Will Unwound

Deep reading.  That is a term that surfaced in yesterday’s comments.

So….what is deep reading?  Well, let me take a stab at it.  It could be just losing yourself inside of a book.  This would occur when a book shuts out the world to you.  You get totally absorbed in whatever it is that you are reading.  It could be a novel; it could be a true adventure; it could be a calculus concept.  Basically it could be anything that totally takes over your attention.  It could mean you can’t eat or you can’t sleep.  All of life’s necessities take a back seat to your book.  I’ve been there; you’ve been there.  Typically it occurs when you need to get to the ending of a narrative to see how things get resolved.

Or…deep reading could be a situation where an author totally shakes up your world view of things.  Suddenly you see cosmic patterns that you’ve never seen before.  Does life take on a certain meaning that you never before considered?  That’s a possibility.  Maybe you’re reading Kierkegaard and suddenly you realize that there is a metaphysical cliff in front of you and you have to make a decision. 

Maybe it’s a poem.  Maybe some poet has put an image or a thought into your head that you can’t shake.  You try to come to and get back into your daily routine, but the poem just keeps reverberating in your brain.  You are there at the weekly staff meeting but when they are talking about service issues, you just can’t focus.  You can’t reel your mind or your soul back to the reality of everyday life.

To me poetry is always the very big afterthought.  What’s the expression?  So many books but so little time.  Why is it that we overlook poetry?

You would think that in our age where writers feel the pressure of time constraints that an eight or ten line poem would be all the rage.  You’ve got 140 characters, and each and every single character has to count.  A novel is out of the question, and a short story is way too long.  What does that leave?  It leaves poetry. 

The fog creeps in on little cat’s feet.  Right?  I’ve pondered about Sandburg’s poem long and hard because it’s a poem that here in Northern California I am often forced to think about.  I’ve even blogged about the fog; not that anyone has noticed.  Why don’t readers dwell on poetry? How many readers reacted to my fog blog?

Is it because poetry asks us to loosen up on our grip on reality and let our minds wander in directions that scare the reality out of us?  Perhaps.  But I really don’t think that’s it. 

Poetry is too internal.  It’s too inaccessible.  My dark night of the soul may not mean anything to you.  A few lines of poetry may be just too out of reach.  It requires an immersion into the land of feelings and emotions that you feel won’t in the final analysis make any sense. Is it too much work for too little gain?  Maybe you just don’t want to go there.  Deep reading, indeed!

But, hey, we’re librarians and our literature is rooted in poetry.  Homer, who started everything, was a poet, but the modern trend is to translate him into narrative prose.  Why?

It’s because poetry requires deep and sometimes dark reading.  Do we have time for poetry?  I don’t think there has ever a better time for poetry to work its magic on us.  I’ve probably had one original thought in my whole life and that is to put poetry on cereal boxes.  I wrote a blog post about it.  Did anyone care?  No. Why?  I don’t know.

So…Unwinders….I’m curious.  What is your view of poetry?  Does it have a future? 

Most importantly, what is your favorite poem or your favorite lines from a poem?  Who has the courage to divulge something so personal?  Give us the lines of your favorite poem.  This is going to be fun.

I’ll go first:

Choose Something Like a Star

by Robert Frost – 1947

O Star (the fairest one in sight),
We grant your loftiness the right
To some obscurity of cloud –
It will not do to say of night,
Since dark is what brings out your light.
Some mystery becomes the proud.
But to be wholly taciturn
In your reserve is not allowed.

Say something to us we can learn
By heart and when alone repeat.
Say something! And it says “I burn.”
But say with what degree of heat.
Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.
Use language we can comprehend.
Tell us what elements you blend.

It gives us strangely little aid,
But does tell something in the end.
And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite,
Not even stooping from its sphere,
It asks a little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid. 

Now, Unwinders, it’s your turn.  Give us your favorite poem.  Be bold.  Finally, we’re getting to the heart and soul of librarianship. Make this blog rock with poetry.

At one time, Woody Allen topped my funniest person in the world list. I grew up with Woody Allen’s humor and connected with the metaphysical quirkiness of his jokes while in college.  He made my required philosophy courses a bit more bearable.

