Tag: librarians

The Beekman Boys; and my librarian ways

I had a margarita, one of the few times I want added salt.

beekmanboysAfter breakfast at the Limestone Mansion in Cherry Valley, NY, the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, Loretta, the co-owner, asked The Wife and me if we were going to the Sharon Springs Garden Party. We had no idea what the heck she was talking about. In the nearby town of Sharon Springs, there have been events in the spring and fall that the whole town is involved with.

But before hopping into the car, we decided to stroll, first uptown to the library, which was closed because there was a book sale downtown. (These are not great distances; the population of the village was 520 at the 2010 Census.)

No, I DON’T need any more books. Still, in addition to signs for buy different books based on various criteria, they had one that said. “Book bag – $10. Bookbag filled with books – $10.” I cannot resist. Got some books for the Daughter. The Wife’s great find was a recipe book of the great inns of the area. I always wanted to read The Hornet’s Nest by Jimmy Carter, the first work of fiction ever published by a U.S president. Somehow, I find myself helping one of the organizers put together the books by Nora Roberts, James Patterson, Patricia Cornwell, and other fiction authors. I had such comradery with these people who, twenty minutes earlier, were total strangers. My efforts were appreciated, which was extremely affirming.

Then we drove about seven miles to the Sharon Springs school, where buses brought us the mile or so into town. Lots of great vendors. At least two of them were using something called Square to accept my credit card, whereby I sign using my fingertip. Unfortunately, the rains came, but we hung out on the lengthy front porch of The American Hotel, a once-beat-up old building that has been revitalized, as has the town.

As the rains let up, we wandered over to Beekman 1802 Mercantile, this upscale chichi store with goat cheese, fancy soaps, and the like. It was really crowded, and I stood off to the side, as I watched who I thought was one of the salespeople, most clearly from New York City. In fact, it turned out to be Brent Ridge (above right), one of the owners, with Josh Kilmer-Purcell, of the store. Ah, these were The Fabulous Beekman Boys, who bought a farm in 2007, have had a reality show about the said farm (which I haven’t seen), WON the reality show The Amazing Race in 2012 (ditto), and got married in the spring of 2013. The Wife enjoyed the store experience more than I, who was feeling a tad claustrophobic.

We returned to the Limestone, then planned to make reservations for dinner, but our cellphones NEVER worked in either Cherry Valley or Sharon Springs; Verizon, si, Virgin Mobile, no, we later learn. Decided to chance walking to The Rose and Kettle, based on its great reviews, but, already at 6 p.m., it was already booked.

We went across the street to the Cantina de Salsa. It too was booked, but we could, and did, sit and eat at the bar. I had a margarita, one of the few times I want added salt. My bride had a Sangria, with orange juice squeezed fresh in front of us. He had just a little left over which he put in a mini shot glass for me; can’t tell you why, but it was funny, which was what he was going for.

The guy next to me, obviously a regular, left for a time to see a lady about a cat; his mom’s cat had died after 18 and a half years. He came soon thereafter because the lady was making a pot pie.

Somehow, the lyrics from a song from Oklahoma! came up: “It’s a scandal! It’s a outrage!” I noted the intentional linguistic error, and Cat Guy asked if I were an English teacher. I said, no, but my wife is. He concluded that her skills have rubbed off on me.

The bartender, who I suspect was an owner, or THE owner, was bright, attentive, and entertaining. I can think of only one specific example. Cat Guy made some comment, and just then the Stray Cats came on the radio, which he noted, and I appreciated the segue.

The food was good too and filling. At the end of our time there, the bartender said that he really appreciated serving us, and that was not “just a default line.”

We needed to walk off dinner, so we wandered around town looking for an apparently non-existent payphone. As we came back by the Cantina, Cat Guy was out front, so I asked if HIS cellphone worked here. It did, and I called my in-laws to make plans for Sunday brunch. I didn’t hear this, but Cat Guy was so impressed that I remember that his mom had had the cat for 18 years; I actually remembered the half, but it seemed too weird. In any case, he said that she must be lucky to have such a great listener as a husband. What else could she do but agree?

That was the second time that day we had borrowed a telephonic device. The first was a table at the Garden Party when a young woman offered to call the Tryon Inn so we could make Sunday reservations; she is friends with the new chef. That meal was also quite good. Afterward, we got to meet the sous chef, who has been cooking for 13 years, though she’s but 20; and the aforementioned young chef.

A lovely weekend. (A sidebar story to come.)

Information with a Bun and the Sexy Librarian trope

“To move in public spaces and do their jobs, librarians — along with schoolteachers and nurses — had to wrap themselves in an aura of absolute respectability. “

pretty-librarian-working-on--11982029My blog in the Times Union local newspaper, with content, often reprinted from this blog, or noting stuff of primarily local interest, is called Information Without the Bun. Came up with this title in about five minutes when the blog coordinator, Michael Huber, insisted on a name. The title was to evoke two ideas: 1) having the meat without a hamburger bun, and 2) the antithesis of the stuffy, usually female, librarian that shushed people all the time.

