Review Expedition: The St. Anthony Library, the final phase of the review expedition

Mercilessly long review of the St. Anthony Library in Minneapolis Minnesota

Phase 3 of the Review Expedition

All categories get a score! They are out of 100, with usual school grading applying wherein 75 is a straight up "C" and everything under 50 is just there to express various levels of pique.

Preamble and Arrival

Dave and I stumbled out of the Ecuadorian Restaurant Chimborazo and drove through the Minneapolis neighborhood of St. Anthony. I was so drunk I remember none of it. Actually, ha, I wasn't drunk at all. I had coffee at Chimborazo so I was keenly alert! But being drunk would have added an interesting twist. It's kind of a nice neighborhood back there in St. Anthony, and someone was having a yard sale of CDs. Dave and I asked each other simultaneously "Should we go?" and we answered simultaneously "No."  The era of the CD has passed, plus we work at a library anyway, where you can check them out for free. Our street ended without our finding Pentagon Dr. NE, but Dave's trusty and irascible jeep's GPS alerted us to the street really being something closer to an alley, leading us into a large strip mall. I've been in that strip mall, but hadn't really noticed the library. A library in a strip mall is an interesting idea, I guess, though also faintly repulsive.

 (Note on the picture above : I went out surfing the web for a picture of the St. Anthony Library and could find practically nothing, which is weird. Okay, no, it isn't weird, I mean, look at it, but I found this picture of St. Anthony Library, and I followed it back to its source website and found it to be by someone I know! And she is doing a blogging project of visiting loads of libraries and writing about what she finds, but nicely, not evisceratingly. Funny, but that's very nice. Anyway, the photo credit then goes to Ellen McEvoy and her very nice blog is here if you want to check it out. Anyway, thanks Ellen.)

For first impressions and all that:
68 out of 100

 Building and Public Art

Inside they had reasonably good signage, some nice display pieces, and a slightly cluttered but useable layout. They didn't seem to take much advantage of the displays to get focused or put interesting things on them, and so it all seemed a bit random. They appeared to have 3 staff members in the small space, one shelving, one librarianing (it is too a word!), and one clerking. But it was Dave who went out to help some lady bring in a couple boxes of donations. There was a little for-the-public office work station set up which was interesting to us because we have a for-the-public office work station at our library too. It's called the front desk. Their station was very forthright about how it was provided by the Friends of the Library, which seemed pretty small time, but, okay.

They seemed to have bailed on the public art thing here for the most part, but they really didn't have much space to work with. The had a Blacklock print of Quetico (canoe country) that I think was actually a signed series print and a Jasper Johns American Flag art poster. This fit in with their, oh, whatever, vibe which is similar to their something is better than nothing vibe.

69 out of 100

Random Generic Library Measure

Number of Agatha Christie books on shelf: 4. Well, it's something, and they're quite a small branch.

73 out of 100 

Bathroom Check

 I had to get a key to review, er, use the bathroom. I would have maybe somewhat understood if at "The Security Guard Northeast Library" I had to get a key to use the bathroom, but here? It just seemed a little paranoid. The bathroom itself was good. Single occupancy, thinnest towels in the known universe, clean. Marks down almost entirely for the key thing. I don't like sharing bathrooms and I don't like talking to people about having to go to the bathroom. I may be too delicate to review bathrooms.
77 out of 100

 Can I hang my flier for my blog with a sticky note on it saying "this library to be reviewed soon!"?

 I didn't ask as they just had a tiny board for library things. Oddly this actually puts them ahead of their other branches in this category
70 out of 100

Coffee Shop?

I don't know of any agreeable coffee in the area, but across the parking lot is the very good Tea Source, one of the best places for Tea in the twin cities and since I, a fierce coffee drinker, am willing to make that shift, I think anyone should.
90 out of 100

Librarian one: The Collection Question

Do they have The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole aged 13 and 3/4 by Sue Townsend? I had to fully give the info here for her to type into the computer as the Librarian was not familiar with it. They did not have it, but with my help we were able to ascertain that there were copies in the system of The Adrian Mole Diaries, which is a single volume of the first two books. It wasn't checked in at St. Anthony. There wasn't much more than that I was offered, like fun, sympathy, or a reading from memory.

Score for library collection (I did not have a strong expectation this book would be on the shelf in this small branch. Adrian Mole Diaries is a just barely acceptable substitution and 8 copies in the system, half checked out, is a maybe ever so barely acceptable number):
73 out of 100

Score for Librarian
73 out of 100

 Librarian two: The Reference Question

Who is St. Anthony? "Wasn't he the patron saint of lost things?" This answer was followed by that " I better make sure" reconsideration thing. I can't remember if she looked anything up, asked another person, or just confirmed herself with renewed confidence. Her answer wasn't wrong, just lackluster and thin and offhand. If she merely showed me this picture by El Greco




I would have scored her dozens of points higher.
66 out of 100

Librarian three: The Free Form Question

What's the best nearby restaurant. She said, after a bit of hmmming, and saying there wasn't much around, that she guessed it was The Village Pub. This felt to me like it was the first restaurant she could think of. And for a couple days after this I thought it was a terrible answer, but now I feel a little bit less hard on it. The online reviews are mixed, but generally not hateful. And while I can't imagine wanting to eat there under virtually any circumstances, I'm not actually aware of any place in the neighborhood I really would have wanted to eat. Still, she should have asked for more information instead of just throwing off that answer, unless I misread her and she was passionate about the Village Pub and their world famous Poutine, which is handcut fries and fried cheese curds topped with their homemade turkey gravy. Ask a question based on personal taste and don't expect to get an answer based on yours.
79 out of 100

Circulation

I stepped up and took one for the team here. I went to the circ person to get a new library card. My hennepin card had faded into history and I was ready. Thus began the strangest portion of my review odyssey.  I had all the things I needed and she did get me a card, but it was all... quite odd. There was something gravely slow and earnest about her. She looked at my license like she had never seen one before in her life. She silently entered my information. I could hear the keystrokes. It took a long time, but actually I found I didn't mind that. I sometimes wonder how people can stand it when some of my deathly slow colleagues help them, but I can see how easy it is to go into a very peaceful zone when someone is processing on your behalf. It's the people waiting in line behind who suffer. There was no line. In fact, there was, I believe, only one or two other patrons in the whole library at that time besides Dave and I. When my card was ready she handed it to me slowly and proceeded to give me a very long and earnest lecture entirely about what to do if I lost my card. She enumerated the grave perils of it, the way I wouldn't know that some thief had checked out things on my card until I started getting late notices. She told me how to call in to report it lost. "Do not wait." She admonished. She spoke slowly as if this was complicated and profound information. She said I could call any Hennepin branch, not just St. Anthony to report it lost. It was fascinating. There was nothing about any features or privileges of my card other than this, the five minute lecture about the perils and responsibilities of losing my card. As an interesting addendum to this I will say that in many, many years of constant circulation work at an intensely busy library I have never personally run into an even remotely verifiable instance of someone stealing or using a stolen card to check out materials. Never. Not once. 

