"B" Authors -- Give This Dog a Bone!

My dog, Polo, has been at work picking out audiobooks again. It works best to limit his choices to certain author names so he doesn't chase all over the alphabet. After all, I have a short attention span and might not remember which authors we've already sampled.

The Windfall

Mr. and Mrs. Jha have lived with adequate comfort in their East Delhi home, but everything must change when Mr. Jha sells a website and they come into sudden wealth. Nothing about their current situation is good enough -- so he rushes to buy a big house in the best neighborhood, fill it with amazing new furniture, park a fancy car in the garage, and impress his potential new friends. 

Polo's favorite scene: There is a certain painting activity that is both hilarious and horribly embarrassing. Also, Polo dreams about being the Jha's family dog and living in the (literal) lap of luxury.

Once We Were Brothers

A modern-day court drama requires a detailed exploration of the past in this historical novel with a mystery. Two boys grew up in Poland during World War II; one of them became a Nazi; the other had to hide. In present-day Chicago, one man is an elderly widower. But did that young Polish boy, who was forced to join the German army, become a well-known millionaire? Or is this all just the confused imagining of a lonely old man?

Polo's best feature: The narrator's use of different voices and slight accents makes the story easy to follow as it goes from the 1930s to the present.

The Throwback Special

I remember the play. It was Monday Night Football, 1985, Washington Redskins versus the New York Giants. Joe Theismann suffered an injury seen by millions of fans on live television. If you were a football fan, you remember it, too. That one play changed Joe's life, and the moment lives on in twenty-two men who get together every year to re-enact it (but without the actual injury). No matter how much -- or how little -- changes in their lives, these men have a standing commitment to meet every year. Just them, no girlfriends or wives or children or distractions, going through the motions in exact detail. The real story here isn't the football play, but the men's real lives and inner conversations.  

Polo's highlight: Playing ball on a grassy field with friends. What could be better?

MWF Seeking BFF

A real-life young married white female (MWF) moves to Chicago and misses her old best friends forever (BFFs). Needing someone to be able to call for spur-of-the-moment manicures or movie nights, Rachel Bertsche embarks on a year-long project to find new friends. Her goal is to have one friend-date per week, hoping that at least a few of her new contacts will lead to more friend-dates which will blossom into real friendships. The narrator's energy is contagious, and I felt myself wondering if I should try this experiment!

Polo's take: This is all complicated and ridiculous! If you want to make a friend, all you have to do is watch for friendly body language and ask them to scratch behind your ears. If they also give you a treat, you're true BFFs.

"A" is for Author -- Listening to Books with Polo, Letter by Letter

This material originally appeared on our library's website. I was fortunate to have been allowed to post book reviews there for a time. Please pardon the awkward formatting -- I'll try to fix it later. 

Sometimes I let my dog pick out books. Polo can’t actually read, so I limit his search options to things we can download and listen to together. I should warn you that Polo’s not a great fan of romance (too mushy), sci-fi (non-human creatures make him bark), or horror (he parks his 80 pounds of fear in my lap), but he enjoys a good mystery and a good all-around story. In order to keep track of new authors, we’re starting to move through the alphabet one letter at a time.

Here are our top three selections from authors whose last names begin with the letter A.

Adrenaline

This book opens with adrenaline, as the main character runs through his parkour workout in a half-constructed building in London. Leaping off one wall, scaling another, flying across gaps two stories high, grasping, clinging, propelling himself to the next ledge. The plot of the entire book follows these unpredictable twists and turns, from one danger to another. Part spy novel, part heartbreaking story of love lost, this was a great listen – and there’s a dog at the end! 

A Darkness Absolute

Way up north in Canada’s Yukon Territory is a secret town. Everyone who lives there has a deep, dark secret. Rockton is forbiddingly remote, a place for extreme witness protection. In deepest winter, the darkness is long and the suspense longer. When a resident takes off, it’s up to the local police force to find him before he freezes to death. But while searching for him, Detective Casey Duncan stumbles upon a woman being held in a cave. Who kidnapped her? How did they keep this secret? Will Casey and Chief Erik Dalton be able to prevent another kidnapping? Not only does this story provide chilling suspense, but Kelley Armstrong builds a fascinating community of characters whose company I missed when the book ended. Good thing there are more titles in this series, and Polo was thrilled about the big puppy who appears midway in this book. 

