Farewell, TV Friends

This week, the last episode (ever) of the Gilmore Girls aired. Now I know many of you aren't TV heads, and more power to you, but let's spend a few moments contemplating the end of a long running, well loved series. Much like a good friend, a good TV show moves into your life and, as the Indigo Girls would say, "makes your thinking crowded." Over time the characters grow with you, they grow into you somehow.

I remember when ST:TNG ended. Jean, where were you the night the episode aired? Was Paul Witworth involved? I don't remember, but while I tried, I ended up thinking "I don't know beans about cars." I digress. Anyway, I watched it by myself the first time, and then Dad called, and I explained to him the import of what had just occured. "All Good Things," a great last episode title. It was coming on summer in the Land of UCSC, where I'd seen almost all the Star Trek episodes. The show was (dare I write it?) much like our own expanding universe. So much to explore! We were working out the details of our own Prime Directives, if you will. Late nights watching Data and Picard, then discussing the holodeck and the jeffries tubes . . .

And the West Wing! The West Wing unfurled at the time of ultimate lameness with our "real" government. The show provided a reality where our leaders were not only brilliant, but moral and *gasp* articulate. Witty even. Moreover, I watched the show during years when I was surviving a workplace that had nothing going for it but the awesomeness of my coworkers. Watching, I could imagine what the world would be like if my real life brilliant coworkers were working on something that actually mattered, in a place that respected our abilities.

Now, too, we've lost the Gilmore Girls. I've watched Rory go through her prep school, and her four years of Yale. I've admired Lauren Graham's hair and pondered her indecision as she went from Luke to Christopher to Luke to Christopher to Luke. We really connected in the post-LOTR movie years, when Lorelai told Rory she had to be home by 10 p.m. lest she be set upon by orcs. Really, the Gilmore Girls get me. The people of Star's Hollow have come to represent my ideal community. Miss Patty and her dancing daffodils in that gazebo in front of Taylor's market are now benchmarks. Who doesn't have a community of some sort with it's town meetings, with Kirk as a mime, the random guy singing on the street corner, each wackier than the last, and valued for whatever their wackiness adds to the total picture.

So when these shows end, it's a lot like losing a friend. It hurts a little to know their stories won't progress any further, barring some awful reunion show you'd dread but watch because of it's train wreck magnetism. And it hurts to lose the potential metaphor the show provided, the lens that makes a little sense of "real" life. Sure, I can still toss out "Temba his arms wide," but I won't what new mannerism Data adopts in his quest to become human. I can still think "How would C.J. proccess these magazines? That's how I want to process them!" but I won't ever get to see the West Wing crew make their tour of all the National Parks, per President Bartlett's plan. How will Rory do, riding on the press bus following Barack Obama? You know I'll be looking for her when I watch the real-life press conferences.

Farewell, my TV friends. Thanks for sharing seven years of your fictional lives with me. I'll really miss you.

Lord Kitchener

Libraries have a lot signs posted in them. Whenever we host an event (even regularly scheduled clubs and classes) we post way too many signs about it. This library, and I hear this is a common thing for libraries, suffers from sign overload.

As you might imagine, there are specific sign styles, that vary based more upon the sign crafter than they do upon the event the sign reflects. I haven't been entrusted with the task of making signs long enough to have developed my own signature sign style, but you could probably visualize what my signs would look like. Our primo sign maker, his style is like this. That's his favorite font. The guy who reminds me of Goodyear, he's got a new position at the library that now involves sign making. So. He's made his first sign for Teen Poker Night.

There's no picture of it up on the web yet, but it features Lord Kitchener saying "I want YOU! to come to Poker Night." I suppose only time will tell whether or not this image will inspire the teens. Heck, perhaps Lord Kitchener is nouveau chic. Perhaps it's an unfortunate choice. Either way, it's made for some hysterical conversation.

Goodyear's Twin and the librarian who runs our Knitting Club were both prepping to hang new signs (I made the knitting signs, my first great work here.) Knitting Club Lady was asking why we had a Russian on the Poker Night signs.
Goodyear's Twin: "That's not a Russian, that's Lord Kitchener! What makes you think he's a Russian?"
Knitting Club Lady: "His mustache."
GT: "That's not a Russian mustache."
KCL: "Hey, did he knit?"
GT: "What? No! He's way too manly to knit!"
KCL: "Well, the stitch you use to finish off socks is called the Kitchener stitch. I think he invented it."
GT: "NO! He's not a knitter! Look it up on the web."
KCL: "It's called the Kitchener stitch. I think he was a knitter."

Then they both rushed out to secure the prime spots for their signs. :) Later, GT was taking a flier about the knitting club home to his wife, and KCL said "Hey, do you ever wear those socks your wife made you?" He said he didn't because they had a hole in the toe, but he didn't want to tell her they had a hole in the toe. I said, all ready to rile the crowds up again for my own entertainment, "You know who could've fixed those for you?" They both looked over. "Lord Kitchener."

The Next Generation

Wow, what a deceptive subject line. My first thought was "Oh, some people are going to think that's about Star Trek." Then, several moments later, I remembered the all important connotation those words could have coming from a fairly-recently-married person. Nope, not that one either. My apologies for the double psych out.

I was at the Circ Desk today, checking out books for a mom who was there with her daughter. Little girl was maybe two, at the oldest, sporting those baby fine pigtails in blonde. She started to wander off, and mom called after her, "Eowyn, come wait here with me please!"

Awesome.