One last thing that was not a circ issue, but had to do with what I had to look at on the counter while I waited for my card. They had a small rack on the desk there that offered free "Take one only" bookmarks that were actually bookmark ads for a movie called Jack the Giant Slayer that came out months ago. The bookmarks came with a sign that said they were provided by the friends of the library. I worry about the Hennepin County Friends of the Library. They seem pathologically desperate for recognition. The clerk? Well, I actually work with someone sort of like her.

68 out of 100

Random Personal Search for Item

I searched for the DVD Moonrise Kingdom. At first glance this search seemed silly as it looked like they had about 3 DVDs checked in, the newest of which was the delightful What's Up Doc? with Barbra Streisand and Ryan O'neal. So, no, they didn't have it. But in checking their catalog I for the first time saw the sheer breadth and power of such a massive and mildly rich (comparatively) library system, something that didn't show up well with my more idiosyncratic searches. There were 65 copies of Moonrise Kingdom! And there were even 2 that belonged to St. Anthony, albeit both checked out.
88 out of 100

 Summary and Final Score   

  
The St. Anthony Library in Minneapolis is a strange solution to a neighborhood library. Perched anonymously with other shops in a seriously unbeautiful strip mall it certainly could come into its own with a creative staff, some clever ideas and energy, and a tightly curated collection. It didn't come into its own. Unfortunately the branch mostly struggles to get by on the power of its system and the simple fact that it is, well, a library. The staff seemed to be more of the sadly sleeping kind we'd been seeing all day, but also ventured out into even more strange territories of the often tragic human landscape. Strange hints of paranoia and an emotionally questionable "Friends" group rounded out the picture of this odd and uninspiring library. But, in the end, it is a library. So...
70 out of 100

Outrage! Live stories of life and death from the stacks.

I am speed shelving along in order to maybe get a few moments to write. This kind of intense, high energy work always makes me a bit high strung. Add to that the fact that our chronic temperature control problem has the genre stacks at a humid 81 degrees (I like to think of it at this point as a chronic Property Manager problem, but it could be a building design problem. I'd just like to know who i can safely blame!). And add to that the fact that my cart, with its "In order" magnet on it, is only sort of in order (again, who's to say that the person who put this cart in order didn't look feverishly for a magnet that said "Sort of in order" only to be rushed to the hospital with heat exhaustion before they could find one?). My ire is raised further by a forced delay to fix someones confusion over the fact that "Andersen" and "Anderson" are merely homophones, the important part here about homophones being that they are spelled differently. When I finish untangling these I grab the next book and my ire crests. This book does not belong in romance, it belongs all the way back at the start of the mystery section. The author is Arnaldur so it's way back. Normally this would be a less terrible journey, but in this crushing heat I could easily collapse, and, separated from my life sustaining cart, perish amongst the dry and barren Hillermans. As I fume at this costly error of sorting I notice the book title. It is Outrage. 

I so love it when the book titles talk to me, tease, echo, cajole, suggest. Instantly I calm down. Outrage indeed. I peacefully shelve out the rest of my cart. The books can be so charming sometimes.

The Clerk Code (1.1)

A code. What fun! Clerks should definitely have a code to guide them, to keep them pure of heart and noble, wise and true, righteous and strong. I thought it would be a great thing to put on my blog so I looked around for someone to write this code. I was thinking it could be done by a really good writer, maybe, but also one with some clerking experience. Of course, naturally, Melville came to mind. Shyness and the vagaries of blogging delayed me, but eventually I wrote him a short, but very polite letter that I'd like to think was quite convincing. Unfortunately when I sought his address I stumbled upon information indicating he had passed on. What a loss! A mere 122 years ago now and I'm kicking myself for being such a procrastinator!

So fine. Fine. I'll give it a spin. All by myself, or, maybe with your help if you have any ideas that you're willing to share. The code doesn't feel like the sort of thing to pop out of one lone blogger all perfect all at once. It's too big and important for that. I am thinking of it being just a tiny bit more Talmudic in nature, or like a Wikipedia article. I'm thinking actually this is more how the ten commandments should have been done.  Maybe I could start here with a rough feel for it, and then just sort of update, add to, and refine it according to inspiration, comment, suggestions, and celestial visions. A work in progress if you will, and then, after a few hundred years of this, when we feel it's all lined up and as ringing true as we can imagine, we'll lock it down. Don't feel like you can't use the clerk code in your workplace right away, just recognize that the code is in more of a beta state, and as you are guided by it, think of yourself more as a field tester than an acolyte, an agent more than an adherent.

The Clerk Code

version 1.1

1. Look down not up.

With the paltry organizational and societal powers of the clerk, we tend to look up the ladder of power and compensation in two detrimental ways. We covet and glorify what those above us have, and we dwell on, understand and ascribe importance to those above us. Our attention fills out these people, makes them more complex and makes their actions have more meaning. We make them more human. Meanwhile those hierarchically below us, offering less danger and less glamour and less possibility of personal advancement, recede from our vision and become clerical things to be dealt with, more like shelving, or emptying a bin. But the only true way to defeat the ignominy of clerkdom is to look down. Struggle to dwell on how you think the way you respond to the shy volunteer will make them feel, rather than, for instance, what your bosses strange greeting to you meant. Think less of the Board's absurd new policy and their reasoning behind it and more of how you can safely transcend and subvert that policy to bring justice and happiness to lowly patrons. I am not saying those above us in power and compensation are less human than those below us, only that the relentless default and encouragement of our society and our problematic nature leads us overwhelmingly to seeing them as more human. Looking down not up is the corrective.

2. Do the job that needs to be done, not the job you are supposed to do, unless you might get in trouble for that.

Being the puppet agent of either an institution or a superior leads only to being a monster. You must fight to remain conscious that your actions and choices are always yours, and even a compromised action should be understood as such and suffered.

3. Find and expand the delightful parts of your job.

Even if the delightful parts of your job are out on the edge of your job, do them. If you love to discuss Vivaldi with a compatible co-worker discuss Vivaldi with them. Prioritize it and do it as safely as possible. Don't treat it as an accident or goofing off just because a boss would be inclined to think it is.