Recently, I saw Dustbury link to an interesting article called Unpacking an Erotic Icon: The Sexy Librarian, which got me thinking about that trope. In linking to the article, Dustbury proclaimed: “I thought it was because she was, um, smart.” Yeah, me, too; I find smart women almost inherently sexy. I tend to root for the good female JEOPARDY! players when I watch the show.

The article by Dustin (Oneman) delves a bit deeper:

While the role of librarian has existed for a good long while… the modern librarian, the modern female librarian, dates back to the late 19th century and specifically back to Melvil Dewey, he of the decimal system that bears his name. Dewey was a strong advocate for the use of women as librarians, not out of any sense of gender justice but because, as proprietor of a company that sold a system of receiving, cataloguing, shelving, finding, and checking out books that promised to transform the library into a hyper-efficient book-lending machine, he felt that men would chafe under the monotony of the job. Women, he felt, were ideally suited to the mindless task of working in a modern, Dewey-ized library.

Bringing women into public life in the late 19th and early 20th century was not, however, without challenges. Women who left the domestic sphere were branded disreputable, their bodies assumed to be offered up to the (male) public. Actors, dancers, mill workers, field hands — all took on the aura of the prostitute…

To move in public spaces and do their jobs, librarians — along with schoolteachers and nurses — had to wrap themselves in an aura of absolute respectability. Unlike factory workers, actresses, store clerks, secretaries, and farm workers, who dwelled in the working classes or in the bohemian demimonde of the arts, librarians, nurses, and schoolteachers moved among the middle and upper classes. No hint of disrepute could be endured, and their respectability was secured by thoroughly de-sexing themselves through clothing, behavior, and hairstyle.

Particularly hairstyle.

Thus, the female librarian (and nurse, and schoolteacher) with a bun was a symbol of chastity, respectability. It was, I’m guessing, necessary to be taken seriously in the job they did. Because men are, well, like men often are.

The question remains, though, of why these icons have survived even as the reality of these professions has changed radically, shedding the desexualizing camouflage as women have gained more acceptance in the public sphere…

But the sexy librarian is still very much with us. She exists in movies, TV shows, commercials, porn, adult magazines, erotica, and the fevered imagination of men who date librarians. She quite often gets in the way of real librarians doing their jobs.

I DO know female librarians who have talked about embracing the sexy librarian trope, though, in a way to counteract the bun lady trope because it’s difficult for patrons to take bun lady seriously. And control of the sexy image is, in its own way, empowering to them.

Dustin, I imagine, would disagree:

In the end, the icon of the sexy librarian is about disempowering women who dare not only to move through public spaces but to exercise power, however limited (through the iconic librarian’s iconic “shhhh!”), by unveiling and conquering the sexual being hidden beneath her unassuming exterior. The image of the sexy librarian reminds us that, regardless of their appearance or accomplishments, women are first and foremost sexual objects. And that’s pretty much business as usual for American masculinity.

Hmm. So this gets me to wondering whether the title Information Without a Bun was an inadvertent sexist title. (I HAVE been accused of thinking too much on occasion.)

Occupation: writer

I guess I am a writer, in that I write.

One of the fascinating things I’ve observed for a long time is how well – or not – people know each other, even when they see each other on a regular basis. I was reminded of this last month, during a break at church choir rehearsal. I made an offhand remark about the trials of being a librarian. One of the choir members, who’s been there a couple of years, said, “But you’re not really a librarian, are you?” And I looked at another choir member, who has been to the office where I work as a librarian, with a mutual puzzlement.

“Oh, yes, I am,” I noted. And the other choir member confirmed this. “Oh, I thought you were a writer.” I said that I’ve been doing the librarian thing for over two decades.

But being mistaken as a writer – even a writer she evidently didn’t read, or read often – is NOT the worst thing in the world. I guess I am a writer, in that I write. I don’t get paid for writing very often, probably not at all in 2013. Still, I WRITE. Somehow, this tickled me.

Now, you all know I’m a librarian, right? Some of you – you probably know who you are – DO know me better than people I see every week, or even every weekday. I find this an endlessly interesting sociological phenomenon.

Talk Like a Pirate, but don’t walk the plank

The Pirates, who had not had a winning season since 1992, got to 81 wins, then had a four-game losing streak, before winning #82 last week.