However, like a lot of creative people (Steve Martin is another very good example) Woody Allen did his best work in the earliest part of his career.  With  each successive movie and book,  Woody descended farther and farther down on my list of funny people.  Now he is somewhere above PeeWee Herman but below Oscar the Grouch. 

To me the best Woody Allen jokes were the introspective ones:

• Reality sucks but it’s the only place I know of where you can get a steak.
• Not only is God dead, but try to find a plumber on the weekend.
• I do not believe in an afterlife, although I am bringing a change of underwear.
• I am not afraid of death, I just don’t want to be there when it happens.
• What if everything is an illusion and nothing exists?  In that case, I definitely overpaid for my carpet. (Mick, that was for you!).

My favorite Woody Allen joke of all time, however, is this one, which I heard while I was in Library School:

• I took a speed reading course and was able to read War and Peace in 20 minutes.  It’s about Russia.

As funny as the speed reading joke is, it’s actually quite thought provoking today, especially in light of Steve’s comment in response to yesterday’s blog post about the distinction between book librarians and machine librarians:   

• I didn’t become a librarian because I love either books or technology; I don’t have any strong feelings for either. I do love information, and I’ll help people find it in any format that works. When I help my students find books I look at it as a reference transaction; I find out what they want/need and help them find it. When they ask me for a “good” book I tell them that depends on what they like, and go from there. Unless it’s a picture book or maybe a nonfiction book about a topic that interests me chances are good that I’d never read it myself. I feel a little hypocritical at times, being a school librarian with no real love of books. I could probably count the books I’ve read this year on one hand. I like my information in small bits, and no longer have the patience for plowing through word after word, page after page. For the past several years I can’t think of a book where I wasn’t thinking, “I really wish this book would end” halfway through it. I’ve read articles about how people aren’t doing “deep reading” anymore. I’m not, so I can understand those who don’t want to. Maybe I’m in a better position than a lot of librarians to help people who are in the same boat as me. I’ll help them decide which format is best and most efficient for the information they want. It may be a book to read for pleasure, and it’s my job to help them find it whether or not it’s something I’d want to read. I guess I’m not really in either of Will’s categories.

At first I was a bit surprised and dismayed by a librarian who does not like to read, but then when I reflected on what Steve had to say, I came to the conclusion that in his disarming honesty he was on to something quite important:  As a non book reader and as an avid consumer of bytes of information, he actually might have a better understanding of today’s  student library users than any of us.

Last week we had fun ridiculing Twitter, but maybe the joke is on us.  We are in the middle of an information tornado with data swirling all around us.  Maybe the great communicators of wisdom and knowledge will no longer be the eloquent authors of long tomes like War and Peace, but rather the crafty wordsmiths who can do more with less…possibly even within the 140 character limit.

We’ve talked about the possibility that technology will kill the book, but maybe that’s not the issue at all.  Maybe readers will kill it willingly and without remorse.  Has the book length narrative become too long for the modern reader? 

Until that happens, I’ll paraphrase another of Woody Allen’s jokes: “Reality sucks but it’s the only place I know of where I can read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.”

And, by the way, it may be impossible to find a plumber on the weekend, but try finding a knowledgeable reader’s advisory librarian anytime.

Thoughts, anyone?

The Library profession, I suppose, has always been somewhat divided.  There have always been the public service people and the technical service people.

In our low tech past, the two groups did not seem to be all that far apart, but now at times it seems that they represent different professions altogether.

Today’s split I would characterize as the book people and the machine people.  I think that there are definitely the crossover people who have a foot in both camps, but my experience is that most librarians are either really into books or they are really into machines. 

In case you haven’t noticed, there is a large confab of librarians going on in our nation’s capital.  I took some time yesterday to look through  the list of programs and the list of exhibitors, and everything seems pretty much split down the middle between machine oriented programs and exhibit booths and author events and book exhibits.

Another manifestation of this professional divide can be seen in the hundreds of library blogs that have sprung up over the past five years.  Most blogs either deal with machines or they deal with books, but they rarely combine the two.  A book review blog, for example, rarely evaluates  a new piece of technology like the iPad, and a library technology blog rarely reviews the latest Toni Morrison novel.

Clearly, the book people got into library work because they love books, and the machine people got into librarianship because they like information technology.