Thin Places

Skye’s mother disappeared after they were involved in a scary one-car accident. Although Skye was soon placed in a permanent foster home, she never felt like she belonged anywhere. Despite her emotional disconnect, Skye grows up and prepares to go away to college. The mystery of her mother’s disappearance finally begins to come out as Skye develops new friendships and opens up to a counselor. Can she ever have a relationship with her mother again? What happens to the fragile ties with her foster mom? If you haven’t yet read an “indie” book (produced by an independent publisher), try this one. (Although it's not available in audio formats, the book was short enough for me to read aloud with Polo.)

Well-Known People Here -- Right Here!

Libraries are gathering places for people who like books. But they're also places where interesting ideas are exchanged, where stories are told and culture is shared. And, occasionally, where famous or semi-famous names may appear.

In my oh-so-long library career, I have been privileged to attend a lot of programs and some very good staff training events. And I have met a total of three "famous" people in these official settings. (I can't talk about all the famous people I've helped. Patron privacy is a big deal in the library.)

The first big name was Nancy Pearl, known first as a Seattle librarian, then as the author of the Book Lust series of books and broadcasts. She is so well known that she has her own action figure! Not only does she know a lot about a lot of books, but she teaches others how to identify certain elements about the last good book they read. This, in turn, helps form ideas about what sort of book to suggest next. Great workshop, excellent presentation.

My next famous meeting was with a children's music performer, who also was part of a rock band some time ago. He gave up the nighttime gig in favor of family, and nonchalantly shook my hand as he said, "Hi, I'm Caspar Babypants." Wow. Way to embrace your alter ego, Chris!

Last weekend, a retired TV meteorologist came to talk about the dangers and wonders of mountain weather. What a voice! I had been accustomed to hearing him on our local news broadcasts for twenty years or more, but that was on television. Hearing him speak -- live and in person -- made me a little giddy. Jeff Renner really, really, has a great set of baritone pipes!

So, that's it for celeb sightings so far. But, coming up next month, my brother asked me to get an autographed copy of J.A. Jance's latest novel. She's coming to my library! My brother is a fan, and they have a mutual friend, and she's coming to MY library! It will be great fun to listen to her stories about writing, maybe take a few photos, and then get that book signed for my brother. Woot!

Jeff Renner at my library

Breaking News: Adaptation May Be Key to Survival and Sanity!

I met someone yesterday who had very high, very specific expectations. He wanted personal assistance with details related to an application on the library system's website. NOW. And he was not at all pleased that I could not deliver what he saw as his distinct need, in the manner that perfectly suited his expectation.

We all build ideas of desired outcomes. Sometimes this is completely necessary (isn't this chicken supposed to be fully cooked?) and other times it's best to adapt and adjust based on a new reality (the brownies collapsed, but they taste still taste great!)

What does it take to recognize that a change is required? How much reality must be experienced in order to be willing to shift one's vision? There are many, many stories in the Bible that illustrate this point. Times when things appeared to be headed in one direction, but then God communicated an entirely different plan leading to an unanticipated outcome.

Being a people-pleaser at heart, I am pretty quick to change direction based on what I perceive to be the needs of others. That's nice, except when I really was on the right track and let myself get derailed by popular opinion. Some of the people whom I most admire are strong, firm in their convictions, rarely swayed by mood or whim. That's good, too. There are times to change, and situations in which it's best to stand firm. Reminds me of that text adapted by Pete Seeger...

     There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven -- 
     A time to throw stones, and a time to gather stones;
     A time to embrace, and a time to shun embracing.
     A time to search, and a time to give up as lost;
     A time to keep, and a time to throw away.
     A time to tear apart, and a time to sew together; 
     A time to be silent, and a time to speak.

So, some planned outcomes must be pursued to full completion, and some must be altered. My job is to listen to the One who advises, encourages, directs, and occasionally gives me a shove in the right direction.

Oh, and about that person with whom I had the unfortunate interaction... Well, I'm sorry I couldn't meet his perceived need in the manner to which he'd like to become accustomed. Maybe another time?

A Whale of a Nice Day

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...

The first football game of the season is only a few hours away. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, it's not too hot, and Polo just had a good run in the back yard. Except for my little virus, all is well. So, you ask, how's business at the library?

