- Fizzy Thoughts: Libraries

Libraries

Thursday, August 21, 2008


Whether you usually read off of your own book pile or from the library shelves NOW, chances are you started off with trips to the library. (There’s no way my parents could otherwise have kept up with my book habit when I was 10.) So … What is your earliest memory of a library? Who took you? Do you have you any funny/odd memories of the library?

When I was in junior high I loved our local library. It was about 1 mile from our house, so I could walk there and back. Most of the walk was four or five very long, straight blocks. I remember walking home and trying to read at the same time.

On a sort of related note...

I was cruising around the internet yesterday and came across SJLibrary.org. In particular, this. And this. Oooh, and this. And this.

Instead, I have this. Could my library be any more boring?

7 comment(s):

Dar said...

lol-my library is a good match to yours. The one in my neighborhood is this little piddly thing. We probably have about 30 branches in our city but I always hit the one closest to home which I'm sure is the oldest one too.

Ti said...

I had a rough upbringing as a child so I spent many days at the library. I would walk there after school and spend as much time as I could there. It was a good 6 blocks away. As soon as I arrived, I'd hit the children's stacks and find a comfy corner to hang out in. I did not own a library card, as you needed a parent's signature and mine..well..mine were not available so I read all my books there.

That is definitely where my love of reading came from. It was a way to escape for sure.

anne said...

Here's my best library story:

I used to go to the local small town public library all the time, faithfully returning books on time. Then I got a notice that I had an overdue book. I went and spoke with the librarian and said no, I had returned that book on time, just like I always do. She did not believe me and subsequent notices took on an ominous (to my 12 year old mind) tone. I was very alarmed and wondered uh oh, I wonder what they can do to me? I imagined some criminal charges or something. So I went to my mom and explained everything to her. She promptly went and had a word with the librarian ("listen here, my daughter is very diligent with her library books and if she says she returned it, then she returned it! Stop sending these overdue notices at once.") My mom is a teacher so of course delivered this in her best stern teacher voice. I never heard another thing about it. Shortly thereafter we moved away. Many years later, going through a box of books...er, what's this? Oh my goodness, it's that book! I never returned it after all! We still laugh about it to this day. (The book was Georgette Heyer's Frederica, by the way.)

softdrink said...

Anne, this could be you...

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26335283/?GT1=43001

:-D

Jeane said...

Those hidden bookshelves are pretty cool. I love the interred ones as well. Are those things really in that library?

anne said...

bwahahahahahaha!!!! Thank goodness my mom bailed me out of my troubles before things got serious!

Brad'll Do It said...

I don't think it was the Cleveland, OH, main branch library, which I would have visited in 7th or 8th grade, but later, the San Francisco (CA) main branch that turned me on to the "power" of libraries. Then, it was the college libraries that I thought were the coolest. Where I attended college, the library was a great source of peace and tranquility for me. However, I do admit a certain amount of PTSD in a library, expecting that I have to do research on a paper that's due WAY too soon! Where are my 3x5s???

In a real sense, people who have read good literature have lived more than people who cannot or will not read. It is not true that we have only one life to live; if we can read, we can live as many more lives and as many kinds of lives as we wish. ~S.I. Hayakawa

The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.
~St. Augustine

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.
~Mark Twain

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