Are the two groups in competition?  Absolutely.  As a former library administrator I will tell you that at budget time the machine people always wanted more money for machines and the book people always wanted more money for books.  But are the two groups also united by a singleness of purpose – to serve the patron?  Again…absolutely.  Both groups are passionate about services. 

What fascinates me is that it’s never been a better time to be a book librarian or a machine librarian.  When I read the book reviews in Booklist magazine and when I browse through the new book shelves at my local library I am amazed at the quality and diversity of books being published.  As one Unwinder put it (I think it was Jeanne),  we are in a golden age of books.  But I am equally impressed when I scan through library technology blogs and read about the creative ways in which librarians are using technology to access information and to reach out and connect with people and political bodies. 

What does this mean?  It means that because librarians have diversified themselves into two camps, books and machines, library patrons have never had more choices, and that’s a good thing!  The proof of this statement is self evident whenever I walk into my public library.  It is always packed with special emphasis on the computer room and the children’s department.

How terribly tragic that at this golden moment in the history of our profession, the financial foundations of our libraries are crumbling and as a result branches are being closed, hours are being cut, and librarians are being laid off.

What did Dickens say?  “It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times.”

Unwinders…here are some things to comment on:

• Is my division of the library profession into book people and machine people too simplistic?
• How would you categorize yourself in the library profession?
• Are the book librarians and the machine librarians friendly competitors or edgy compatriots?
• Who will the current economic slump hurt more?
• Do you agree this is the best of times to be a librarian?
• Do you agree it is the worst of times to be a librarian?
• Anything else you’d like to comment on?
• Let’s all give a shout out to Elissa for her excellent  ALA conference reports.

REMEMBER…THIS BLOG IS A GROUP EFFORT.  THANKS FOR YOUR HELP.  NOTICE THAT I USED AN AUTHOR TO CHARACTERIZE THESE TIMES FOR LIBRARIANS.

This week I earned the right to take a vacation from mysteries (see rule #4 on my Mystery Project page) and so I got reacquainted with an old friend, Henry David Thoreau.  Why did I pick him?  Because the topic of the week was the new versus the old.

Here’s what  Thoreau had to say about the new:  “Perhaps we are led oftener by the love of novelty, and a regard for the opinions of men, in procuring it, than by a true utility.” Goodness, is he talking about the iPad here? 

Then he goes on to say “Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract our attention from serious things. They are but improved means to an unimproved end. We are in great haste to construct a magnetic communicator  from Maine to Texas; but Maine and Texas, it may be, have nothing important to communicate.”   That sounds a bit like the Internet, doesn’t it?

In our discussion of the new versus the old, one area we didn’t touch upon was literature, specifically whether the classics still have a place in our culture. I’ve often wondered what a good working definition of a classic would be, but this question always clarifies itself whenever I open Walden.  A classic is a superlatively written work of literature (fiction or non) whose basic themes and messages are as relevant today as when they were written.   In the case of Walden, I actually think it’s more relevant today than it was in the mid 19^th century.

Let’s try applying that definition to our two oldest classics: The Iliad and The Odyssey.  I think it works very nicely.  The Iliad’s balanced view of the sorrows and glories of war works as well in Iraq and Afghanistan as it did in Troy.  How about The Odyssey?   It is still the definitive story of life as a journey.  In Friday’s post about visualizing your death, many of you referred to your lives as a journey.  Folks, that all started with The Odyssey.

When does a book become obsolescent?  That’s an easy one…when it no longer talks convincingly and meaningfully to the reader.  The classics live on because they still challenge us to think of the modern world in terms of ageless values. 

I don’t know how you felt about this past week’s discussions about the new and the old and about death and obsolescence,  but I thought your comments from Monday through Friday were consistently fascinating.  Every single day you put clusters of new insights and ideas into my head.   

Friday was to me the most interesting day we’ve ever had at Will Unwound.  Your discussions of “the good death”  really got into my brain.  I have read them over and over again and I keep coming back to something that my college philosophy professor, Ralph McInerny (yes, the Ralph McInerny of the Father Dowling mysteries), stressed with us….”The greatest philosophers are the ones who start with death and work backwards.”

About four years ago I participated in a “group think” at a large state university on what life in the year 2050 would be like.  There were about 20 of us in the group, 5 of whom were undergraduates.  4 of the 5 undergrads felt that death would be obsolete by the year 2050.  Nuff said!