Work has been busy. Several years ago, August was such a quiet month that we did major projects -- such as checking in the entire collection of movies and music, replacing worn cases, making sure our records were up to date. Then, September would hit us hard with a sudden surge of library patrons. These days, the summer isn't that quiet, but I'm sure we'll still feel slammed once school gets going.

Although I have no trouble wasting time -- sometimes whole days -- at home, I hate not being busy at work. After all, I'm there to do something, not sit around. It's way more fun to be challenged and active there. When the phones aren't ringing and the patrons aren't needy, I get fidgety.

Come to think of it, Polo gets the same way. He can take long naps, but there comes a point in his day when he needs to do something. If no one is paying attention to him, the easiest thing is for him to pick up a shoe or sock, or look for something near the edge of a counter that he can reach. Then he holds it in his mouth and runs up and down the stairs, up and down, up and down, waiting for us to chase him and take it back.

This week, I've learned that Polo knows a new phrase: "Play ball!" When he hears these words, he is morethanready to pound some sod and chase flying spheres in the back yard.

Polo hates being bored at home. I hate being bored at work. Maybe I'll pack a tennis ball in my lunch bag tomorrow -- it's bound to be a slow day at the library.

A Brush With Fame

Today I shook the hand of a rock star. Good, strong grip. Great eye contact. Friendly confidence as he said, "Hi, I'm --" Wait! I'll get to that in a minute.

Folks are sometimes surprised that we have musical groups booked in the library. Yes, a real concert, right there next to the magazine racks! The building wasn't designed for this kind of acoustic assault (and I mean that in the nicest way) but the performers make it work. The audiences are always appreciative of both the music and the up-close experience. That is, the audience who intended to be in the audience. (grins)

We have quite a range of musical styles represented in these performances, from bluegrass to classical to jazz to world music. Many of the concerts are aimed toward adults or families, but some are especially for young children.

The musician I met today has a background in commercial songwriting and performance. He's probably best known for his role as lead singer/songwriter for a quirky rock band that I had actually heard of before this event. (My lack of knowledge of all things pop culture is legendary.) It turns out that he also, uh, moonlights as a children's entertainer, and he has several CDs to his credit under this umbrella. His real fans know him as Chris Ballew, but he walked up to me this morning, stuck out his hand and said confidently,

"Hi, I'm Caspar Babypants."

And suddenly I have a craving for fresh peaches. Lots of them.

Dinner in the Dark, Day Without Sight

In the last two weeks, I've had two experiences with simulated blindness. First was a Dinner in the Dark, an event hosted by a church that's getting ready to open a Blind Mission outreach center in Portland. The second opportunity came when a home school family visited my library during their "special needs week" and happened to check out a Braille item.

See? There I am, in the background, in the spaghetti-colored blouse. (Rufus would have had a heyday cleaning up the floor!) The purpose of a Dinner in the Dark is to show sighted people how inept we can be without sight. It's effective, lemme tell you. Dishing noodles was no fun, but I finally realized that no one could see me so I might as well use my fingers to help.

Actually, eating wasn't the biggest challenge I felt. Rather, it was the disorientation of conversation. All of a sudden, a man's voice right above my shoulder said, "I'm going to take your plate to put the sauce on for you." Oh! Chatting with my neighbor was okay, but I made sure to point my head in her direction so maybe she'd know I was talking to her and not Mr. Deep Voice.

Thinking back, I guess it felt like I was in a bubble. I knew there were lots of people in the room, but I didn't have a sense of where they were. The sighted helpers' footsteps were silent, allowing them to appear and disappear without warning. (Also, the blindfold was over my ears, muffling the sound just a little.) It was kind of spooky. If I'd had more time, I would have been more careful of what I said and when, not knowing if there were other ears listening.

I've had one other dining in the dark experience. Several years ago, during my second conference with Lutheran Blind Mission, I put on a blindfold to go to dinner. Someone loaned me a white cane, and another person guided me through the food line. Again, eating was okay, but conversation was difficult. I could concentrate on my dinner or I could really listen to what was happening. Navigating with the cane was fine, because I knew the hallway well. When a blind friend offered to guide me back to the conference room, I relaxed and let him lead the way. I even trusted him not to walk me into a doorpost!


