Tinfoil + Raccoon

In Small Twits Forgotten

Way to blog, I know.  Get mentioned in a trade journal cover story on "Mattering in the Blogosphere," then disappear from my own blog. Not that I haven't been blogging. I've just been microblogging over at Twitter.  I've resisted writing a rah-rah post on Twitter because: a) It's not for everyone; b) it's like living in a small town where you like things just the way they are, and dread the inevitable growth and growing pains that come from everyone wanting a piece of the good thing they've been reading about. I will, however, explain what it is about Twitter that has so grabbed my time and attention.

Twitter has gotten a fair amount of bashing for being "stupid," "useless," "inane," "voyeuristic," and "masturbatory."  The only one of those descriptors I'll agree with is "voyeuristic."  I've made no bones about being a life-long voyeur.  I'm a figurative peeping tom who appreciates having access to telling glimpses into others' lives.  If I'm ever in your house, I will probably reflexively open your refrigerator just to see what you have.  Not because I'm hungry, but because if I'm in your house, I know you well enough to want to know more about you. 

I have managed to make a career out of voyeurism.  Being a reference librarian is the ultimate in voyeurism.  Anyone who has worked a reference desk, who has served drinks, who has cut hair, knows what I'm talking about. Those held hostage to a public audience by virtue of their employ hear the most amazing, intimate, mundane and alarming things.  For me, it's possibly the best part of my work as a librarian. I'm not so interested in big questions, deep feelings, philosophizing, and theorizing.  I love working with "patch guy," a man who comes in to the library nearly every day to scour eBay for racing and automotive patches.  I love getting the back story that comes with a question as simple as "can you look up a phone number for me?"  On Twitter, I love reading about what people are eating, watching, listening to, what they're doing at work. I love being the recipient of so much detritus. If you question the value of such microvoyeurism, let me tell you about the only other job that's made me as happy as librarianship.

For a very short time in my 20s, I worked as an archaeological assistant, and was giving serious consideration to making it my career before I found myself a mother-to-be. (Morning sickness and digging for 8 hours in the sun don't mix any better than having a baby and a job that keeps you away from home a week or more at a time.)  When people hear that I worked as an archaeologist, they imagine all sorts of glamorous things--dinosaur bones (sorry--that's paleontology), gold breastplates, undiscovered hominid fossils.  They are considerably less impressed when I tell them that I worked on historical sites digging up 150 year old garbage.  During my short career, I wrote one bit of research for an archaeological study.  It was a report on buttons.  That's right. Buttons. You can tell a lot about a community by the buttons they leave behind.  Wood, milk glass, shell, stamped metal--they all tell a different story.  With a handful of buttons, you can surmise socioeconomic status, study reciprocity and proximity and even take a guess at community philosophy (probably not a lot of fancy buttons among a Quaker community). 

My favorite things about gardening  have nothing to do with gardening itself. I mostly garden for the digging and discovery.  I have jars full of old garbage--crockery shards, broken bottles, marbles, nails--stuff that I've unearthed while digging various gardens.  Last week, I found a dog burial. What was supposed to be a simple sod scraping and shovel-depth soil turning, became a two-foot dig.  I'd probably faint with joy if I ever got lucky enough to find an old privvy.  Who we are is not just what we find in museums, or in albums carefully curated by those who hope to show the shiny, unblemished side of a life or of a  family.  Who we are, who we really are, is found in garbage piles and literally mixed with our sh*t. My favorite archaeology book is In Small Things Forgotten: An Archaeology of Early American Life by James Deetz who demostrates that we only learn about the past by studying the mundane.  Since the early 1970s, archaeologist William Rathje has been looking at garbage to learn about practices and behavior that  tell more about a community than observing and interviewing community members.

Is Twitter garbage?  Yeah, maybe. Is it useful?  Yeah, maybe. Just give me a keyboard and a shovel and get out of my way.

Nontoberfest

After posting a picture of “Accordion Man” on this blog, Sophie Brookover contacted me about writing a piece for Pop Goes the Library about La Crosse’s Oktoberfest. She and co-library popper Liz Burns are working on a book on pop culture and libraries, and Sophie thought I might have something to contribute, in that I'm a librarian in a town that boasts the biggest Oktoberfest in the US. I was game. After all, I’m a Wisconsin newbie, have some German heritage myself (who doesn’t), and a fondness for public spectacle that involves liquored-up people in costume.