The question of the day, Unwinders, harkens back to Friday’s challenge of visualizing your own death.  At least 60% of you had a book as an important part of your death scenario.  I found that fascinating.  My only quibble is that only two of you (Jess and R.A.) specified a title or an author.  That was very unlike you.  You guys love to throw out titles and discuss specific authors.  So…..the question of the day is….You have been told you have one day to live.  You are bed ridden.  What would be your final book of choice?

As lead lab rat, I will go first.  When my uncle (who was a priest) died, there was a copy of Dante’s Paradiso on his night stand.  He was obviously looking forward.  I think I would be looking backward and saying goodbye to planet earth.  For me there is no better book about planet earth than, you guessed it, Thoreau’s Walden.

Now it’s your turn.

This past Sunday I probably had my best Father’s Day ever.  

Here in Northern California the day was sunny and cool, I was released from my usual weekend chores, and best of all I hit 100% in the presents department.  One of the best things about being retired is that no one dares give you a necktie on Father’s Day. 

My most memorable Father’s Day necktie gift happened twenty years ago when my ten year old son Michael snuck into my closet the night before Father’s Day and snatched a necktie from the back of my tie rack, put it in a box, and wrapped it up.  He didn’t think I’d recognize it.  When I opened the box, I recognized it right away and teased him by saying, “This is absolutely beautiful, but you know I think it looks exactly like one I already have .”  When he looked down at his toes in embarrassment, I saved his pride by quickly adding, “No, that’s not right.  I’m confused. It looks exactly like one that I’ve always wanted.”  This made him beam with delight.  The truth is I was happy too.  Recycling neckties is a good start to saving the planet.

The best Father’s Day gift I ever received happened this past Sunday when my five year old grandson Liam came over to my house with a library book in hand.  “Grandpa,” he said, “I’m going to read you my first book.”  We sat on the floor together and page by page, Liam sounded out every word with enthusiasm.  The title of the book was Dot and the Dog, and I will always remember it.  How insightful of Liam to know that the best thing to give a librarian is a special reading memory.

I said a reading memory and not a reading book because giving a librarian a book is always risky business.  Chances are the librarian already has the book or has checked it out at the library or doesn’t like the book or is insulted by the assumption that he would like the book.   Then there is the sense of obligation the librarian has to read the book so that when the gift giver interrogates him about it, he can be polite and honest and talk intelligently about the book even if he never really wanted to read the book in the first place.  I guess what I am saying is that the last thing a librarian needs is another book to put on top of Mt. Bookpile or do you prefer the more patriotic term, Mt. Bookmore.

But I was also book lucky on Sunday.  I received two Father’s Day books and both hit the mark.  The first is an enormous 1,200 page book entitled The Black Lizard Book of Big Pulps.   In this two pound tome are contained the best detective stories that appeared in the celebrated pulp magazines of the 20s, 30s, and 40s, like Black Mask, Dime Detective, and Detective Fiction Weekly.  These are the classic tales that gave birth to the hard boiled detective genre.  They are the stories that feature hard hitting and chain smoking detectives, sultry dames with a nose for trouble, and the gin joints where they all hang out.   This book fits in perfectly with “My Year of the Murder Mystery.”

The other bulls eye gift is entitled Sweet Lou.  It’s a biography of Chicago Cubs Manager Lou Piniella.   This book is must reading for me because Lou and I are lookalikes.  Since I am always getting mistaken for Sweet Lou, I figure I ought to know everything about him so I can at least play the part in a convincing way.  Of course it’s a bit dangerous to be Lou’s double in Chicago.  The Cubs haven’t won a World Series in over a century, and Lou does not exactly have them primed and ready to go this summer.   In a word the Chicago fans are not real happy with Lou Piniella. 

Consider this true story.  A year and a half ago I was on my way to give a keynote address to the Iowa Library Association conference in Dubuque.  I had a 4 hour layover at Midway Airport in Chicago.  It was lunchtime so I settled in at the airport bar, ordered a club sandwich, and opened up a book.  Two stools to my right, a beer drinker surrounded by empty bottles looked at me and then scooted over.  “Lou,” he said, “I don’t blame you for the three straight playoff losses to the Dodgers, but those games ruined my life. “  Long story short : After the third straight Cub loss the man started drinking heavily, lost his job, was served divorce papers, wrapped his car around a light pole, and then went out and ceremoniously burned his valuable collection of Cubs gear, souvenirs, and collectibles.  “No, Lou, I don’t blame you.  I blame God, except I don’t believe in God anymore.”

