My photo life

This blog hasn't quite turned out like I thought it would. I guess my thoughts that don't get an outlet on my classic movie or current media blogs aren't as interesting as I hoped. I'm not giving up it or anything, and I'll still keep posting whatever I feel like, but I think I will also use this as an outlet for some of my picture-taking (it's so amateurish and improvised, I can't even call it "photography").

A friend is using her blog to participate in a photo-a-day project on Flickr, which inspired me to use this blog to post photos. I take pictures in fits and spurts, so I could never really take a photo a day, or even post one a day out of my backlog of pictures. But I will start posting one or two as I feel the urge, sometimes arty expression, but more often simply documenting my surroundings. Like with the above picture of my library's newspaper archives (such as they are) up in what we call the "balcony," or the below picture showing an aisle in the balcony . Some of these will undoubtedly duplicate my Flickr photostream and Facebook postings, but if you're upset about that, I'll give you back your admission fee.

Sign of the times

A Flickr contact posted this picture of a sign along the road that says "SIGN." I chuckled at the postmodern meta-ness of it all, but was downright startled when a day or two later, I came in the front door of our library to see this sign up for all the world to see:


Signs of the time, or just signs of signs? This is truly an example of the much-discussed empty signifier, ain't it?

Bad cataloging decision #158

So I'm cataloging a DVD of the movie The Informers; it's based on a Bret Easton Ellis book, so of course it's full of decadent young people doing drugs (and each other, as the jacket copy states) and coming to bad ends. The plot summary in the record, apparently pulled off of IMDb, ends by saying that these kids don't realize that "they are dancing on the edge of a volcano,"a phrase which I understand for what it is, a metaphor for acting recklessly, heedless of the coming consequences. Imagine my surprise when I am editing the subject lines and find "Volcanoes--California--Los Angeles--Drama." I screamed out loud in both mirth and horror. What's even worse is that that subject line wasn't added locally, in our consortium, but came in that way from a national cataloging agency. I spent a while doing some research to make sure that a literal volcano does not play a part in the climax. I'm still a little in shock and a little in awe.

Happiness is...

Generally, I'm a happy guy, certainly on the surface and usually inside as well. I'm not sure I'm an optimist; in a given situation, I usually assume the best thing won't happen and I hope the worst thing won't happen, so I aim for mid-range expectations. I certainly spend a fair amount of time in the doldrums and I can get blackly depressed, but these moods tend to last for hours rather than days or weeks. I've always remembered an incident in high school when I woke up pissed off at the world, and I vowed to let everybody know exactly how I felt, but when I got to school and got around people, my mood evaporated. That morning, a friend, apropos of nothing, said to me, "Ritchie, how can you always be so cheery?" I wanted to yell back, "Goddamn it, I'm not cheery, I'm angry and depressed!!" but I didn't; I just smiled and said, "Dunno."

This comes up in light of an article in the June Atlantic about what makes us happy, based on a series of longitudinal studies (groups of people studied over a wide range of years), in particular one begun in the 30's with a group of Harvard students who are still being followed today. Certainly a group of Ivy Leaguers is not necessarily representative of the general population, but some of the findings about happiness are interesting. First, the happiest people are those who use "mature" defenses when faced with challenges; instead of resorting to paranoia or passive-aggressive behavior or turning inward into fantasy, they use humor, altruism, sublimation, and conscious suppression. I'm not sure about the altruistic response, but I'm a master at other three--though I must admit I have been known to indulge in passive-aggressive behavior and I have a rich fantasy life, though I don't think of it as a response to challenges as much as an outlet for, well, fantasizing.

Successful aging and happiness are also dependent on a handful of other factors: education, stable marriage, not smoking, not abusing alcohol, some exercise, and healthy weight. All of those things pretty much apply to me:

1) I'm overeducated.

2) I've been with Don in a committed relationship for 19 years (because we're both men, I can't use the word "marriage" with any real meaning--do I sound bitter? Maybe I need to use a mature defense).