The library tie-in? Um….I did see people in the library who dressed funny that week. And I worked with one patron who smelled strongly of fresh beer and who wanted a Chilton manual. He was also toting a huggie that held a foamy canned beverage. Finally, I had to ask, “Dude, are you drinking beer in the library?” As he slowly moved the huggie behind his back (slick move if you are in 3^rd grade), he said, “No, but I was drinking earlier.” Mind you, it was about 1 pm. But, hey, it was Oktoberfest, so I let it slide.

There were a couple Oktoberfest events at the library--a photo show and a needlework display--neither which were library-sponsored programs. I did make it downstairs to the photo show, hoping to find tons of photographs of Oktoberfests past and recent. But, it was a community photography contest, with few Fest photos. Here’s what I learned from the photo show: people sure love their cats (and their dogs to a lesser degree). Disappointingly, none of the cats were sporting lederhosen or jaunty Bavarian caps.

Aside from doing a count of sidewalk puke splats on my downtown lunchtime walk, and having a delightful evening of brats, beer and conversation at the Director Goddess’ house, we completely missed the Festing. I missed the Tapping of the Golden Keg. I missed the two parades. I did not make it down to Fest grounds for schnitzel or polka music or beer.

Rick Harney: Sculptor

My friend, Rick Harney, has just put up a website to show off some of his work.  To make a living, he does public installations in bronze, such as the Lincoln Bench, which I have an unnatural love for, but his non-commissioned stuff is way more fun. See page 2 for the "Caught with Their Pants Down" series.

How I know Rick is one of the reasons I like living in the same town I've been in most of my life.  In 1988, I left my job as an administrative assistant at ISU.  Rick's wife Betsy took over my position. I met Betsy after I went back to visit my old colleagues. I think I may have met Rick at someone's opening at the McLean County Arts Center.  Somewhere along the line we figured out that we both had kids with an Asperger diagnosis and have crossed paths that way.  And, Rick is my paint man for the rare occassions I have to buy expensive high-quality paint.  He was the one who gave me the thumbs-up on my olive/pink/purple combo for the bedroom.  (Photos when the job is complete.)  So, anyways, go have a look at Rick's great stuff.

Newish Blog: Neologasm

Neologasm is a blog dedicated to: "Promiscuous enjoyment of fresh, frisky, oh-so-lively new words."  Funny and clever stuff, especially to a word nerd like me.

Surprise: (Some) Girls Hate Barbie

British academic researchers discovered that little girls aren't necessarily sugar and spice and everything nice, in a survey about children's attitudes toward different products as part of a study on branding.

"The girls we spoke to see Barbie torture as a legitimate play activity, and see the torture as a 'cool' activity," said Agnes Nairn, one of the University of Bath researchers. "The types of mutilation are varied and creative, and range from removing the hair to decapitation, burning, breaking and even microwaving."

Gotta say....yep.  I read the above paragraph to the Raccoons, Jr., who both laughed out loud, with evil glee.  "You used to have a Barbie head collection!" enthused Juniorina to her big sister.  When I was 9 or 10, I remember tying Barbie up and chucking her out a 2nd story cardboard dollhouse window.  My sister looked at me as if I'd just committed the act against a real person.  This prompted me to march straight to my mother to confess, since I knew I'd be tattled on anyway.  I'd alway felt like this was some sort of indication of a dark, flawed psyche, but, hey!  I'm in good company.

"The meaning of 'Barbie' went beyond an expressed antipathy; actual physical violence and torture towards the doll was repeatedly reported, quite gleefully, across age, school and gender," she said.

Society for Handheld Hushing (SHHH)

Thank goodness I didn't have an extra fifty cents to buy the local news rag this morning when I went out for  coffee.  Instead, I found a graphic design magazine, HOW,  that someone had left behind.  To be sure, it was eye-candy, and it also made me covetous of the work environments and models found in the field, but I also found an article about the best-ever cell phone hush-up cards.  We have some at the ref desk, but they are very polite, and not particularly useful for their intended purpose.  I wonder if I would have the nerve to hand out these cards, from the Society for Handheld Hushing (a side project of Coudal Partners,  a design firm in Chicago)?

On Being Poor: John Scalzi via Library Dust

Much appreciation to Michael for catching John Scalzi's Chicago Tribune catalog of what it means to be poor (and for expounding on it, in his usual lovely way). If you work in a library and have never been truly poor, I think it's important to read this piece.

Every once in awhile, when I'm in line at the grocery store, and I see a mom pull out a WIC voucher, or an old man use a LINK card (food stamps for the uninitiated),  I am gripped by the same anxiety and discomfort I experienced during the few years I was a single parent with two young children and subsisted on food stamps, the kindness of friends, and a small amount of child support.