Suffice it to say that when I am traveling to library speaking engagements in the Midwest, I now try to avoid layovers at Midway.  By the way I’ve always been proud to be Lou’s lookalike.  He’s a colorful character.  Check out this video of Sweet Lou. 

Unwinders:  Here are some things to think about and comment on regarding the subject of books as gifts for our weekend book chat. Please don’t feel you have to stick to this format.

• Do you like giving and getting books for gifts?
• Do you agree it is a gamble to give another librarian a book for a present?
• Be honest…do you ever re-gift your books?  Do you ever take your book gifts back to the store and exchange them for something you really want?
• Be honest…did you ever suspect that the book you received as a present was a re-gift?
• Do you feel obligated to read books you receive as gifts?
• What is the best book you ever received as a gift?
• Which do you prefer for a gift: a)actual books or b) a gift card to a bookstore?
• If someone gave you a bookstore gift card would you spend it on books or coffee?
• What type of gift do you like getting the most?

REMEMBER…THIS BLOG IS A GROUP EFFORT.  THANKS FOR YOUR HELP.  CAN YOU BELIEVE HOW MUCH BOOKS COST IN THE BOOK STORE?

It’s Fantasy Friday and in keeping with this week’s theme of death and obsolescence, we will be featuring your favorite death fantasies.

Before you throw up your hands and mutter something like “sick joke,” hear me out.  Yesterday’s post about death and human obsolescence created a fascinating conversation among the unwinders about what Carol Ann so aptly termed “a good death.”

What is a good death?  The strong consensus was we’re not entirely sure exactly what a good death is, but we know what it isn’t, and what it isn’t is a series of intrusive and painful medical treatments and surgeries to preserve a faint heartbeat.  It is most assuredly not wasting away day by day and putting a terrible burden upon your survivors.

But that still begs the question…”what is a good death?”  I suppose that’s subjective.  I know how I’d like to die, what my memorial service would be like, what I want my gravestone to say, and how I would like my body handled.

These are issues that we all need to think about.  In fact it is very healthy to think about them.

As lead lab rat, I’ll go first:

Mode of Death  Fantasy – At the age of 82, all alone I slice a drive off the 15th tee at the local muni golf course and my ball dribbles into a wooded area.  As I search around in this beautiful little pocket of greenery, my head spins, my chest aches, I twirl around, fall, and within 15 seconds die of a massive  heart attack.  Since I am in the woods and not on the fairway, my sudden demise does not stop play on the golf course for very long.  Also the 15^th hole is very close to the club house, so the disruption to my fellow golfers is minimal.  It’s a clean death…no hospital stay, no drugs, no operations, not even a hospice.

Post death Fantasy – After dying on the golf course, I wake up in a warmly decorated bedroom filled with book shelves where a kindly old nurse smiles at me and explains that I am in the death recovery room.  She explains that I have died and that once I acclimate to my new realm of existence I can proceed to the self evaluation lodge where counselors will guide me through the whys and wherefores of my previous life.  Everything that happened to me in life will be explained to me by these guides.  From there it is on to a reunion with all my family members and friends who have preceded me to the other side.  Beyond that, I don’t have a good feel for what happens next.

Method of Body Disposal – Cremation

Gravestone or Urn Epitaph – Go in peace

Memorial Service – Dignified low Catholic Mass with “Ave Maria” sung during Communion.  No homilies, sermons, eulogies, remembrances, sign in books, photographs, or power points.   No wake. No viewing. No cold cuts and beer reception. And please, please, please no potlucks!

Final Earthly Fantasy – As my grandkids walk to their cars after the funeral Mass, one of them says, “Grandpa Will was a cool Grandpa.”  The others nod in agreement.

UNWINDERS…NOW IT’S YOUR TURN.  WHAT IS YOUR FANTASY OF A GOOD DEATH?  YOU DO NOT NEED TO FOLLOW MY FORMAT.  FEEL FREE TO IMPROVISE TO YOUR HEART’S CONTENT.