It suddenly occurred to me a while back that all these deals whereby you get something, and you are required to pay for it over and over (and over and over) again through mandated leases, such as Software as a Service (SaaS), are forms of corporate piracy. As my buddy Steve Bissette ranted – I think it was regarding a policy by Adobe or Microsoft: “We can afford them once and that’s what we can afford. We want to own almost all things we buy. With few exceptions, we don’t wish to buy or support those things which do not wish to be purchased outright. We do not need more monthly bills. We do not wish to interact with you regularly for permission to be permitted to use what we purchase to use.”

Did you know you can’t buy an electronic copy of the Oxford English Dictionary? It is “only available as monthly rentals, services that come with expansive data-collecting policies and which cannot be owned.” Cory Doctorow “mentioned this to some librarians at the American Library Association conference in Chicago this spring and they all said, effectively: ‘Welcome to the club. This is what we have to put up with all the time.'”

Speaking of whom: The site for Cory Doctorow’s 2012 novel Pirate Radio, which I have not read, makes it sound intriguing. “When Trent McCauley’s obsession for making movies by reassembling footage from popular films causes his home s internet to be cut off, it nearly destroys his family. Shamed, Trent runs away to London. A new bill threatens to criminalize even harmless internet creativity. Things look bad, but the powers-that-be haven’t entirely reckoned with the power of a gripping movie to change people’s minds…”

A sensible Internet policy platform.

Author Scott Lynch responds to a critic of the character Zamira Drakasha, a black woman pirate in his fantasy book Red Seas Under Red Skies, the second novel of the Gentleman Bastard series.

Democracy ruled under the Jolly Roger?
***
We’re talking baseball here: At the All-Star break, the St. Louis Cardinals were 57-36, .613. The Pittsburgh PIRATES were 56-37, .602. Since then, these two teams, plus the Cincinnati Reds have continued to be in a heated pennant race. One of the teams will win the National League Central Division, and almost certainly, the other two will play a one-game playoff. The Pirates, who had not had a winning season since 1992, got to 81 wins, then had a four-game losing streak, before winning #82 last week, breaking that terrible string. I’m rooting for them. How could I not?

A librarian’s nostalgia

Guess what I miss is the human interaction of digging out the data by finding the right person at the right place with the right info.

I don’t think of myself as a nostalgic person. Sure, I play the music of the 1960s through the 1980s a lot. That’s not rooted in the historical recall, though; I’m OFTEN playing the music of that period. I’m playing Beatles thrice a year, at least.

Whereas how we did reference where I work as a business librarian has changed radically in the 20 years I’ve been there. What sent me down memory lane was the loss of power our building experienced last week. The librarians had these paper vertical files we hadn’t added to since 2005, since we now deal with digital documents. Finally, with little better to do, we started the process of dumping the paper documents, and it was the correct thing to do.

Once upon a time, we did not even have an Internet connection, not that there was much information available. E-mail was not something that everyone had.

In order to find out the answers to our questions, we did a search on some half dozen databases we paid for. They were available on CD-ROMs which went into a Local Area Network so that all seven of us could access the data at the same time. This was WAY better than the predecessor model, where we would have to wait our turn to get to the single CD-ROM terminal. No, I DON’T miss THAT.

What triggered the nostalgia was the other information in the folders we were tossing. We would find the name of an association, or perhaps a governmental entity, and try to find out the answer to our clients’ questions. Often, we could get them to fax – remember the fax? – to us information about the industry. They might even mail us material. My sense, in terms of the associations, is that they believed, not incorrectly, that if they gave us a little bit of information that we shared, they would get more members of their organizations. So throwing out those documents we wheedled out of these people made me just a tad melancholy.

Thanks to the Wood Pallet Association, which gave us info on those functional, but hardly noted, items. Always appreciated the information we got from the various ratite associations. Don’t know what a ratite is? Neither did I, until 1994, when we got a wave of questions about starting ostrich, emu, and rhea farms.

Guess what I miss is the human interaction of digging out the data by finding the right person at the right place with the right info. What I have noticed, particularly with the government, is that they put all the information on the website. Or they SAY the info’s there; often it’s not, or inaccessible, or incomprehensible even if I DO discover it. Now and then, I need to be on the phone, but most of that time is gone, and it’s just a little less joyful a little less fun.

Of course, a lot of those associations might be less willing these days to part with their information. I noted one group in particular, what used to be the Christian Booksellers Association and now goes by CBA. Early on, it was a great source of the types of Christian books and other accessories (crosses, e.g.) sold at specialty bookstores. At some point, though, their accountant must have told them they’d be better of monetizing the information they had been giving away. I don’t really fault them, but it was too bad.

The only thing I actually saved from the vertical file dumping is a chapter of Introduction to Reference Work (1992) by my reference library professor, the late William Katz. It was the chapter on The Reference Interview, essentially how does the librarian ask the questions of the patron to elicit the right direction for the information search. Over two decades later, it seems still relevant, about mutual respect, and realizing that “the original question put to [librarians] by a user is rarely the real question.”

Ramblin' with Roger
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