3) I've never smoked--except for three weeks of clove cigarettes in my 20s when I was trying to be a poseur.

4) My intake of alcohol is small, a couple of beers or glasses of wine a week (I can't remember the last time I was truly drunk, a fact I'm not necessarily proud of, because some of the best stories I tell about myself involve being under the influence of one substance or another)

5) I do get exercise, and "some" is a good word to describe how much.

6) I am technically a smidge overweight for my height, I guess, but overall I'm in better physical shape than I was in my 30's.

The director of the study says, somewhat reductively, that "the only thing that really matters in life are your relationships to other people" and that alcoholism is the biggest obstacle in the path of happiness. Though I have never cultivated lots of friendships, I do have people who make me happy and who I can confide in and who I can act silly around, and of course I have Don. My father was an alcoholic--though since it didn't interfere with his work life, he would never have labeled himself that way--and, since I have an addictive streak anyway, I have more or less consciously avoided that trap.

Though I have my regrets, and I'm not quite where I thought I'd be at this point in my life, I'm still generally happy. Traumatic events have happened to me--the break-up of my first live-in relationship in particular sent me into a brief tailspin--but I guess sublimating and suppressing are healthy responses after all, despite the bad rap they get. Now that the Atlantic Monthly has confirmed that I'm happy, I'm *really* happy!

Portland, Oregon, August 2009: Part 2

Shopping: Well, the big draw for me was Powell's City of Books, the country's largest independent bookstore, which takes up an entire city block. Bookstores were always a big draw for me wherever I visited, but I have lately felt a bit jaded about them; been there, done that, can't find anything, go to Amazon. But Powell's was pretty fabulous. Lots of big color-coded rooms crammed with books (but not claustrophobic feeling) with content clearly labeled (literature in the Blue Room, science fiction in the Gold Room, etc.), huge shelving units, and best of all, used and out-of-print books shelved together. I also particularly liked their section of recent "first novels" in the Green Room. I snatched up some hard-to-find fantasy novels by A. Merritt (and read one, The Moon Pool, while in Portland) among other things, and after two visits, was afraid to ask if they shipped books, because I could have done some serious credit card damage.

I also found ways to occupy myself at Columbia Sportswear and Fossil, which, to my surprise, had t-shirts (our Fossil only has watches and accessories), lovely soft t-shirts which fit me perfectly. I also bought a few things at Under U 4 Men, a men's underwear store, but I'll leave that to your imagination.

Sights: Chinatown was a disappointment (kinda dissipated and smelly--and not good Chinese food smells), but we enjoyed visiting the Classical Chinese Garden; lots of beautifully arranged small gardens, reflecting pools, stone walkways, and rooms and views for contemplation (though it's really too full of tourists for much silent time). Lots of pics in my Portland Flickr set. We also liked Pioneer Courthouse Square (pictured above), a nice place for sitting, sipping coffee, and people watching. On Friday nights in the summer, they show free movies there, and we happened to stroll by just as the first dinosaur scene in Jurassic Park was playing, and that being a favorite movie moment of Don's, we hung around a few minutes. A couple evenings were spent just walking, in perfect summer weather, through parts of town not too far from our hotel (the leafy South Park blocks, pictured below, and the "cultural" district).

I was most excited about seeing the M.C. Escher exhibit, "Virtual Worlds." I loved Escher's paradoxical architecture and flights of fancy when I was in college, and seeing this exhibit has re-awakened my interest--at least to the point where an Escher calendar will be on my Christmas wish list. Most interesting to me were the early woodcuts from the 30's and 40's which I'd never seen before. I was sorry that there was no published catalog I could have bought. The rest of the museum was OK (no photography allowed, sadly) although we noticed an awful lot of dust on many of the permanent collection items.