REMEMBER…THIS BLOG IS A GROUP EFFORT.  THANKS FOR YOUR HELP.  GO IN PEACE. 

It’s been an interesting week with our theme centering around embracing new technologies while actively preserving and promoting the use of obsolescent technologies.  

We have basically agreed that balancing the old with the new is a personal decision that should not be influenced by advertising, marketing, or peer pressure.  It’s okay to tell ghost stories around the campfire one night, take a copy of Emerson’s Essays to bed with you the next, and read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo on a Kindle the following night.  By the same token it gives a rich diversity to our lives to write a long rambling letter with a fountain pen to our mother in the morning and compose a quick Twitter message about the experience for all the world to see five minutes later  – “Just wrote a snail mail to Mom with my Mont Blanc.  Letter ended when ink ran dry.  Tweet.”

But what about human beings?   What do you newbies do with us when we become obsolescent? As I inch toward my 61^st birthday and get more embedded in the old age cohort to which I now belong, I think about this a lot.  Am I the anthropological equivalent of a Smith Corona electric typewriter?  Would I best serve my fellow men and women by volunteering to be a living artifact in the local history museum?

Some years ago I wrote a book entitled, The Truth About Catalogers.  In it I expressed disappointment at the glee with which catalogers were abandoning their old card catalogs as the new com cats came on line.  It bothered me quite a bit that this abandonment was swift and unsentimental.  Did catalogers have no feelings for the resource to which they had devoted their entire careers?  Apparently not because they seemed to take a wicked delight in holding frivolous contests about what to do with old card catalogs.  Surely others saw the disrespect in suggesting that catalog drawers could be used as storage bins for everything from potatoes and onions to socks and underwear.

To get back at these unfeeling librarians I suggested several creative things that could be done with a dead cataloger: a) scarecrow to keep flies off library staff barbecue outings, b) printer stand, c) lawn sculpture, d) library security guard, e) door stopper, f) coffee table in the reading room, g) prop for Halloween story hour, h) car companion so that the library director could drive in the car-pool lane on the freeway, and i) projection screen holder.

Death is, of course, the ultimate manifestation of your obsolescence.  Unless you can be used as an extra in a horror movie you’ve pretty much worn out your welcome on planet earth.   In fact, in the retirement book that I am working on I have a chapter on planning your own obituary, body disposal method, and memorial service (please, no power points!).  When you hit the big six-oh, that’s job one.  Don’t dump the death details on your loved ones.  Man up, do it yourself, and above all, prepay.

Okay, now what?  You’ve retired, you’ve planned and pre-paid your death, and you wake up one morning pondering your role in a world where new and young are king and queen.  It is quite a dilemma. When black and white  televisions, 8 track tape players, and super 8 mm film loops became obsolete no one tried to elongate their existence.  In our throwaway society it was on to the landfill for them.

But for humans it’s just the opposite.  Today modern medical technology keeps us alive.  Is that why we still exist…to serve as a cash cow for the medical industry?  In the old days, people conveniently died somewhere between 65 and 75.  Not anymore!

 As old folks in their 80s, 90s, and 100s suck up more and more of our national financial resources, the big political controversy will be: What do we do with all these old people?  Anybody got any ideas? 

Unwinders: what do you do with millions of obsolescent human beings in a high tech world?  Be bold, be creative, be irreverent, but most of all keep the whole concept of sustainability in mind.

As lead lab rat, I will go first.  Number one, I would give old people and their families more realistic medical options.  To me the medical industry is pushing to keep people alive at all costs.  I believe that death is (no pun intended) a viable option, and I am not talking about euthanasia.  I am talking about exercising the option not to undergo debilitating treatments and surgeries just to preserve a heart beat.  A big purpose of death is to end the pain and suffering of life.  That concept should be embraced. 

Number 2, just as death is a part of life, so is aging.  Old is old and no amount of botox can get around that reality.  If old people have a purpose it is to look old so that young people don’t have unrealistic notions about being young forever.  There is a spiritual dimension to just being really old. Therefore, let’s keep old people integrated into the mainstream of life and not hide them in old age ghettoes of shame.

Number 3, old people everywhere should be writing down their life stories in indelible ink and durable paper.  The apocalypse is coming and we need to preserve as many stories as possible for future generations of survivors.  In fact, I would like to see libraries start a “Get your story down on paper!” campaign with old people as the target market.

