Daylight Savings Time does a number on me. Every year it’s the same, not just for yours truly but for all the unnecessary accident victims, crime victims, heart attack victims, and everyone who needs to maintain an even sleep and medication schedule. It doesn’t seem to matter to my body that I get to sleep an hour late in the fall. I feel completely lousy right now and will continue to feel lousy until I adjust. That might be tomorrow. It could also be next week. Hooraaay.
So until I feel well enough to entertain you in print, have some awesome old cinema.
I’ve never worked in a library where food was not readily available. Cookies, cake for someone’s birthday, fruit, leftover breakfast stuff from a program. At Nevins, we have a fruit share, a candy basket, a snacks counter, and a fridge that is usually full of leftovers.
Forgetting your lunch is not a huge catastrophe here.
Today I dined upon mustard broccoli with raisins and garbanzo beans. In fact, I took two helpings. I think they were left by a program presenter, to whom I tip my hat. Man oh man, did I eat a lot of broccoli. I don’t know who made two giant vats of this stuff, but they did an amazing job. I’ve been eating too much over the past couple days in an attempt to manifest pregnancy. If I’m successful, I’ll write a book. Meanwhile, please pass more of that broccoli. I might be the only person eating it.
A while back, my library experienced a disaster of sorts. Specifically, we experienced the kind of disaster that’s at once human-made and essentially inevitable: equipment failure. An AC unit dumped a ton of water all over a bunch of upper story stacks. The upshot is that half of our reference floor is currently plasticked up like that Dr. Who episode where the Cybermen take over. Including the computers and books.
We have six computers available, which is half of our usual number, and word has gotten around. People have, for the most part stopped visiting the reference floor. Some diehards still drift in, but they know the score already and don’t need a ton of help from us. If we’re full up here, they cheerfully mosey on down the the unaffected children’s room, which is now abandoned because school has begun.
See? The cosmic spaghetti monster opens a window!
Seriously, this isn’t the worst thing in the world. We’re finding out just how valuable having a copier is. If I had to start a library in 21st century America, I’d rent a storefront and stock it with some computers, two printer/copiers, and a holds shelf. In fact, I’d probably rent five or six and put them in disparate corners of my city. Distributed library, baby!
For now, snug in my centralized library, there are still a few things I can do.
- Cancel catalog subscriptions. My god this is a plague. Last month, I cancelled 5 Demco catalog subscriptions for various staff members who do not order library supplies. I was warned that it might take a while to remove these mailing, but much to my surprise, we received over double that number from Demco in August! Playing whack-a-mole with unwanted catalogs is filling my time nicely and, hopefully, will help save the Earth someday when the library supplies monopoly of the U.S. stops passive aggressively upping our free mailing memberships.
- Handle tech problems. We’ve still got ’em! The latest Windows 10 update might have conked out our staff computer/printer relationship and there’s not much I can do except observe. But boy howdy can I observe!
- Give tech lessons. I love it when people come in and ask about Libby. That is seriously a red-letter day for me. There is no better way to give a free gift than to introduce someone to a library lending app and explain how it works. This is particularly true in the case of an elderly person who is looking at near-term mobility limits and potentially physical frailty. Say what you will about our excessively connected world, but e-books and e-audiobooks are freedom for many of my patrons.
- Catch up on technical reading. My excellent boss encourages me to read Computers in Libraries at the desk when nothing else is going on. I also relish the chance to pop around the web and see what LJ and PL and AL and XY and ZZ all think about the latest library trends.
- Run support for adjacent programs. A few years ago, my aforementioned boss and I put together a just-add-water program that took people on a self-guided tour of the city. That kind of got rolled into a larger celebration of the city’s history, and now I just make sure the signs are right and everyone has brochures.
- Retrain. I’m about to head back into the fray with my first computer hardware course. I might test for my A+ cert when it’s done, just to do it. I’m also going to learn how to operate a camera so that we can firm up an alliance with the local cable access station – a move I’m positively thrilled about.
There’s a lot we can accomplish, even without the books and even without many computers. Not that we should dump either of those important services, but it does give one pause. It’s refreshing to know that our profession is so much more resilient than the specs of its various parts.
Today was a heavy one for tech reference questions. There are stretches of days when I don’t field a single request for some kind of computer help beyond printer tutorials, but most of the time there’s someone out there who’s lost their Gmail password.
As long as the person in question has their phone with them, this isn’t much of an issue. Gmail just pings their app or texts them and they get to think up a whole new password for them to forget afresh the next time they come in. However, if the phone in question is not apparent, we have problems.
There’s a related issue that I came across recently that involved someone with a Droid phone. This person had no idea that they were in possession of an email account. As some of you may know, Droids require users to have Google identities and iPhones require iCloud accounts. If you don’t have one of these before you buy a smartphone, you’ll have one afterward. The only way to escape is to cling to certain kinds of prepaid and flip models.
Anyway, this person was utterly bemused to find out that they had a Gmail address. We looked it up on their phone and wondered at its complexity: it was the name of the store where they’d purchased the phone followed by an apparently random number. The sales staff had set them up with a Gmail that they’d never wanted, had failed to explain that it existed or how it worked, and sent this individual on their way with a high five and a clear conscience.
What did we learn?
The lesson here is that we are lint in the howling gale of corporate whim and its banality will be our ruin. I can’t very well steer people away from Gmail or smartphones – Gmail is consistently the best free email you can get, and it’s damn hard to get by without a smartphone under the best of circumstances. But I can be ready to mitigate, train, and explain, and if that password proves particularly recalcitrant, track down the number for Google’s corporate headquarters. I have a Master’s and the patience of a chunk of granite. You are a taxpaying citizen whom the capitalist overlords have crassly used and abandoned. If you have a problem with your account, you’d better believe I’ll get someone on the phone.