Tag: library

A specific dream

phooey

I had a very specific dream last Saturday night—actually, Sunday morning, after which I woke up about 4:20 a.m. And I know the genesis.

An old friend of mine, whom I have known since 1977, Facebook messaged me at 11:34 a.m. Saturday morning. They indicated that their significant other would be playing music at a block party only a mile or two away between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m.

I wrote back: “Phooey – if I had known earlier, I would have planned for it.” This is to say that I would have been showered and dressed; I had been in the midst of the cleaning project.

The dream: Someone had taken a reference question and explained to me what the person wanted to discover about selling paper products. They were undercapitalized and not generating enough income.

I went to an adjacent room and felt I needed to use the desk. (Why, I don’t know.) Somebody else already had items on their desk: pens, papers, and a folded-over coat. I didn’t want to mess up their desk, so I decided to get my phone and take a picture of the top of the desk so that I could take everything off and then put everything back. Just at that point, my phone died.

Analysis

This dream was almost certainly about that friend, who no longer lives in the immediate area. They were among the people who had nagged me to get my Master’s in Library Science. We even worked together briefly. 

The paper products reference was about the items I’ve been dealing with, not very efficiently, in my office, things on top of things. 

I sense it was a missed opportunity dream. Maybe I should have just thrown on some clothes and taken a bus or Uber to the location to see my friend. Sometimes, it’s difficult for me to spontaneously shift gears when my mind has mapped out the day.

Being a remote business librarian

SYSOP

After I wrote about taking airplane trips, many of which were made possible by my job, I never really explained how being a remote business librarian at the New York Small Business Development Center worked.

The NY SBDC, as is true of the SBDCs around the country, offers free and confidential business advisement, from helping develop business plans to more complex operations.

Our SBDC had a part-time librarian who started in 1991. When the program received a grant to provide reference services, starting October 1, 1992, they had to gear up fast. The grad assistant, who had graduated, became librarian #2. I became librarian #3 on October 19 and the fourth person four days later.

Early on, we, designated as the Research Network, did the research and sent the information by – ready for this? – mail. The first innovation was when our databases went on a LAN or local area network. Previously, when we wanted to use a particular database, which was on compact discs, we had to wait our turn.

Eventually, we thought to try to send information via email. The trouble was, though email had existed for some years, it was slow to be introduced to some college campuses, where most SBDCs resided.

I recall specifically that some of our field advisors had come to our Central office in 1994 or 1995. My officemate sent me an email to me. One advisor said, “But why would one do that?” Noting the ten feet of distance between my office mate and me, “He’s right THERE.”

Early on, one of my responsibilities was to operate an electronic bulletin board or BBS. I was to be the SYSOP or systems operator. A couple of things: I never knew that I was in charge of it before I was hired, and I had no idea how to do it. Kevin, one of the techies in the office, trained me as best he could. Eventually, we abandoned the technology, thank goodness.

Editor

Another job was to edit a newsletter to send to the state programs in the hope that they’d, in turn, distribute it to their local offices. Some of the content was the Research Network either touting our services or offering advice.

The article I remember best was a woman who worked for the SBDC in Oklahoma City. She was severely injured from flying glass and debris following the terrorist explosion at the nearby Murrah Federal Building in April 1995. It was a very touching narrative.

When we learned the NY SBDC lost the library contract to the UT San Antonio SBDC in 1998, we were very sad, of course. We had a Christmas party in September. By that point, we had seven librarians. One took another job, and two were laid off.

Four of us remained to provide reference services for the NY SBDC, with much more significant technological growth. But that’s a story for another day.

Boxing Day 2023

my ever-present past

in process

Boxing Day 2023 was intriguing.

The doorbell rang around 7:30 a.m. It was a guy from the City of Albany’s Department of General Services. He and his colleagues would trim the branches from the trees in the neighborhood. A branch of our neighbor’s tree was leaning heavily on the power lines in front of our house.

Were any of the cars on your side of the street ours? No, our car was across the street. Even though I’m car blind – I don’t recognize vehicles well – I could identify our next-door neighbor’s from an item he placed in front of the car so people were less likely to run into it while parking.

They spent over an hour trimming one tree. It had a lot of problematic branches, and they had to cut them into smaller parts. Then they put those branches in in the mulcher.

I suspect they picked that week to do our street because there is an elementary school on the block, and many teachers park on the street. Too many people grumble about government employees, but I was quite pleased with these.

Book review intro

I stopped at the bank to get cash. I had to wait because a bank employee showed a young woman how to use the ATM. 

Then, I took the bus to the Albany Public Library’s Washington Avenue branch to meet the author, Michael Sinclair. He has written a series of 1920s mysteries centered in Albany or Schenectady, NY.  

Interestingly, his presentation was much more about Albany’s history, complete with many photos, and less about the books.

My past converges

After the talk, I talked to a reference librarian who’s often at the desk when I’m there on Tuesday afternoons. Michael Sinclair thanked her for some technical assistance, mentioned that he had graduated from UAlbany’s library school in 2003 and that the APL librarian had attended a decade earlier. 