Now it’s your turn, Unwinders.  Be bold and think old!

Kudos, Unwinders, you did yourself proud yesterday. 

Your comments were eminently Emersonian.  They were filled with the old fashioned values of self reliance, prudence, practicality, intellect, manners, character, and heroism.  All of these traits are the titles of essays written by the master American thinker, Ralph Waldo Emerson.  In this presto chango world in which we live, Emerson should be required reading for all.

He believed foremost in the American spirit, that blend of idealism and independence that distinguished the United States from every other country in his lifetime.  What was wonderfully re-assuring to me about your comments yesterday is that you refuse to be stampeded into blindly following the next big thing.  You value your freedom to pick and choose those accoutrements of modern living that make sense to you.  

 Images from yesterdays comments that stick in my mind:

• Clothes flapping around on a backyard clothes line in the lift of an early afternoon breeze
• Cooking and making music around a campfire
• Paddling a canoe on a brisk June morning on a pristine mountain lake
• Baking bread in a wood fired oven
• Sitting on the front porch with a cup of coffee and reading a real book or newspaper
• Pushing a reel mower on a hot afternoon and then resting in the hammock out back with a freshly squeezed glass of lemonade
• Writing a personal letter to your mother with a fountain pen
• Browsing through old and yellowed black and white family photos
• Pedaling a bicycle not for exercise but to get somewhere
• Listening to time travel with the tick, tick, tick of a wind up clock
• Walking through the pillars of an old Carnegie Library and feeling a sense of elevation

All of yesterday’s comments were wonderful, but R.A. Stewart reached a level of eloquence and spirituality that merits special attention.  I have reprinted his comment and placed it first in today’s comment section.  It is required reading, Unwinders.  Thank goodness he was not limited to 140 characters!  Emerson is smiling somewhere down at R.A.

Today, I have decided to turn to another of Emerson’s values….good old Yankee ingenuity.  We Americans have been blessed with many labor saving and pain preventing new technologies.  Some have improved our lives, others…not so much. 

THE QUESTION OF THE DAY, UNWINDERS, IS WHAT TECHNOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENTS OF THE LAST 50 YEARS DO YOUR VALUE THE MOST?

As the lead lab rat, I will go first.  This is an easy one for me…word processing.  I started writing books and articles for publication in 1980.  Since then I have written nine books and over 500 magazine articles.  This would have been completely impossible without word processing.  Whenever I am in an antique store, I get a sick spot in my stomach when I see a typewriter.  Typewriters for me meant start all over at the top and write draft after draft until you finally get it right.  Often times I didn’t get it right because I just couldn’t bear the thought of doing one more draft.   I hate typewriters.  

My second technological love is blogging.  Back in 1980 if you would have told me about a world in which I could sit down at a typewriter type of keyboard,  type on that keyboard,  watch words appear on a television screen,  press a button labeled “publish,” have those words go to thousands of television screens all over the world,  have people read those words and then respond by typing their own words, which would then appear on everybody else’s television screen, I would have asked, “What part of the science fiction collection have you been browsing around in now?” 

Unwinders, it did not pass my notice that yesterday at least five of you noted the irony of singing the praises of obsolete technology on a blog format. 

Thank goodness for yesterday’s comments.  Unwinders, it was your finest hour.  Now remember to read R.A.’s comment reprinted below.  *Shivers*

Yesterday’s post was about Twitter.  Basically in 140 characters or less the post said “Will doesn’t get Twitter, but that’s okay since Will didn’t get blogging either.  So why Twitter?”

The comments were very interesting.  About half said they didn’t get Twitter either.  The other half did get Twitter.  To them Twitter is important for the following reasons:

• Good for emergencies.
• Instantaneous and free way to keep in touch with those who matter in your life.
• Good way to announce bridge closings and snow days.
• Good way to follow book awards when you can’t actually attend award banquets in real time.
• Good way to follow fave authors.
• Interesting people tweet interesting messages.
• Good way to announce library special events.
• Good way for people with hearing impairments to keep in touch with loved ones.
• Good way to know what is going on in program A when you are attending program B in real time at library conferences.
• Provides for open space conversations even if those conversations are prosaic.
• Good way to get advice on what ALA conference programs to attend for newbies.
• Good way to announce library closures due to power outages.
• Good way to keep in touch with the Blago corruption trial in Illinois.