4. A full time work week is 20 hours a week.

This is a guess, but anything more is a lie we are told and tell ourselves. We do not (yet) have the power to enforce this directly, but it remains true nonetheless. Therefore you should try to do a really good job half the time. Go for it. See how good a job you can do. Pick good spots, especially ones that will effect your co-workers and the public. The other 20 hours are an extremely complicated free time. Keep it honest.

5. See yourself in your co-workers.
That deadbeat that takes an extra ten minutes for break, that stands there chatting to someone for 15 minutes while you're racing around, that got a cushy assignment for the hour and is, apparently, enjoying it, that leaves you mysteriously alone at the front desk for five minutes with a crowd, that hardly got any shelving or transit processing done because they were running around doing their own things. That person is you too. No, seriously, that person is you too.

6. Be grateful but not too grateful.

Co-worker Carol used to sometimes say fervently "We are lucky to have these jobs." And she really meant it. And she was right. But she didn't also mean that they were lucky to have us and that we deserved those jobs, which we did. Contrary to what you've heard, the world does owe you a living, because you are you, and you are beautiful.

Okay, that's our start. I know many of my readers are not big commentators, but this is the place, what with it being for the ages and all, so chime in. I'll re-post this periodically whenever we do changes and updates. And don't feel like you have to be a "Clerk" clerk. I've been reading the definition of 'clerk'. Everyone is a clerk sometimes.

Expedition Luncheon at Chimborazo, an interlude

 Dave and I stumbled out of our second Minneapolis Library, bloated with knowledge and materials (actually, no, we didn't check anything out, and though I suppose our knowledge did increase I'm pretty sure we weren't staggering on the sidewalk with the weight of it, but then it does seem like a memory lapse is just the sort of thing that might go along with a sudden, massive surge in knowledge). I managed to get in the jeep, despite a small unlocking-my-door fiasco, before any aggressive young toughs approached us and said insulting things about our ability to understand Faulkner. I don't know whether to attribute this to our speedy getaway or to the scrupulous presence of the Northeast Library's security guard. I think he was 6' 10" in his stocking feet and looked as if he would brook none of the Faulknerian shenanigans that so plague our public library parking lots.

It was lunch time. Oh how happy we were. Though Dave and I are now deep students of libraries we are even deeper students of Lunch! Chosen for lunch, from actually a few possible good choices, was Ecuadorian food up the street at the well regarded Chimborazo. Dave at one point looked out the window of the Northeast Library and laughed and said "There's our restaurant."  Yes, across the street from the library was an Ecuadorian Restaurant. But not our Ecuadorian Restaurant. Who knew that Northeast Minneapolis is home to several thousand Ecuadorian Restaurants? And did you know that the National dish of Ecuador is not Guinea Pig, it is Ceviche? Guinea Pig is just something they eat in the mountainous regions. I am thinking maybe their National dish should be llapingachos (a kind of potato pancake). Let Peru have the Ceviche.

Right, so, the restaurant. We sighted it and parked successfully. (I can't believe I just said that about sighting and parking successfully. Of course we did! I will totally edit that out as soon as I am not so busy blogging). The restaurant was nice and quiet inside. I didn't take notes as I thought I was on break from reviewing, but my impression is clean and nice divey casual. Does that make sense? Can something be a dive and clean and nice? I don't know. But I liked it in there.

The waitress was nice and enthusiastic about the food. As Dave and I were still uncontrollably in interview mode we asked both her and the guy seated on the other side of the restaurant, eating alone, many questions. Dave's questions were mainly about food, but I was, early on, wildly convinced by their Ecuatoriano Vegitariano and had no questions there. I did have questions about soda. I ended up getting an Inca Cola. I really liked the heavy bottle. I don't believe the man misled me when he compared the flavor to Fruity Pebbles, though I would say that it is more simply a bubble gum flavored soda. I do not regret my purchase though I did not manage to drink much of it. It was purchased in the spirit of novelty. I also got coffee which was good and served (when Dave asked for it) with cream in a little pitcher rather than some insane little plastic containers of sort of cream.

Okay, all that taken care of I will cut to the food. Dave got the Ecuatoriano Vegitariano as well. It consisted of:

Stewed Beans, so surprisingly good that I got beans the next time I went shopping

Rice, fine, properly cooked, white, just... rice. Dave did not finish his.

Llapingachos, loved this, a flavorful sort of fried pancake of mashed up potatoes with cheese in the middle. The potatoes were orange which made Dave think maybe they were sweet potatoes, but I did not think so as they tasted, well, very potatoey. The potatoes, it turns out, were orange because of the ground Achiote seeds in them.

Muchin de yuca, this was not too interesting, and, actually, as I am really keen on Yuca fries, it was kind of dissappointing too, just a sort of round fried thing with some cheese in the middle, certainly not bad, but not notable in any way.

Sweet Plantain, not much of it, just a single, thicker diagonal slice, but really tasty, had some strange soft crunch in it I couldn't figure out, something with the ripeness of the plantain? That part was good but curious too.

Curtido, I think that this is the salad, and, again, it's the little things that make a restaurant like this. Romaine lettuce, very lightly dressed, with two lovely slices of avocado on top.

Dave loved very much the small cup of cilantro based sauce it all came with. I liked it without enthusiasm. Since, let's face it, I am giving a review here, let's say 90 out of 100 for Chimborazo, a nice place, nice staff, very good food, not just recommended, but worth a trip since you probably don't have a lot of opportunities to go to Ecuadorian Restaurants (apologías a mis lectores en Quito).

And so I leave our interlude here, and next we'll be on our way to the St. Anthony Library in Minneapolis, where I will again review like crazy.

Signing off from the field.

My monthly allowance of peevishness at librarians

Today I wanted a copy of The Fellowship of the Rings. They were all checked out. I flew into a rage, but all quiet like, inside, and plotted my revenge on my blog. Then I rubbed my hands together and chuckled maniacally. I have always wanted the librarians to pay for these sorts of things, but I never, until now, had such sweeping blog powers! And now I'm drunk on it. And now our Adult Science Fiction/Fantasy collection buyer shall rue the day she took her eyes off the Tolkien collection!

On second thought, I think maybe all those "If I were King of the Library" posts may have gone to my head. Perhaps I can instead speak of this civilly. Almost civilly? Only just a wee, tiny touch deranged? And if I'm a bit too tough on the librarians maybe we can chalk it up to a series of years, now almost long past, where I toiled in my library's wildly understaffed circ pit, while the librarians mainly got to surf the internet and do occasionally mildly interesting things. As a dear, but now moved on colleague of that era used to like to say, "Good times."