Back to the present. The mom and three elementary-age kids said no, they didn't have any Braille besides the library book, and no one to help them with it. Thanks to my friend's quick thinking, we came up with a plan for them to come to the library when I got off work on Thursday. I subscribe to a monthly magazine in Braille, and have lots of old copies sitting around the house. I brought one for each of them to use.

We talked about their one-day taste of blindness, and it was interesting to hear their perspectives on this experiment. These kids are confident, self-assured folks, and they approached each day of their "special needs week" with a can-do attitude. One day was spent being mute, another day in wheelchairs, yet another day on crutches or wheelchair, and then came the eye patches and sunglasses. Oh... a funny aside. One of my coworkers offered the family a tour of the library. It didn't dawn on me until much later that the librarian couldn't see their eye bandages because the sunglasses covered them! I'm sure she was not the only person that day who thought they really were blind!

One of the girls realized that she had never seen the room we were using. "I wish I could take my patches off just for a minute so I could see where we are!" That reminded me of when I lost my sense of smell. I said much the same thing, many times, wishing for just one more chance to get a whiff of my sons' heads or a new recipe or a wild rose. In my case, memory will have to serve.

There wasn't time for a full-blown Braille lesson (as if I could teach one anyway), but I had them search in their magazines for a full cell of six dots. That represents the word "for" and is, obviously, pretty common. A page of Braille is about equal to a third of a page of print, and that gave them a better understanding of why their magazines are so bulky. I read a sentence or two for them, using touch only, and did not wow them with my speed.

We discussed some statistics about the blindness community -- 70% unemployment, 18% Braille literacy rate, 60% unmarried, 95% unchurched. Isolation is very common. Towards the end of our time, one of the kids sank into a very deep state of (ahem) contemplation. His breathing slowed enough that one of his sisters noticed and asked him if he was sleeping. "No," he mumbled, sitting up straighter. "Just thinking a thought that needed thinking," or something like that. Hahahaha! The hidden danger of wearing eye patches!

Good opportunities for learning, for thinking outside of our own boxes, for trying new things.

Practical Tips for Practical Jokes

I pulled a good one on a thirsty coworker today. She's marshaling four -- FOUR! -- family members to devise a reciprocation. I wonder...

Although I enjoy playing practical jokes very much, I have my own code of conduct in this matter. After all, I want to ensure that the jokes are harmless enough that I can continue to play them 364 days a year. Therefore, here are a few of the guidelines that I use to design and execute a funny prank. Take what you like, leave the rest.

First, do no harm. Ever since that time in junior high PE when another girl pulled my shorts down to my knees, I have had no desire to do anything that would cause serious embarrassment or injury.

Second, who's gonna clean it up? Consider the end result. If you prop a cup on the top of a door, what will you have to pick up off the floor later? Marbles would make an amazing noise, but they'll roll away and perhaps pose a hazard to someone else. Either use a single tennis ball or find small lightweight objects that won't roll away.

Third, leave no marks. Need I say more?

Fourth, subtlety is most efficient. Elaborate set-ups are fine for special occasions, but most of my stuff is done on the fly. Time is of the essence if a person wants to remain in good standing with her supervisors. Initiate a casual conversation about rabid squirrels, right before you know someone is going to turn around and to find a stuffed animal staring them in the face.

Finally, weigh your options. Is this a "good" day to prank this particular person? How will he/she ultimately respond? Does the victim possess adequate maturity to refrain from whacking you over the head with the nearest baseball bat?

After running through all these rules of prankster etiquette, I knew how to *help* my coworker today. She was helping a family get library cards, and had a frog in her throat. We are not in the habit of having unsecured beverage containers in the library, but she didn't blink an eye when I showed up with a paper cup. In the back room, I had found a few little strips of clean paper. (Strips are easier to pick up than tiny confetti!) Coming around the side of her desk, in full view of her patrons, I tripped and spilled the "water" all over her lap. Riotous laughter ensued, witnesses provided safety against immediate retaliation, and a good time was had by almost all... But go back and read my opening paragraph again. If I suddenly sprout green feathers and squawk like a chicken, you'll know that my friend fixed me!

While We Were Waiting

At the library this week, someone was charged with the duty of standing outside to encourage the use of a certain piece of equipment. From this vantage point, waiting for the next unsuspecting patron to meander up, she enjoyed the view. Mount Rainier peeks over the freeway on clear days. Jets leave ribbony vapor trails high above. Crows warn one another from their perches high in the firs. And right there in front of the doors, there is functional sculpture that begs a photo.