With all disrespect, I still don’t get Twitter.  You could do all of those things without Twitter. 

What did impress me about yesterday’s comments, however, were the number of people who still use obsolete technologies.  Many of these people are also Twitterers.  Soooo cool. Twitterers respect the past.

Who knew there were so many librarians who have a fondness for Donkey Kong, fountain pens, 8 tracks, slide carrousels,  slide rules, ditto machines (at least the high you get from the ink), and trash dos computers.

The question of the day, Unwinders, is what obsolete technologies do you still use, revere, or at least hold in some degree of fondness and respect.  Be bold.

As always I will be the lab rat and go first.  The obsolete technology I most hold in reverence is the horse and buggy.  If we had stuck with the horse and buggy, Greenland would not be melting and BP would not be ruining the Gulf of Mexico.

Oh, and if you want to take a second run at convincing me that Twitter is an important new technology, have at it.  By the way, I had a turkey, tomato, and lettuce sandwich for lunch today.  Tweet, tweet.

Things I get:

• Fountain pen   
• Polaroid camera   
• Ditto machine
• Slide carousel 
• 8 Track Tape  
• IBM pc jr.  
• Donkey Kong  

I don’t want to bore you with a longer list but I get all these things above that I have provided links to.  I understand their use if not their necessity.  In fact I think I understand most technological innovations that weave their way into the pop culture.   I ignore most of them but I get them.

But I don’t get Twitter. 

I understand that Twitter is becoming more and more popular and I understand that many librarians think it has the potential to be a powerful tool for libraries, but I don’t know why.  What intrigues me about Twitter is that many readers are referred to this blog from Twitter messages.  I have gotten hundreds of new readers from Twitter, which makes me happy, but I still don’t get Twitter.   

Why don’t I get Twitter?  It doesn’t make sense to me.  If you browse through the internet you can easily get into many different Twitter accounts.  I misspent a couple of hours last week  (should have been reading mysteries) poking around in 20 or 30 random Twitter accounts and here is a sampling of the messages I read:

• Dirty Doug’s hot dogs rock.  Just 8 one with xtra onions.
• Bought red Sharpie today.  M xcited!  Have only had black b4. Tweet!
• Can’t find tangerine Altoids anywhere.  *Sighs*
• U.S. team needs to bear down.  Arrrrgh.
• Laundry day today. Soooo not ready for laundry.
• Got 38 new BBFs this week.
• Sky getting cloudy.
• I’m gr8!
• Well, crap.

In my two hours of browsing Twitter random messages I found nothing funny, profound, or interesting.  It was all so ordinary…the ordinary expressed in the most ordinary way possible.   

Why would someone Twitter the message “Well, crap?”  Why would anyone waste their day sending out Twitter messages that are …well, crap?

I’m not being satirical here.  I’m being soooo serious.  I simply don’t get it and I soooo want to get it.  Arrgh!  I’m keeping an open mind….tweet, tweet !

For many years I didn’t get blogging and now that I’m blogging I soooo get it.  I love blogging.  I love setting up a new dialogue every day with all of you.   I now have soooo many BFFs because of blogging.  Will Twitter do the same for me once I give it a chance?

QUESTIONS FOR UNWINDERS

1. Sooooo, Unwinders, would someone please tell me what Twitter is really all about and why I should start Twittering.
2. Is there a place for Twitter in your library?
3. Fill in the blank –  “Twitter is soooo__________.”
4. Multiple choice: Twitter is a) friend filled fun;  b) an important means of communication;  c) a colossal waste of time,  d) one more manifestation of a narcissistic culture,  e) a passing fad that will be as relevant in 5 years as 8 track tapes;  f) all of the above.    Note: you are not limited to one choice.
5. If I started Twittering, how many of you would follow my tweets on a regular basis?  Be honest.  You definitely won’t hurt my feelings by saying “No.”  Remember, I’m retired and take a lot of naps.  Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….tweet, tweet!
6. Any nostalgic memories of the 7 obsolete technologies I listed at the beginning of the post?

REMEMBER…THIS BLOG IS A GROUP EFFORT.  THANKS FOR YOUR HELP.  DIRTY DOUG’S HOT DOGS ROCK!