatic instincts obliterated my intention, and he basically swept me away. Not a month later, I caught Al Pacino's documentary about preparing for the role, "Looking for Richard." And then a few weeks later I saw the movie starring Ian McKellen. Set in the 1930's, it is rife with fascist overtones. But my point is that I didn't seek these movies out--they were offered serendipitously as part of some weird literary theme just for me.

As Jerry Seinfeld might say, "What's THAT all about?"

Now my favorite blogger PJ (http://wordinthewoods.blogspot.com. Check it out.) has just posted about a family dinner conversation about T.S. Eliot. This morning I opened the next book I'm going to read, Val McDermid's "The Torment of Others," and found this quotation from "The Four Quartets" as the introduction:

"But the torment of others remains an experience
Unqualified, unworn by subsequent attrition.
People change, and smile: but the agony abides."

Is another literary theme about to thread its way around me? I don't know, but I'm feeling an overwhelming urge to stop everything and pick "The Complete Works of T.S. Eliot" from my bookshelf and let this take me where it leads.

Sail Away Again (With Apologies to Milan Kundera)

This is another story about taking a ferry. I will get on any boat I can at any time I can. And until I come into my rightful millions and get my yacht, The Pirate Librarian, ferries will have to do. I suppose it's good practice for my final journey across the Styx, a crossing I hope is many years in the future, as I have many ferry rides yet to take.

My sister is visiting from Buffalo, and last week we took the ferry to Block Island. When we were kids, the whole family went every year. In those days (writing that phrase makes me fell like such an old codger!) the ferry left from Providence. It would meander down Narragansett Bay, put in at Newport to take on supplies and passengers, then cross the Sound to Block Island. I've written elsewhere (an essay in the book that resulted from the NEH project "What a Difference a Bay Makes") about the mystical, musical, magical experience of sailing back to Providence in the dark and watching the lights that flickered along either side of the Bay. For many years now, the only ferries to Block Island from the RI mainland (there's one from Connecticut) have departed from Galilee. I'd much prefer the longer sail from Providence, but I'll take what I can get.

Anyway, there we were on the top deck in rough and rocky seas, getting completely soaked from wind-whipped spray and loving it. Most of the passengers were on the lower, enclosed deck, but Margaret and I were perfectly content in the open air, though we had to shout to hear each other.

On the Island, we each had a Bloody Mary (having had the best one of our lives two years ago on BI and hoping to repeat the experience)and a leisurely lunch, and then poked about in the shops. We were nostalgic, invoking well-loved family memories; we were somber, sharing our current personal woes and views on politics and world events; we were silly, catching each other's looks and breaking into laughter: We were sisters.

This is probably the source of my abiding love for sailing anywhere, but especially to Block Island. I've made this trip with my parents and sisters, with my friends, with my late husband and later with my in-laws. Even when I've gone alone, I've carried them all with me. They are not a burden; instead of weighing me down, the memories fill me with a bearable lightness of being.

Adventures in Grammar

When I taught sophomore English many years ago, we had a vocabulary component. They had to learn 15 to 20 new words a week, and every Thursday I would give them a quiz on ten of these words. They had to define the word, then use it in a sentence to demonstrate they understood it in context. "Ebb," one girl wrote. "To fall off, or recede slowly." So far so good. Then she wrote this sentence: "The book ebbed off the table." A few minutes after I read this, I picked myself off the floor, having ebbed off my chair.

Thus began my long dark journey into the terrifying world of fractured syntax, words and phrases used out of context, punctuation free-for-all, disagreement between subject and verb and subject and modifier, and the ever-popular split infinitive.

I have received cover letters with resumes assuring me the writers have "alot" of experience working with the public. I have read menus offering "potatoes' au gratin" and wondered how potatoes can have au gratin and if it is a condition we should look for in potatoes. People have told me that someone gave the books to "she and I." OW. It hurts even to write that.

Most of the people who commit these grammatical faux pas (pas's?) are educated; some to Master's degree level. I'm convinced the difference between those who can write a simple English sentence and those who wander around in verbal airspace, never actually coming in for a landing, is the habit of reading regularly. Reading lifts the imagination and provokes critical thinking. But its by-products are equally important: one learns without necessarily meaning to--perhaps by osmosis--how to spell, how to punctuate, how to express oneself clearly and concisely in speech and writing.

I intend to write here occasionally about some of the common mistakes that drive me crazy and to share some simple ways to correct them. How, for example, to know whether to use "less" or "few." Oh, all right, I'll do that one now: "Less" refers to volume or general quantity; "few" to specific numbers of items. There is less water in the pitcher, so we'll be able to fill fewer glasses. People know not to say "fewer water in the pitcher," but they have no problem with "less glasses." Sports reporters are constantly reporting about "less" people in the stadium for tonight's game. Stop that! It's hurting my ears!

There is more, so much more, but I must stop now as I'm falling off, receding slowing....I'm ebbing.

Questions I Wish They'd Ask the Candidates

Many citizens believe that in the past eight years government departments and policy decisions have been sullied by political interference, and hope that the next Administration will attempt to undo some of this.

Do you believe political considerations should enter into appointments to the Justice Department or any department, and if so, to what extent?

Do you believe scientists and scholars should have the freedom to explore and experiment, and to publish their studies and conclusions without reference to a political or religious agenda? If not, why not?

Do you believe that issues of security trump civil liberties? Where would you draw the line in balancing this? Are there any parts of the Patriot Act you would rescind, or do you wholeheartedly support it?

What is your definition of political leadership, and can you give an example from your own experience? What is your definition of political courage, and can you give an example from your own experience? Which of our presidents do you admire for their political leadership and their political courage?

Our war in Iraq is a reality, and most of us know that the question before us is how best to proceed from this point--whether to end it and how, or whether to define an acceptable outcome and to work to achieve it, regardless of how long it takes. Nevertheless, this question is worth asking our next leaders: What is your view on pre-emptive attacks on other countries?

What books have you read in the last year? If any, which would you recommend and why?



These are just a few of the questions I'd like to pose. And if I could moderate just one debate, I wouldn't let them get away with mindless repetitions of bromides like "reform," "change," "hope for the future."

Come on, people! This may be the most important election of our lifetime! Let's put at least a little thought into this.