The main thing wrong here with the absence of The Fellowship of the Rings is one that I find librarians get wrong often. I call it "The Series Problem", which I just invented now to sound professorial. It is based on idle observation and surmise, which is way less tiring than the semi-related "Scientific" approach. It says that in any multiple book narrative series that is popular (and not primarily new), the first book will always get checked out more, way, way more. So much more that most librarians can't process it and so under buy it. Everyone who wants to try the series starts with the first book and many go no further. Most deep fans will go back to the first book to reread, but may not go on in round 2 or 7 of their rereads. And with all the heavy reads the problem is compounded as more of the first book is lost or read into pieces. On top of all this there is a good reason to actually overstock the first of a series. People tend to stumble upon the desire or recommendation for the series and so want that starting point right away, whereas if they find it engaging, they have time to plan out and wait for further books in the series, as they are still reading the first. All of this applies a little less strongly to mystery series which can have a tolerance for jumping in, and more thoroughly for the strong sequential narratives that tend to appear in fantasy. This is why we end up with zero The Fellowship of the Rings on our shelves, but six Return of the Kings. I went and did a random test of this and, I'm a little embarrassed to say, but not too embarrassed to say, it made me feel very clever. I sampled the Harry Potter series. My branch is hanging by a thread with Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. There are 11 copies checked out and just one on the shelf. And of book seven in the series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows? There are 15 checked in, and just four checked out. I don't shelve in the kids room so only go to those stacks if Juvenile fiction is what I'm reading or helping someone with, but my god, those later books get thick. There must be a wall of Harry Potters in there right now!

There is a curious corollary between "The Series Problem" and the chronic library problem concerning musical artists in regards to their early career recordings vs. their late career recordings. But perhaps I'll save that for another time. There is also the issue of what I call "Popular Classics" or "New Classics" of which I suspect Fellowship of the Rings is a slight victim. This has a lot to do with different kinds of popularity, but perhaps that too is a discussion for another day. The last problem is that I never seem to hear librarians talking about these problems, fussing, obsessing, asking. And so it raises my ire not just from the disappointment, but from the sense that it is less an accident and more an inevitable result of disengagement. I saw plenty of signs of that disengagement on my tour of Minneapolis Libraries, but it's another thing to see it in my own dear genre stacks. Luckily I had saved four whole weeks of my peevishness allowance for such an occasion as this. And now it's spent.

If I Were King of the Library, The Second Decree

Now that the King (me) has solved the shelving issue (see the first "If I were King"), what about the fun? 

Fun goes to the passionate! Every quarter (that's 4 times a year!) we fund pet projects. Who can apply? Anyone who works there! Hell, longtime volunteers can apply too, and my blog readers! What do we fund it with? Time and money and space. Oh, then hmph, grumble, and how do we pay for this?

Aha. The king puts his money where his mouth is. All the other functions of the library are hereby stripped to the bare bones. Acquisitions are greatly reduced. Classes are reduced. Programming is reduced. The library is simplified and reduced to its basics, and everything that it loses there is filled back in by these pet projects. How do we choose these pet projects? We vote, everyone votes. Everyone has to read every proposal and everyone votes on every project. So, um, can we see an example? Yes. We will pick something simple and basic lest you think the whole thing will be too much of a carnival.

Sylvia is a kids librarian and she likes being a kids librarian, but she loves jazz. She can't stop thinking about jazz. She listens to it for hours and hours every night with her cat Thelonious. She wants a jazz corner at the library. As befits a library she believes it should be materials oriented. There will be a deep, deep master collection of CDs, the best of DVDs, books and even some long forgotten record albums. There will be a detailed and heavily stocked "Suggested" section as well. She wants a largish chunk of money and the equivalent of 2 hours a day to work on it. She also wants the maximum time for it. 2 years. After 2 years she would have to apply for some kind of renewal.

Okay, there's your example. Let's say there are not a lot of super great projects that quarter (or, heck, there are other great projects, but this one is still very popular and people trust Sylvia) and Sylvia gets fully funded. What really does the library end up with?

Instead of a mediocre CD collection (like nearly every public library I have ever been to), we get, well, a little bit more mediocre CD collection, and one, ferociously beautiful, destination Jazz collection. The kind that inspires people to explore Jazz by its own radiating conviction. We get a happy employee contributing their masterful knowledge and deep energy, and we get personality and depth. And oh yes, we wake up! I just went to three Minneapolis libraries. They were varying degrees of okay to a little bit lousy but not totally terrible. But they were mostly so absolutely asleep! The staff was asleep! The collection was asleep! The libraries were asleep. Just, wake up! Libraries can be beautiful. They can be adventures! They can be quiet and studious and calm and keenly awake. Yes, yes, they can be partly responsive to simple popularity, they should be, responsive to their statistical measures and the pull, and even the wonders of Big Media, but they can also be personally curated. Museums of art. Places of personal conviction and insider knowledge, of mercurial and fierce fandom!, where items are part of the collection because someone in the system unreservedly believes in it. Places where the forgotten that should not be forgotten is held on to, and places where the luminous depths of our culture can emerge out of the flotsam and resolve itself into the amazed and enlightened hands of its constituents. We need only be awake, and free, and care.

I can think of 20 more examples beyond Sylvia's Jazz without effort. And though tempted to run on endlessly with my visions I believe, reluctantly, especially reluctantly if I get to be King, in Democracy. So I think you should think of some of your own simple or mad ideas. I think you could, if you let yourself. Leave them here with me. When I am King we'll see about getting them funded. I think your project will win the votes necessary to get you going on your mad or simple dream, and our library will be magic.

So it is decreed, this day, etc. etc.

The King.

Review Expedition: The Northeast Library

The original header here said this was a less exhaustive review than my last one, of Pierre Bottineau, which went on rather for awhile. But, as it turns out, this one rather goes on and on as well. So here is an exhaustive (but still idiosyncratic)... 

Review of the Northeast Library in Minneapolis Minnesota

Phase 2 of the Review Expedition

All categories get a score! They are out of 100, with usual school grading applying wherein 75 is a straight up "C" and everything under 50 is just there to express various levels of pique.

Preamble and Arrival

Dave and I drove back the way we came and headed north on Central. This is a very interesting street, not so much architecturally, as it's just big and retail, but it's super multi-ethnic and diverse and all that. There are quite a few Central American, and Middle Eastern restaurants, but also a very good Co-op. I had a wrong address for the library, but as the jeep gripped fanatically to the road surface Dave was easily able to adapt to our sighting of the library (earlier than expected, on the left) and get us into a parking lot in the back. The library was newish, with a pleasing enough contemporary industrial design. Dave commented positively on it inside which made me look more favorably upon it and all its metal beams and wood and skylights. I liked how the library just fronted right up on the sidewalk and I was aware how rare it is that I find a really urban library that fits well in a commercial district without setting back more from it. I guess I'll go swipe a picture. I'd credit the photographer but I couldn't figure out who it is.