I also grew up lower-middle class, and sometimes we fell into poverty, like the winter my dad was laid off and my mom's factory was on strike. I can easily add to Scalzi's list.

• Being poor is kidney beans and fried potatoes for supper every night.
• Being poor is getting a doll and a bag of candy with an orange in it at the annual unemployed laborers' children's Christmas party.
• Being poor is a box full of too-big or too-small hand-me downs from a nice lady down the street.
• Being poor is having a house where the curtains blow in the winter because there are no storm windows.
• Being poor gets you used to that look of pity from teachers, neighbors and pastors; and to the teasing about your rotten old shoes from your classmates.
• Being poor is buying a lottery ticket with your last dollar of the week.
• Being poor is feeling insecure and out of place, even after you've stopped being poor.

Cultural Communities Fund Needs Your Help

As a proud member of the American Library Association's Public and Culture Programs Advisory Committee (PCPAC), I come to you, Raccoon Readers, with my tin cup extended.      

The Cultural Communities Fund is an endowment fund created to help all types of libraries across the country bring communities together through cultural programming.  It is administered through ALA's Public Programs Office.  The library where I work has benefited tremendously from the Public Programs Office, both in grant funds and invaluable staff assistance.  With their assistance, we have built a great reputation in our community and the professional community as an active, successful, knowledgeable programming library.

One of the major accomplishments of the PPO this past year was to secure ALA's first-ever matching grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities.    The bad news side of the good news is that we were, and still are, short of meeting this 3-1 challenge grant.  We've been fortunate to pick up some major donors in the past month, but need more support.  I'm a devoted library programmer, and know, first-hand, the power and appeal of providing engaging programs, from documentary-based, scholar-led discussions to teen game nights.  I'm more than happy to answer any questions about the committee and the CCF, and gush at length about my experiences as a programmer, but since John N. Berry III has gone to bat for the cause, I'm going to let his editorial do the talking.  John's much appreciated piece appeared in the Aug. 15 Library Journal.

PPO has delivered programs to some 8000 libraries nationwide through grants it earned from such distinguished sources as the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) and the Wallace Foundation. Over its short history, PPO has raised about $10 million, which it has invested in an array of programs that have truly strengthened the position of public libraries all over the country. Those programs have brought more than ten million people into our facilities—most of whom were new to the institution—who now are library users and supporters.

The NEH has graciously extended our deadline to September 15, so it's crunch time.  My giving dollars are limited, but I support the CCF as much as I can.  If your library has ever received a grant through PPO, such as LIVE!,  NVR's fabulous video/discussion programs, Let's Talk About It or a Traveling Exhibit, please consider giving back a small bit.  Perhaps your Friends group would like to help!   

 

Library Offers RuneScape Game Day

This is a terrific, positive article from the Bartlesville Examiner Enterprise about a library serving its post-story hour youth  by hosting a game day during which teens could play RuneScape on the library's computers. For those who wonder why libraries should be offering this sort of activity, here's a very good one:

"We see all these kids come in every day and play games," says Cindy Yell, who works in Administration and Reference at the library and spearheaded the event with co-worker Carleen Huxley. "We love the games and like having [the kids] in the library, so why not make a special day that's going to make them feel a little more welcome?"

And another:

"Usually I'll play at home," says Kayla Nakayama, 14, "but I like coming here and playing at the library because there's a whole bunch more people here and I can meet new people."

Major kudos to the clueful librarians at the Bartlesville Public Library (OK)!  They even have a blog!

"Mindset" Tips for Teaching the Class of 2009

Great stuff on the Web4Lib list this week, including a pointer to this list of outdated cultural references from Beloit College developed by to Beloit College professor Tom McBride and administrator Ron Nief.   According to McBride:

“It is an important reminder, as faculty start to show signs of ‘hardening of the references,’ that we think about the touchstones and benchmarks of a generation that has grown up with CNN, home computers, AIDS awareness, digital cameras and the Bush political dynasty. We should also keep in mind that these students missed out on the pleasures of being tossed in the back of a station wagon with a bunch of friends and told to keep the noise down, walking in the woods without fearing Lyme Disease, or setting out to try all of the 28 ice cream flavors at Howard Johnson’s.”

Looking over the list sure gave me a "whoa!" moment. No wonder I get blank looks when I throw out those Petticoat Junction and Dean Martin references.  I have to say, though, that when I was younger, my cultural literacy, pop culture included, extended way beyond what I could remember as a toddler in the mid-1960s.   But, that's because I preferred to sit around and listen to my aunts and uncles talk about when they were growing up, and reading my mom's movie magazines to doing more kid-like things.  That's part of what makes me a very good librarian, I think.