Finally, there was the quirky little Voodoo Doughnuts. As a donut connoisseur, I couldn't leave town without at least one visit there, up near Old Town. Every time I walked past it, there was a line of at least 15 people snaking out onto the sidewalk (it's in a very small space). Twice I braved the line, a mix of locals and curious tourists, to snag a donut or two. Their specialties are elaborate and occasionally rather kinky confections (a Dirty Snowball, a Maple & Bacon donut, and the rather obvious Cock & Balls), but I stuck with a good old cake donut with vanilla frosting and sprinkles and it was just fine, if not exactly magical (pictured moments before it disappeared down my belly). Overall, a very nice visit to a moderately interesting city. If Don reminds me of any other details I should share, I will. [The picture of the Powell's room is from their web site; the other photos are mine]

Portland, Oregon, August 2009: Part 1

Our last several vacations have been to New York City or Chicago, or family visits to Maine. This year, Don signed up for Sock Summit, a convention for sock knitters, in Portland, Oregon, and we decided to make it our '09 vacation--after not really getting in a vacation together in '08. We had been to Eugene, Oregon many years ago for an academic conference and we were both charmed by its slightly funky but crisp, clean atmosphere; it felt like a small big town, or a big small-college town, with lots of boutiques, interesting restaurants, and a huge weekend arts fair. Assuming Portland would be like Eugene, I figured that while Don was at the Summit (2 or 3 hours each day), I could occupy my time with street strolling and bookstore visits.

Portland does have a compact downtown area, easily walkable, though if your legs get tired, there's also a light rail system which is free of charge in the downtown area. But the vibe of the city is a little weirder than Eugene (hence the sign above). The downtown is grungier than I was expecting, with several empty buildings and a fairly large homeless and/or panhandling population. Some areas are artsy and almost collegiate (it's home to Portland State University, just a few blocks south of our hotel), some are crammed with shopping, some are lovely tree-lined neighborhoods, and some are traditional run-down "old town" sections.

We stayed at the Paramount, only a couple blocks away from the heart of downtown, Pioneer Courthouse Square and the multi-level shopping mall Pioneer Place, and had no complaints about the lodgings: lovely lobby, free computers and Internet access, and a friendly staff, and we had a nice view from our 15th floor room of the very green South Park blocks (pictured at top).

Eats: Our first night, being jet-lagged, we wanted dinner at 3:30; we waited until 4:30 but the place we had picked didn’t open until 5, so we wound up at Greek Cuisina (above), a perfectly fine Greek restaurant with a big purple octopus as its logo. Best drink of the trip was here, a Bombay Cooler, which was gin with pomegranate and grapefruit juice. We had a good breakfast at Mother's Bistro, though we weren't crazy about being crammed in next to three other tables when there was no one else in the restaurant [bitchy rant about hosts/hostesses who do this deleted], but had a better breakfast at the smaller, funkier Bijou Café (below) up near Old Town--in fact, we ate there twice!


My realization about food while traveling is that it's not really about the quality of the food, but more about the atmosphere. For example, in Chicago with friends this past spring, we ate at Topolobampo, a ritzy Rick Bayless restaurant. The food was too high-end for me, but the experience of eating there was memorable. I'm not sure we had as memorable a meal in Portland, but the two that stand out were Deschutes Brewery & Public House (a Portland microbrew pub) up in the Pearl District, and Lolo's, a Tapas restaurant where we met 17 of Don's closest on-line knitting buddies whom he'd never met in person before. I unadventurously had burgers at both places, but the ambience of the each restaurant was enjoyable--loud and lively.

Part 2 in a day or so...

Library day in the life

This is my contribution to the "library day in the life" meme. I think we're supposed to do this for a whole week, but I happen to be going on vacation tomorrow, and when I come back, my job will be a bit different (30 hours in Tech Services, 10 hours on the Reference desk), so I may re-visit this later.

The assignment: "Whether you are a librarian or library worker of any kind, help us share and learn about the joys and challenges of working in a library. Join us by sharing details of your day for a week on your blog. Not only is this a great way for us to see what our colleagues are doing and how they spend their days but it’s a great way for students who are interested in the library profession to see what we really do."