For first impressions and all that:
81 out of 100

 Building and Public Art

That whole arrival thing covers a lot of the building. I'll add more about inside. The library was a very open plan, and there was something a bit static about its layout design, but this is something I feel a little ill-equipped to judge. I know there's that balance of needing to keep things very public and visible so that people are less able to get up to trouble, but the nooks and diverse spaces are what can make libraries so appealing and interesting. This library had a massive, not very friendly security guard roaming the space and a desk set up that really seemed designed for keeping an eye on things. So, while I was not keen on it, I also don't know what kind of chronic problems they've experienced there. The desks looked onto the entrance and the banks of computers that dominated the center of the library and caused me to coin the phrase "Computeraries" which my computer does not yet recognize as a word. I know internet access is huge for today's libraries but I'd love to see those growing banks of terminals integrated into the design better, perhaps more discreetly.

As to public art I didn't see anything of any note, which seems especially sad considering its culturally rich neighborhood. This had a surprising impact to me because it really made the building feel uninvolved in the community.

72 out of 100

Random Generic Library Measure

Number of Agatha Christie books on shelf: 36, really quite good for a smaller to medium branch.

88 out of 100 

Bathroom Check

 One wanders into the only thing that could slightly be called a "wing", sort of in the back right of the library, to easily find the bathrooms. From the security guard and the feel of the library I'd think they'd be combating junkies shooting up in there and that the bathrooms would thus be pretty rough, but no! These were individual use bathrooms in super nice condition. I was inspired to even use the bathroom! My only small complaint is that the Hennepin Library System apparently uses the cheapest, most flimsy paper towels ever made and their dispenser jammed after some strange partial piece of towel dissolved on my wet fingers. Ah well, it is more ecologically friendly to dry my hands on my pants anyway.
92 out of 100

 Can I hang my flier for my blog with a sticky note on it saying "this library to be reviewed soon!"?

 I got the exact same answer here as at the Pierre Bottineau branch, leave it with them and they'll check with, I don't know, their executive director of sign posting, who tours the branches to determine what signs can go up. I'd be happy to bump the score up a little if someone comments that they found this blog from the posting that was hung up at the Northeast Library, but for now
62 out of 100

Coffee Shop?

5 blocks south is a place called Diamonds which I am actually curious to try, but have not yet had the opportunity. For now this seems good enough. You can probably get fairly good coffee at the nearish co-op too.
83 out of 100

Librarian one: The Collection Question

Do they have The King of the Schnorrers by Israel Zangwill. First, I should say the librarian desk person was oddly at the side of said desk, like the desks were something to be avoided. She was working on a small laptop perched on a partition. To help me she moved back to the computer on the desk. I had to spell "Schnorrers", though I recognize this is not unreasonable. They didn't have it. I was offered no further options. Interest, Interlibrary loan options, and or commiseration all would have done much to improve the score here.

Score for library collection (and I realize this is a small fit of pique as the book has horrifically fallen into obscurity, but as we'll see they have over a million books!):
35 out of 100

Score for Librarian
60 out of 100

 Librarian two: The Reference Question

How many books are there in the entire collection? She sort of laughed and said "No." (I can't remember, was my question "Do you know how many..."?). Then, in that 'oh yeah, I'm supposed to be a librarian' way that was starting to become familiar, she added "There's over a million in Central."  So, a lot, but not King of the Schnorrers.
62 out of 100

Librarian three: The Free Form Question

What does she think of the Pierre Bottineau Library? She did pretty well here. She said it was quiet and quaint. We chatted briefly about its circulation, which was low. She had an opinion and shared it. I didn't get any inside scoops though.
84 out of 100

Circulation

Sadly Dave did not try again for a card and I didn't do anything at Circ either, so I am cautious about judging too hard. What I took to be the Circ Man was standing a fair bit back and sideways to the desk, in conversation with someone for what seemed to be the whole time we were there. Oddly the staff struck me as treating the desks, which seemed nice enough and well enough situated, as faintly contaminated. Circ may have been great if we engaged him, who knows. So keep in mind we go on very little here.
73 out of 100

Random Personal Search for Item

Okay, once again I'm going to get way too emotional here. I looked for Blood on the Tracks by Bob Dylan. This is arguably the greatest album by, again, arguably, but it's a good argument,  the single most important artist of any kind of his generation, who, it is important to note, actually recorded this album in Minneapolis, with local musicians. In Minneapolis! And they have like 3 or 4 copies total in the collection. Of course they are all checked out! Yes I am giving into a fit of pique once more, but geez, it's like if the Stratford upon Avon Library system didn't have Hamlet. "Yeah, but it's in a book of his collected plays, we've got a couple of those. But, hmm, looks like they're checked out." Actually, I wrote this, then went to the Stratford upon Avon website and checked, and I'm really not sure this isn't sort of the case. I can't quite tell, but if it is they get the same score here as below!
11 out of 100

 Summary and Final Score   

  
The Northeast Library in Minneapolis is a new, modern, clean building in an interesting and diverse urban area of Northeast Minneapolis. Its static and  prepared for the worst qualities are a little hard to judge without knowing just what issues they contend with. But the building did feel safe and clean if a little bland, which could conceivably be because of all their preparation. The library is a place you could hang out in, but with few extra incentives to do so. Casually, and possibly a little unfairly, the staff seemed at least somewhat disengaged, and fairly speaking this time, that was actually borne out in what interactions we did have. To my mind the library is haunted by collection issues that make me wonder exactly what librarians are up to. I find it hard, with all its moderate plusses and minuses here to venture anywhere away from a dead average score. But I am suspecting that is a bit high and reflects on my standard getting slowly crushed down, alas.
75 out of 100

If I Were King of the Library!

I like the sound of this title. This could be a handsome new series of blog posts. If I were king of the library indeed! I'm all for it. But, as befits a series, instead of getting all sweeping and exhaustive, I start out with one modest, well, almost modest, kingly decree, perhaps a bit mundane, but perhaps a bit foundational as well.

Here is my decree: 

Every employee in the building shall shelve materials for one hour every day they work.

Kings, Pages, Librarians, Board Members, Custodians, Computer Operators, Clerks, and Regional Managers all. It shall be the tithe and the fundament. So it is decreed this date etc. etc.