I asked her, “When did you graduate?” “1992.” I graduated in 1992. She asked who I knew from there then.  I mentioned two future NY SBDC colleagues and my ex-wife. “She was married to this guy who was in the program.” I shook my head and said, “That was ME!” 

Okay, so that was weird. Then she said, “And you used to go out with” this woman I dated off-and-on from 1978 to 1983. How did she know THAT? She used to work for said girlfriend at her office at UAlbany, and I would go there occasionally. So the librarian and I used to talk 40 years ago! She said I had a big ‘fro at the time; I didn’t think so, but it was an occasionally scruffy mess.

Altercation

As I’m standing at the reference desk, we hear one person yelling at another. And it got weird. I won’t talk much about it here because no great harm occurred, though it was unsettling to the library staff and me. Oh, and I was wearing a Santa hat at the time. The police arrived after one of the two had departed. 

I went home, and then my wife and I went to the movies, which I wrote about separately.  

How was YOUR Boxing Day 2023? Mine didn’t involve boxing, but it came close.

Blows against the empire

Will I see Summer before summer?

Aside from the day-to-day activities, there have been a few events I have missed. The Blows Against the Empire tour was canceled before it got to Clifton Park, near Albany. It wasn’t that I was desperate to see that show. But I was going to go with my oldest friend from my college days. And he was going to pay!

I was planning a trip to my hometown of Binghamton, NY in March 2020 for two reasons. I’m looking for the transcript of the October 1926 trial involving my biological grandfather Raymond Cone, at which my grandmother, then Agatha Walker, testified against him. I also wanted to track her location in the city directories during the 1930s. However, both City Hall and the local library are closed until they aren’t.

Also, my friend since kindergarten Carol, not to be confused with my wife Carol, was going to fly up from Texas to visit her mom. So I’d have a chance for a visit with her and perhaps my Binghamton-area friends. Not yet.

Postponed, so far

At the Proctors Theatre in Schenectady, I have a subscription. The musical Summer, about the disco queen Donna, has moved from March to June. Will that actually come to pass? Or Dear Evan Hansen, still scheduled for June? Or Come From Away in September? What does theater look like in the era of physical distancing? Does the economic model even work?

Then there are the ersatz gatherings. The weekly church services, which get better as the folks have figured out the technology. The Bible studies. The Google Hangouts, Zoom meetings, and whatnot.

Something that I have discovered about sharing screens on these platforms. Sometimes they can be quite useful. On one Zoom call, a guy with the same surname as some of my ancestors wanted to see my family tree. I’m going to be helping my friend with some librarian skills, and her seeing what I’m working on will be great. On the other hand, one ought not to feel obliged to share JUST because one can, technologically.

We’re muddling through.

Small town strawberry festival

Two sets of four coasters in the design of playing cards

The day before Father’s Day, my parents-in-law suggested that we might want to meet them for a strawberry festival in a small town about an hour from Albany. Since we weren’t going to see each other on the actual holiday, it seemed like a nice idea.

We got our strawberries, biscuits and whipped cream and sat on chairs in the shady part of the church lawn. I also split some Brooks barbecue chicken, a staple at church dinners around here, with my wife. And it was a good thing I bought it when I did, because when my FIL went back to get some chicken, it had sold out.

There were a number of vendors set along the main street. The Daughter wanted to go to the one just across the street, so we did. Some unnecessary knickknacks, such as bracelets. But what’s that – some Confederate flag paraphernalia? OK, we can just go.

Then I see in the corner of my eye a bunch of hats with “We don’t call 911” stitched on the brim and a gun here a logo might be. Yes, we’re in “no sale” territory. My wife wanted to know if we found anything to buy. The Daughter and I gave a curt “no.”

Eventually we came upon a yard sale, evidently run by three women. I spent a whole dollar in one seller’s column, two sets of four coasters in the design of playing cards, which I’ll use for my annual hearts game next March, if I can still remember where they are by then.

We listened to a concert in the church, a group of 14 women and 5 men, plus conductor and pianist. They sang a half dozen tunes, New York, New York; Somewhere from West Side Story, in honor of the centennial of Leonard Bernstein’s birth; a religious tune I didn’t recognize; and finished with a version of God Bless America that incorporated both a musical version of the spoken intro and a piece of America the Beautiful. The group, that has been around for 32 years, wasn’t bad.

The town is building a newly-refurbished library in the building that used to house a small performance theater. The old library, next door, will be where they sell books that are currently stored in the dingy and inaccessible basement. They plan to move the books from one building to the other via a bucket brigade early this autumn.

It was a hot day, so we went to the local Stewart’s Shops, ubiquitous in the region, for refreshment.

Right across the road was a hand-painted sign for a guy running for town supervisor. Adjacent to that was a large message, almost the size of a billboard: “Town Supervisor [name] and town board are [sic] panning to build a town building in a flood plain. DUMB ASSES.”

We drove home, and as is likely to be customary on such an oppressive day, I took a nap.

Ramblin' with Roger
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