Saturday = Blogs + Jeans

I've entered my stretch of working Saturdays, we rotate here, and so about four or five out of every twelve Saturdays finds me in the library. You know what? I love working Saturdays. It's so peaceful here. There are *just* enough staff to go around, and most patrons have either plenty of time to browse, or better things to do. It's soooo relaxed.

In former eras of my life, pre-public library, probably most of you know, I was a jeans and t-shirt girl. UCSC, not what you'd call a formal place. Kid you not, we kept slippers under our desks, and wore them around the office. Shamelessly. Here, I've been kicking it up a fashion notch. Nothing crazy, no pantyhose or power suits or anything. (And I only wear slippers at home. Sigh.) But I wear jeans once a week. The last day of my work week, be it Friday or Saturday. Sure, I miss the day to day comfort of jeans. But man, when I wear my jeans now, it's so FANTASTIC. Just getting to wear jeans to work makes the day great. Heck, wearing jeans at home rocks too. Today is a jeans day.

And, because of the relaxed Saturday atmosphere, I'm tooling through some Librarian Blogs. I can't decide if this falls into the category of "going the extra mile" or "creatively trying to look busy."

Here are a few I've discovered that are just hysterical. I have also found some that look informative, but I'm saving that for later. I guess that answers my question. "Creatively trying to look busy," it is.

• Vampire Librarian -- see especially "Reference Call" under Classic Vampire Librarian
• The Bitter Librarian -- really funny, but read it in small doses. All at once, she just sounds like a person who hates her job.
• Foxylibrarian -- her library sounds rougher than mine.
  

There are more. Every time you find a good one, there are links on it to more librarian blogs. Isn't it strange how as every day goes by, there is only ever more, never less, to read. One of life's Great Conundrums.

A Week of Walks

Nathan and I have embarked on a new fitness routine. We're walking daily for an hour. Nathan felt it was particularly important that we walk at the same time, every day, without variation. The only window in our shared schedules that can be relied upon every day is 5:45 am. That's right. A.M. We're done with our hour walk before 7 a.m. We started a week ago yesterday.

And you know what?

So far it's not that bad.

I mean, it's early. Sure. And it seems even earlier on days when I would normally sleep in until 8 or even 9. When I originally started to well, I guess "whine" is the right word, about this, Nathan suggested we try it for a month and then make adjustments if necessary. That was so reasonable, I couldn't exactly refuse, now could I? But it's not that bad, AND, it means that by 7 AM, I've already exercised!! I'm off the hook for the rest of the day. Sure, I'll get more walking in, and I might stretch or something, but I've already gotten over the biggest hurdle. (We're not actually hurdling, though occasionally we are motivated enough to scurry up the hill by our house, just to get the climbing over as quickly as possible. Gina taught me that trick.)

We're off to Yosemite in a few weeks, and we're excited to imagine starting the trail to Vernal Falls at quarter to six. I bet we have the place to ourselves!

The visual equivalent for "onomatopoeia"

I went to church last Sunday with my mom. It's been awhile. Going to church is a lot more like staying at home and watching church on television than it used to be. There are power point presentations and music videos and the like. My favorite thing about church was a lady who signed a hymn, while the lyrics ran on a power point presentation behind her for those of us who don't understand sign language.

I assume that most of the words in sign language are rather "onomatopoeiac," or that they do have some visual representation of the word they represent. Whoever invented the sign for "hallelujah" did an excellent job. "Hallelujah" looks like a party! It starts off with a clap, and then there is a spiraling upwards gesture with both hands, and it ends with that now classic charasmatic christian gesture of the palms upturned to the heavens, as if to say "High Five God!"

So I ask you, is there a visual equivalent of onomatopeia? (Good band name "Visual Onomatopoeia." ) And of course, no converstaion about onomatopeia is complete, to my mind, without referencing the West Wing episode when Sam heads off some sort of crisis with the Russians, based on the fact that the Russian ambassador knew the meaning of the word onomatopoeia, but not the word "frumpy."

Overly Enthusiastic, Perhaps

I was just leaving the Circulation Desk, and one of our staffers was just about to take over for me, when she said, casually, "Didn't I see you reading 'Ysabel?' I just finished reading it." Turns out Ysabel was her first GGKay novel. Well, you know how exciting that is, when someone's reading GGK for the first time. I was, perhaps, a shade overly enthusiastic in my response, given that this person doesn't really have any context for that which is Jenn, beyond a certain friendliness and a few circ desk shifts. There may have been just the slightest bit of squealing involved.

She had moved from Ysabel to Last Light of the Sun, and claimed to be enjoying it. I got into our catalog with her and talked about the pros and cons for various reading order scenarios. I was shocked and saddened to discover we own The Darkest Road, but not The Summer Tree or The Wandering Fire. I spent some time on my lunch hour making her a list, sorting them into varying intensities of fabulousness. The Tapestry listed as the penultimate work, Tigana and Lions and Ysabel as "Life Altering," Song for Arbonne as "Excellent" and the others as "The Other Stuff."

It's a bit of a puzzle, as I'm sure you see. Normally, with new Kay people, I suggest an Arbonne, followed by either Lions or Tigana. Then, assuming they won't be offended by fantasy, of course there is the Tapestry, and now I'd suggest one wait until after that for Ysabel. Then I leave it up to folks to try or skip Sailing to Serantium and Last Light, as they feel best. She's read Ysabel, but not the Tapestry. She's reading Last Light. Next, should I encourage her to treat herself to one of the tastiest morsels, or should she work her way from least amazing to most mind boggling, since she's on the path. She says she'd read them all, but I'd hate to lose her to the second book of Sarantium, you know?