Here is the fine print and details:

1. This is prorated at a rate of 8 hours scheduled to 1 hour shelving. If, for instance, you work a 4 hour shift your shelving tithe will be 30 minutes. There is a minimum though of 15 minutes shelving, so if you are only coming to the building for an hour long managerial meeting make sure you still set aside 15 minutes extra for your shelving.

2. If you are physically unable to shelve you will work from a provided short list of mundane yet useful alternates.

3. No bartering away your shelving. This is soul work too.

4. If there is nothing left to shelve (something that never happens here, but could under this system) dig deeper. There are always things to shelve and a back up of shelving-like activities will be available if there really is nothing. However, on mornings where we are strongly caught up, the King, or a licensed associate, may declare a "Shelving Holiday" where all are released from the usual responsibilities of shelving for that day.

5. Shelving time is real time. Breaks taken during shelving do not count towards shelving.


Why I think this is an important and good idea: 

I don't have to say, for I am King!

Okay. I will say. It breaks down the overwrought hierarchy that I feel is slow poison to the system. It puts everyone in touch with the building and the collection. It's better socialism and Libraries are, well, Socialist, except with a King! And finally, most simply, many hands make light work.

So it is decreed again, this date, etc. etc.

-The King  

Review expedition: Pierre Bottineau Library

Exhaustive, (but oddly idiosyncratic) Review of the Pierre Bottineau Public Library, Minneapolis, Minnesota

Phase 1 of the review expedition.

Watch out, I score everything, out of 100. If you'll think grades, that will be appropriate; 90 is A-, 80 is B-, 60 is the D-, and so on.

Preamble and Arrival

Released from our closed-for-maintenance library for 3 hours (plus an hour for lunch) I climbed into Dave's jeep. It was very high up, but I managed, as I am nimble. Our drive was oddly like one on an uneven dirt road even though we were on well paved roads. Dave said that's pretty much how the jeep is. Dave does not seem to love the jeep. I have never been in a vehicle that seemed to be at such pains to grip the road tenaciously at every single moment. But this is not a review of the jeep! Onto the library.

We traveled a good distance on Broadway St. which was a boring street that seemed industrial but without conviction, and then, all at once, came upon the paradise of Industrial Retro Rehab Chic that was the complex of the Pierre Bottineau Library. I'll go see if I can fetch any pictures for you now.

Hmm, so, just, uh, sort of borrowed this from the internet. And I am not interested in providing historical perspectives and suchlike, but am grudgingly willing to say this is the Grain Belt Campus, which I think means it was a big factory complex now all redone for other uses. I am not even sure where the library is in this picture, so onto the next pictures. 

 Okay, so this is the gated entrance to a quiet and pretty little, not quite park, it's more like the front garden of the library. All that Grain Belt stuff would be to the right here, behind the library. We also parked back there. Actually, due to a small, insignificant navigational mishap, we parked in the lot for an Architectural firm that's in the main factory building. We actually had to walk out to the street through a lovely sort of brick arched tunnel to the street, walk up the street a small bit, and enter precisely at this above gate.

This is the library with the main building behind. That big building, where the Architects were, is not physically connected to Pierre Bottineau, but it is architecturally. This is opposite the previous picture, which would have been taken at the far right.

And lastly, a picture of the main stacks of the library inside. It's just as nice inside as out. But maybe it doesn't seem so nice to you outside? Honestly it doesn't photograph as nice as it is.

So, if it is not clear, I really liked this whole place. And it was a very auspicious beginning to our library expedition.

91 out of 100

Building and Public Art 

There are even more good things than is covered above. I liked how you walk in to staff, like, they're in the main entry hall behind a counter. You turn right to go to the room in the picture above and left to go to their kids room. But the lobby and service counters make a sort of integrated "T" (though the top of the t is wide, and the bottom is short). I think the staff person even said hi to us as we entered, which is not the sort of thing I care about much, but just felt natural here. The building had nice light and a nice feel. It was quiet and the ever popular internet computers didn't dominate the place. The kids room felt a bit muddled and crowded. They had loads of public art, starting with a modernist steel sculpture in the front garden, going to some big murals in the front lobby, to what was apparently a temporary show of acrylic paintings of local industrial scenes (by one artist) that was perfectly appropriate for the library and of a very high standard. There was an unnotable painting in their throwaway teen nook, and there was a small reading/research room devoted to local history that had some old photos displayed. They did not captivate me, but I loved the idea, and the room seemed thematically appropriate to the library.

93 out of 100

Random Generic Library Measure

Number of Agatha Christie books on shelf: 15, respectable though uninspiring for a smaller branch.

76 out of 100

Bathroom Check

It was clean enough, and pretty, quite in keeping with the building. It had one stall and one urinal. I strongly feel then it should be a single person bathroom. I am a private person! Cannot speak to the Ladies Room, but seriously, they could have done 3 unisex rooms in this space.

81 out of 100

Can I hang my flier for my blog with a sticky note on it saying "this library to be reviewed soon!"?

Can you leave it with us and we'll give it to someone to see if it's okay? I said yes instead of "Can you look at it and figure out if it's okay? How hard can this be?" because I am polite and rather too fatalistic.

a very pissy 62 out of 100

Coffee Shop?

No, and I didn't feel there was one super close by, but I don't feel I should be too hard on this.

75 out of 100

Librarian one: The Reference Question

Who is Pierre Bottineau? The librarian said he was an explorer in a way that was so off hand that I believe it may have been offered as a question. Then, perhaps thinking better of this, she remembered some free library printed material that had info about him on it. We looked for it and after a good bit of searching found a flyer that I noticed had one quite small bit of info on him. This all was a bit of a sad failure because typing "Pierre Bottineau" into her computer search engine would have easily allowed her to provide enough information to satisfy me. Here, this is clipped from wikipedia in less time than it took her to make the first search for a flier on the counter:

Pierre Bottineau (January 1, 1817 – July 26, 1895) was a Minnesota Frontiersman.

Known as the "Kit Carson of the Northwest", he was an integral part of the history and development of Minnesota and North Dakota.

I could easily have continued to show you his picture and provide his local context (he had a lot to do with founding the city of St. Anthony, near the Library, which was later annexed into Minneapolis), but I think you get my point. And besides all that easy stuff that was mere keystrokes away on the internet, this branch has, as I mentioned, a small room devoted to local history, which, unless it is so pathetic that it should be converted to a Video Gaming room, will undoubtedly have some of the best and most useful materials on Pierre Bottineau anywhere, internet included!
40 out of 100


Librarian two: The Collection Question

Do they have a copy of The Blue Sword? The Librarian said first "By Robin Mckinley?" By Robin Mckinley indeed. Well done! This pleased me much! Unfortunately they had only two copies in the system, both out. She did offer to request it for me. I didn't get any commiseration or alternate choices, just, to explain the touch of mildness in my positive score below.
90 out of 100 for the Librarian
50 out of 100 for the collection
(something like 41 branches and 2 circulating copies of this total, both out?)