I like to call this one, "Between the Lines".

 

And this is "Tree Rings".

It was a nice week at the library.

How Do You Spell Safety?

As the Safety Captain* of my library, I take every opportunity to investigate safety, er, opportunities. Why, just last week I was meeting with some other Safety Captains to discuss safety in our branches. As we talked about the importance of knowing that the emergency exit alarms are fully charged (they make a very shrill noise when opened), I began to investigate the little red fire alarm box next to me. Perhaps you've seen older alarms which require the breaking of glass to pull the alarm? This new-fangled alarm box has a nifty Plexiglas cover that you lift in order to access the alarm. Nice. But is the cover latched, or does it open easily? How simple would it be to figure out what to do in an emergency situation? This is what I wondered.

Did you know that the Plexiglas cover over little red fire alarm boxes are armed? When a person lifts that cover, a very shrill noise startles one's fellow Safety Captains, causing them to move immediately AWAY from the person who opened the Plexiglas cover. Yep.

Fast-forward to this afternoon. My brother and sister-in-law are here from the Midwest, and we took a nice little jaunt on a cute little ferry to Vashon Island. Ever vigilant, I...

No, I did not attempt to open any fire alarm covers. But I did take an interest in the instructions for the ferry's fire suppression system. The first step in dealing with a fire? Vacate the area! Get away! Go someplace safe! After that, work on putting out the flames.

It wasn't until I downloaded these photos that I really looked at the headline sign. Maybe spelling isn't terribly important when your first instruction is to get away from the fire. No one will stand there long enough to see that you didn't run the spellcheck before you made your pretty red sign. CO2 RELAESE -- a technical word, I'm sure.


*Not my official title, but the one to which I aspire.

Toilet Karma? Only the Wisedogs Don't Mind

Regardless of the timestamps you've seen on some of my posts, I am NOT a morning person and should not be expected to accomplish anything meaningful before ten o'clock. By the same token, I am NOT generally amused by bathroom humor, even though I have written two posts about toilets here and here (this one's in another library near mine, by the way.)

But maybe it's true that what goes around, comes around. We're getting fancy new toilets at the library this week. It's kind of cool to see the trucks come rolling up to our back door with seven boxes of shiny white commodes. The down side? They have to take the old toilets out before they can put the new ones in. That means no bathrooms for a while -- possibly for as long as two days.

Hence my sign above. Not wanting to use trade names (especially not the wrong trade name, if the product in our parking lot turned out to be a Port-a-Potty instead of a Honey Bucket), I went generic. Temporary facilities. Outside. Figure it out. Besides, if you stopped at the book drop before you came in, you saw those four plastic building-ettes right beside you.

There are a few advantages that come with my inability to smell. Using temporary facilities without fear of extreme disgust? Nope, the advantages don't stretch that far. The plumbers replaced the staff toilet first, and as soon as we got the go-ahead several of us rushed the restroom. Within an hour or so, however, they had to turn off the water for our building. No more flushing, no more toilets.

There are a few advantages to working part-time and leaving in the middle of the afternoon.

What Comes Up Must Go Down

I've been putting off this post for quite a while. Although there is some artistic merit, the subject is difficult to address. My friends, however, insist that I cover this, and they won't stop reading my blog until it's in print, with a photo. Yes, I know I said way back in July that I would do this. Okay, here it is.

This could be a companion post to another recent entry, but if I associate them with one another I run the danger of establishing a theme. Please, dear reader, don't ask me to do that. Friends don't let friends...

Okay, I actually have two photos of this, er, subject. The first one, above, isn't too terrible. Before you see the second, however, I must warn you about its graphic content. (Pun not intended.) This is the antithesis of the earlier post on Honey Buckets, as this toilet not only flushes, but requires detailed instructions on proper procedure. This is a toilet in a public building, but it is not located in a public-access area. Complicated matters such as this are best suited for fully-trained staff members, not for occasional users.

A final note before I go. The City of Seattle recently sold some ultra-fantastic public toilets. They had to be rid of them because of the complication factor, I believe. These stainless-steel wonders not only flushed, but hosed themselves down after each use. You won't find any of those facilities in a public library, but you might check your neighbor's meadow pasture. Ebay is a wonderful place. I leave you with this: