Islands of Light in a Sea of Darkness

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TODAY'S QUOTE:

As one who has drunk more deeply than most
The sweet nectar of America's public library systems,
I cannot pretend to objectivity in appraising
their worth,

But feel impelled to sing shamelessly instead their
Praises like the schoolboy that I am and ever hope
to be.

-- Dr. Hobart Q. Zeitgeist, from "Islands of Light in a Sea of Darkness" (Banned Books Press, 2007; 357 pages)

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Thursday
February 1, 2007

Dear Jaromir & Magda,

Received Magda's several separate e-mails earlier today. Thanks. And thanks for the digital NEW YORKER article on Wikipedia -- and for sending it to both of our addresses, since even the simplest attachments simply do not work with my clunky little mailstation. I have yet to download and print out the article, but hope to get to it this weekend. And I'll have to get back to you on the other specifics you mentioned, as soon as Marie and I check our options. This week and the next two or three are extremely busy for her because of her role in the Food Circle and in a couple of other community organizations. And this Sunday evening, we're going to Rick Zbinden's to finally give KaiLi (12) & AnMei (9) their "Christmas" trifles from us. Crazy scheduling. With this stupid weekend arrangement I'm stuck with for now, even finding time for a haircut requires higher math.

I'm grateful for your offer to schlep library materials back and forth for me. But the fact of the matter is that my weekly jaunts to the Leawood Pioneer Branch Library is an integral component in my personal program for staying sane. It's not merely seeing all the familiar faces nor the friendly books and A/V materials all neatly shelved and waiting for me to drop by to peruse their titles nor the affable little building itself with its merciful carpet, clean restrooms, welcoming tables and chairs, other fascinating patrons, and its sparkling windows with their enlightened and enlightening views. Rather it's the total experience; it's everything: the renewals, the overdues, the checkouts, the returns, the special requests I pester you or Octavia or Melissa with, the occasional running into an old friend or enemy from some other lifetime, and, of course, those incomparable serendipitous discoveries of some new acquisition which sets even the most

world-weary heart aflutter. I wouldn't trade that tiny window of opportunity I find myself flying through like a lonesome dove every Saturday afternoon nowadays between 4:30 and 5:00 for all the monkeys in the jungle.

In Bush's & Cheney's America, really decent public libraries such as the one in which you work are ISLANDS OF LIGHT IN A SEA OF DARKNESS.

I'm beginning think that perhaps I should devote an entire 10-page chapter in my memoir-in-progress, THE TOOLMAKER'S OTHER SON, to my lifelong love affair with libraries. As difficult as it is for most people to believe, one of the main reasons I chose New York City as the chief destination of my August 1969 hitchhiking adventure was Dr. Nelson's (q.v.) raving in lit. class a few months earlier about the fact that the original manuscript of T.S. Eliot's 50-odd-page draft of "He Do the Police in Different Voices" (which was eventually edited down into "The Wasteland") was to be on display at the main branch of the New York City Library. (I hitchhiked across half a continent to go to the library!)

ISLANDS OF LIGHT,

Galen