OK:

6:22: Alarm goes off--up to watch the local weathercast, into the shower, smooch the honey (who is already up and sitting at the computer), and leave the house by 7:00.

7:25: Arrive at my suburban library armed with coffee and donut; the only other people around are housekeeping folks. (Pic of darkened computer room at right.) I like to get here early to look at the New York Times online and maybe bang out a quick blog post, movie review, or tweet, or pick a few songs to DJ at blip.fm.

8:00: At my desk in Tech Services, downstairs, a wall-less cubicle. I catalog and process all the non-fiction books (except reference), DVDs, and children's books. Processing is minimal, as the books come in already wrapped; I stamp and put call number labels on books, and put rating and library address labels on DVDs. Fascinating, I know, but I do enjoy my work.

8:15: I buzz through a shelf of new titles, checking to see how many have full bib records in our system already (we are part of a consortium and share records with several other small libraries).

8:25: For those books without full bibs, I go to BookWhere to import records. For the handful I can't find there, I go to WorldCat, try to find a full record, and cut and paste what I can. For what's left, I compose an original bib record. The rest of the morning consists of me editing the records and attaching item records for each individual book.

My TS desk: note movie posters, Silver Surfer, pictures
of Jeremy Piven, Marx Bros. bears, and
year-round Christmas tree.

10:30: My buddy over in Acquisitions and I take our break together, our first 15-minute walk of the day, through the lovely shady streets of the suburb in which our library is located. Gossip and vulgar chat usually, with an occasional foray into philosophy.

12:30: Finished with my non-fiction books, I take my hour-long lunch, today at Qdoba, though I have a choice of many fast-food places (McDonald's, Taco Bell, Panda Express), slow/fast places (Panera), and sit-down restaurants. Any spare time during the hour I use to flip through newspapers and/or visit with my friends up in Reference.

1:30: Back at my desk (TS overview at left) with a load of DVDs, mostly catch-up on films for YS (Youth Services), like Jetsons: The Movie, and Wonder Pets: Ollie's Slumber Party. Boxed sets are a bitch, as they need to be totally re-packaged, with covers photocopied and/or cobbled together. Only one such set today.

2:20: The Secret of Loch Ness is giving me a problem. It's a DVD from one of several cheapie knock-off companies that market films that are kind of like other, more popular movies--a few weeks ago, I cataloged Plan Bee, an animated film marketed to look like Jerry Seinfeld's Bee Movie. This Loch Ness DVD looks like The Water Horse, but is actually, from what I can tell, a German made-for-TV movie. It's difficult to find out much information about it. I use Amazon, DVD Empire, or IMDb to flesh out bib record info that is not present on the product, but even the IMDb page for this film is fairly skimpy. Still, I got the bare minimum. It's actually "problems" like this that make my job challenging and fun.

3:30: Walk #2, with a Mounds Minature to get my flagging energy up.

4:45: Home stretch: cleaning up the desk, brushing blank labels and unneeded work slips into the trash, dumping empty coffee cups (yes, plural), trying to look busy for the last 15 minutes of the work day ;-)

5:00: On my way home, iPod plugged in so the car will be rockin'! Tonight, it's REM, Rolling Stones, The Go-Gos, Neil Young, Marvin Gaye, and the Decemberists.

The rest of my day is mostly non-library related (cooking dinner for Don and I; watching Jeopardy, Daily Show, Colbert Report; writing a blog entry, net surfing, watching a DVD--from Netflix, the library, or our extensive collection of mostly older movies). For me, this is how library work is different from my years in academics--as a grad student and teacher, "work" was always brought home, one way or another; here, it very rarely is, unless I'm still stewing about a squicky decision I might have made about a bib record. If I weren't going on vacation, it would all start again tomorrow at 6:22. But maybe I'll sleep in until 7:00!