Librarian three: The Free Form Question

What is her favorite book? She would have to pick Tolkien's Trilogy, which was chosen without dissembling, just straight up, something I appreciated, and it was a choice I liked too. Once again, to explain the limits of my fully positive score, her enthusiasm drew a line, and she did not feverishly say, when I spoke of my affection for Lord of the Rings, something like "Oh, but have you read the great Blue Sword? It is nearly as good in it's own way! Oh, but right, we only have two copies because our teen collection buyer is demented." which is the kind of color commentary I would have needed to score a 100 on this one.
90 out of 100 
 

Circulation

Dave, a St. Paul resident, asked if he could get a card. Asked if he wanted to Check Out today he said he'd like to, but he didn't need to (by the way, kudos to Dave, that was such a good answer! Enough to invite the clerk to screw up, but not unfair). They said it would be a lot easier if he went to St. Paul directly and left it at that. As your library savant I can tell you that, a. this would be a lot easier for the clerk, not really for Dave, who would have probably hardly suffered, and, b., this answer is only acceptable to "No, I'm leaving. I don't want to get anything now." In all other cases the clerk's response was awful.
50 out of 100

Random Personal Search for Item

I looked for a copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson. Like Dave's bait question above, this is just the sort of thing libraries screw up on, unsanctioned foundational classics that people are always reading. And they sadly failed the bait of my search. Certainly not checked in at Pierre Bottineau in any form. They had, actually, interestingly, a few audio books of it in the system, a reference copy, a few unavailable ebooks, the movie, and a paltry 2 physical copies, both requested because, well, of course they are.
60 out of 100

Summary and Final Score

Pierre Bottineau is a beautiful library in an unusual part of town. It's design is interesting and harmonious and the space is mainly used well and consciously. The collection seems adequate if uninspired. The staff seems to be, casually speaking, under no great pressure, and has sadly responded with sleepiness rather than inspiration. The delightful facility does much to save it from a far more middling score, but the failure of its great promise also tempers that score strongly.
80 out of 100

The Expedition

I woke up with a powerful sense of mission. I feel like I'm going on an expedition. This may have to do with all the sort of wilderness adventure books I've been reading (Tracks, Paris to the Pyranees, and Desert Solitaire). And that, as an analogy, is apt, except instead of crossing a large, Australian desert with a few camels I am visiting 3 Minneapolis Libraries with Dave. Instead of 2 weeks to travel down the Colorado River through Glen Canyon we have 4 hours, including lunch. And instead of financing by National Geographic we are underwritten by the library we work for. On the one hand, as proletarian clerks utterly starved for perks and largesse this underwriting seems positively lush. On the other hand the whole thing seems paltry, and 3 libraries far too small a selection for our very thorough ambitions.

Appropriately for an expedition we will travel by jeep. I have never been in a jeep, and this will be especially useful if any of these libraries are located off road, in trackless burnt out industrial areas, or deep in the lost wild sections that still hang on, unexplored, along the Mississippi River banks. "Watch out, Dave!" I will cry. "You almost drove into that School of Wolves!" 

"Better that School of Wolves" Dave will wryly reply, gesturing to his left "Than that Flock of Mooses."

"Gosh!" I'll enthuse, marveling at the Flock of Mooses in their comely forest glen. Then I'll add "Hey, Dave, what's that under all those strange vines and deep mosses? Is that stone or is it..."

"That, my friend" Dave will exclaim, pulling the car to a halt "Is indeed the Wild River branch of the Hennepin County Library System."

"The one that's seen only 3 visitors in 11 years?"

"So they say. No internet access in that building."

"So they'll know nothing of my blog in there?"

"You write a blog?" Dave will ask.

"Let's head inside."

The first library we plan to visit is actually quite near the river, Pierre Bottineau. Look for the first review soon.

A Bookmark From the Library

This bookmark was sitting, mysteriously abandoned, on a table in the back workroom, and I just love it. It's from the Minnesota Historical Society. It's a picture of a jar of sand. In the middle is a sand rendition of Minnehaha Falls that's nicer than most oil paintings I've seen of the falls. We get a lot of bookmarks at the library, lost and found, and like most lost and found items they never get claimed. I have several bookmarks at home, but I'm not so good at using them and end up going with a stray scrap of paper, or other methods I dare not mention. I should try to use some of my nice bookmarks, but I think I'm afraid I'd lose them. I'm sure I would, but maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe the secret is that bookmarks are made to be lost. And found.

















 Some of my bookmarks:

 

It's not lying, it's something far stranger

I work the automated check in machine with a strange mash-up of busy contentment and wild rage. Setting aside the contentments, which are covered elsewhere (here, if you like, though I suppose it's more complex than just contentment), I will discuss the rages, which are triggered by tiny things sometimes. Actually, looked at sagely, from this distance, the rages are exclusively triggered by tiny things. There isn't much to begin with in clerking that isn't a tiny thing (much to the contrary of how we clerks talk of them to each other), and I can't think of a single non tiny thing with the machine that has ever induced rage in me. I think it's like a leaky faucet. That tiny periodic drip is maddening, whereas a bigger problem is simply one to be fixed. Or it might be more like the princess and the pea. Something about the machine makes me want to get things absolutely perfect, which is a futile and yet magnificently compelling quest. It makes me think of the wildly underrated movie Ocean's Twelve, where Reuben (Elliot Gould) tells Rusty (Brad Pitt) that he's micromanaging his hotels and needs to delegate to have a life. Rusty says "I don't want a life. I want the hotel to run like a hotel should." So, likewise, I'm not so sure I want contentment with the machine, I just want the machine to run like the machine should.

Anyway, the main group then of these machine triggered rages comes from things the machine is not supposed to do; an unpropitious jam, where book covers and pages wind into the rollers, or the machine mysteriously not figuring out how to route a series of books and dumping them into an exception bin, or bins not lowering or not raising or not attaching as they're supposed to, or "ghost" jams, where a belt shuts down because it is having a hallucination that books are stuck on it when they aren't. But there is another small group of rages that comes from things the machine is absolutely supposed to do. These are the ones of particular interest to me here. Most examples of this have to do either with bins filling, or with items going into the exception bins. But the particular rage inducer I find fascinatingly insane, in my relation to it and loathing of it, is the return of books from other library systems.

Bear with me here and I'll briefly explain. Well, not briefly, exactly, I'm not huge on briefly, but I'll do my best. Our library system is linked with other library systems in the state in various ways. The main way this effects the average library user is that they can register their library card in almost every public library system in the state and have one card that works in all these library systems even though they are totally discrete systems. The other main effect is that a patron can return their books in between systems. Checked out something from St. Paul, and it's due today, but you're in Minneapolis? No problem, you can return it to Minneapolis, they will put a slip in it with that days date and ship it off so that it eventually arrives in St. Paul, where they will backdate their check in to when you returned it. The books and libraries are all reunited and everyone is happy.

There is only one, tiny, tiny, problem. When a person returns their 20 St. Paul library picture books onto our machine they go one by one into our exception bin and have to be hand processed. Actually, that is not the problem. The problem is that when they do return their books that way it makes me furious. It breaks my flow. It separates me from machine perfection. It overloads my tasks. And I hate it. And, furthermore, I hate the person who returned all those books. I hate them! No, I'm not kidding, when those books are rolling down the machine one after the other, I am seriously hating the person who returned them. My whole coiled clerk being is despising them. Oh, yes, it's crazy. Is this common among clerks? I am pretty sure it is not uncommon. Do I hate these people, who merely did what they're allowed to do, right now, after the fact? My god, of course not! I'm not even mad at them. And when they came to me at the front desk and asked me if they could return their St. Paul books to my library did I say, yes, they could, but I will hate them if they do? No. I explained the whole process thoroughly to them and enthusiastically recommended it to them if I thought it would be of any help to them. And I meant it. From the bottom of my heart, I meant it.

Maybe it is all the simple reality that as I do these separate jobs I identify with them and I occupy them. If my feelings and relations within those jobs wildly contradict it doesn't matter. It's not me, it's just the place I go, just like I can be famished if I haven't eaten for a long time, and uncomfortably full if I've just had a huge meal. Perhaps, so long as these feelings aren't simultaneous, it's all going to be okay. But still, it does seem a bit deranged, so I thought I'd tell you about it. And now I have.

Reviews Mania!

At our sort of recent staff day (see post here) we talked about User Experience, which is about trying to look at our library from an outsider or user perspective to see how things work and to find tools and ideas for how to make things work better. To my delight, and, just a little bit, surprise, we are being given an opportunity to follow up on this. If we can arrange it, we can go, during work hours, to some other library system branch and look at it from this user experience perspective. We can maybe get some ideas from how they do things. We can also, if we are world renowned library clerk bloggers, review these libraries for the edification of the entire world. They didn't say that last part, but it was strongly implied. I earlier reviewed the St. Anthony Park Library (Here, it didn't do so hot) and I liked doing that, so I have arranged, while the library is closed to the public for furniture cleaning, to go with Dave (whose name I have not bothered to change because what's the point and I won't say anything bad about him anyway) to 3 Hennepin County Libraries, which I will be reviewing here, in this very blog. So look for my assorted reviews in the week or so to come. I'm also quite enthusiastic about trying out Chimborazo for lunch. It's an Ecuadorian restaurant that sounds good. I can review that too if you want. Let me know in the comments below. I can also review Dave's driving (I have never even seen him not at the library, let alone driven with him), the Minneapolis Northeast neighborhoods, and the quality of our furniture cleaning. I'm here for you. Tell me what you want.

Sometimes what we don't have can break my heart

In defense of our collection I find that a lot of the time we have the books and DVDs people want somewhere immediately available in our library. But sometimes, like today, I'll hit a bad streak and nothing is in. It's worst when it's my recommendations to some mildly interested patron because I'm the one who's all excited, and who's so sorely disappointed.

"Do you have The Game of Thrones sequel?" The young man asks. No. I put a request in on it, and we talk a bit. He loved Stephen King's The Dark Tower. Do I have any recommendations for something he can get now? With his choices I feel I have a bit of a fix on him. My fabulous choice is The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss! I sing its praises. He should read it immediately. It's perfect! It's also not checked in.

Rats. Lemme see. Oh! That book Marcus suggested, The Rook, by Daniel O'Malley. It's a bit more modern, but I really liked that a lot and have a feeling it will work. Or it would work, if it was checked in. Which it isn't. But that's okay. This direction opens things up. "Nightwatch" by Sergei Lukyanenko is golden and in every way as good a choice, maybe even better. If only we hadn't weeded our last copy. How can we not own a copy of this? It was insanely popular, more so in Russia, in the nineties, but still...

And then he's gone. And it's all so unfinished for me. My day will be a little haunted by this failure, and I'll keep thinking of new, perfect solutions that I can never get in his reading hands. When I think of one I'll be compelled to search it in the catalog, or even go check the shelf. Invariably there will be three or four copies, just sitting there, as there should be. Because it's an awfully good book. It would have been perfect. Maybe I'll just take one home and read it again. 

Second Thoughts

My favorite Terry Pratchett books generally seem to have something to do with the witches. And somewhere in those books, probably Wee Free Men and maybe the other Tiffany Aching books, is Terry Pratchett's idea of Second Thoughts. Poorly put, by me, this has something to do with being able to think about how you think. I have sort of spread this around conceptually in me and taken it to mean something about seeing what I'm doing from a second place and being able to consider it again. I consider this skill, as a clerk, to have generally saved my life.

I could just be a better person. I could be the person who, when he uses the third-to-last slip, goes and gets a new stack because that's automatically, as a decent person, what I do. But I haven't entirely worked out being that person yet. So I use second thoughts.

I see a transit box that is over full of books. It needs a lid and a new, labeled box to go on top, and I think "Who would fill this and just leave it like this? This is not my responsibility." and then I walk away from it. And then I have my second thought. And then I go and get the lid and box. This is not a rare occasion. This happens many times every day. It happens with books abandoned on shelves. It happens with a scrap of litter on the floor. It happens with a bin almost full at the end of the night. It happens with unpleasant patrons contesting their fines rudely, but legitimately. Second thoughts happen when it is my responsibility and they happen when it isn't my responsibility. They don't always cause me to change my course of action, but they tend to make it vastly more likely that I will settle on the better one. They make me consider one more time, maybe take a step out of the heat of things. There is so much heat everywhere.

Without second thoughts I am not terrible.  I am nice to the patrons. I am fair. I am almost industrious enough. I will often be in a mental place where I take care of things, and take care of them thoroughly. But also I fall, and I fall often. I don't want all these boring little tasks, and the world is not very fair. Remember that. It isn't. And there is no one who should have to endure that. But a quiet undercurrent of bitterness is a terribly dangerous friend. And I fall. I fall and I fall again.

My second thoughts are there, to catch me.