And how come I was not the one who came up with the idea of writing Fifty Shades of Grey?
Among other things, it would have done wonders for the reputation of the stereotypical librarian that I have had to deal with for my whole professional life.  Skip the bun and half reading glasses and go right to being chained to the Circulation Desk!  Forget the classic skirt and blazer and bring on the bikini top and thong!  No shushing sounds out of my mouth; those are screams you are hearing from the reading room!
Who knew that the average woman would enjoy an erotic read so much?  It is always the male of the species who is touted as thinking about something sexual every few seconds or so.  Turns out the only help needed by a woman's libido is a Christian Grey character to show her the ropes.  Literally show her the ropes. 
And it turns out that women of all ages are interested in this latest incarnation of erotica.  There is a private little amused gleam in the eye of the 25, 45 or 70 year old as they look around in the airport lounge and realize how many of them are reading the same book.   Somehow I cannot imagine my mother or grandmother reading this stuff in their day, but then again, I am reminded of when I treated them to what I hoped would be a distractingly funny afternoon a few months after after my father died to see the Broadway play "Lenny."  Little did I know that Lenny was not just about any comedian, it was about Lenny Bruce, one of the dirtiest comedians of all time, and the play lived up to his reputation.  At intermission I shamefacedly told my mom that we should leave and that I was so sorry to have exposed her and her mother to such filth.  "Don't be such a prude," said my mother, "we are enjoying it!"
So ladies, enjoy the books, and enjoy being part of the pop culture scene.  Really, they are so badly written, but still....

"I will have many tissues available for you," said my cousin Helen as we realized that Jamie and Jessica's wedding is next up on December 5th. She said this as she saw how teary I was at the recent Vermont wedding of Doug and Hauyin, and as she realized how teary I would be in December. "Maybe I won't cry at the wedding," I said brightly. "True, I have been getting very teary at odd moments this year leading up to the wedding, but maybe I will have cried myself out before the actual wedding." Helen just looked at me.

Why is it that seeing a heron in a small pond on the side of an ugly New Jersey highway gives me such pleasure? One thing, I guess, is the contrast of this beautiful creature against the ugliness of its surroundings. Another factor is probably the fact that I first saw this heron (and I am pretty sure that it is the same one that comes back each year...would more than one heron consider this place so beautiful that it flies from g-d knows where each year to make it back here?) in this location after a trip to our condo in Florida. Now, I expect to see herons and egrets (love those egrets) and penguins in Florida, but I do not expect to see them in New Jersey, let alone right before the entrance to the Garden State Parkway. So each morning before I get onto the parkway, I am craining (no pun intended) my neck to see this thing of beauty, and my heart leaps (yes, really) when it is there, and I feel sad when it's not.
I can hear a few of my more hardened readers shout, "GET A LIFE" in unison, but personally, I am glad that I can appreciate the exquisite moments of beauty that I never expected. I think that I'll coin the term 'beauty shock' for this phenomenon., and I look forward to more of them.

JUST DON'T LET THE BAND PLAY "SUNRISE, SUNSET"

I will be weepy enough at Jamie's wedding without hearing that song. I did not allow it to be played at his Bar Mitzvah, and Jessica is indulging me in not allowing it to be played at the wedding. I could not be more thrilled that Jessica will be a member of our family, but wasn't it yesterday that they were small? And how did he get to be so tall?
Seems to me that he was just nine months old and calling me a beautiful dum dum. Seems to me that he was just four years old and hiding the halloween candy from me so that I wouldn't eat it. Seems to me that he was just named the cutest camper in summer camp. Seems to me that he was just five and asleep at the kitchen table with a fudgicle still in his mouth. Seems to me that he was just ten and letting the corn drop out of his mouth niblet by niblet onto the table. Seems to me that we were just watching him perform in high school plays, and graduating from high school, and working as the best freezer man that Haar foods ever had, and interning at the White House, and taking a year off before law school to tend bar in Colorado. Seems to me that he was just spending a summer in Europe and another summer going cross country with his brother on a road trip. Seems to me that he just graduated from law school and landed a good job, and came home from a business trip to India and rushed over to see Jessica....
Nope, I don't want them to play Sunrise Sunset, because I will be weepy already, but, really, I don't remember growing older. When did they?

Out of the Mouths of Babes!

If there is anyone out there still reading my blog, you know that I have just turned 60, and that the number is not sitting well with me. The very week that this momentous occasion occured, I was part of a group delivering dictionaries to all 3rd graders in Belleville from the Belleville Rotary Club. Our Rotary Club has been doing this for a number of years, and I enjoy it immensely because the kids are so adorable and so appreciative.
The next day, thank you notes were delivered to the Library from the classes who had received the dictionaries. This is the letter that had me laughing:
"Thank you for the dictionaries. I appreciate your generosity. The dictionaries will help me with my writing. I enjoyed your visit to my class. Thanks again for taking the time. Can you come back here again? You're the best ever. How old are you now?"
Think about how often this child has probably been asked that question, "how old are you now?" so how perfect that she just naturally asked that of me. Little did she know how much age had been on my mind for the last few weeks, and what a perfect question she had asked!

JUST A THOUGHT

There is something I have noticed since becoming the director of a public library going on ten years ago...the staff hates to be criticized and just loves to be praised. Those 'good idea janes' and 'nice job Alans' that I am constantly doling out, willingly I might add, seem to be appreciated, and indeed, expected. It's the basic foundation of good child rearing: focus on the positive, be firm about, but downplay the negative, and your child will end up with good self-esteem, confidence and belief in his/her abilities. I've seen that working with the boss-employee relationship as well, andf ind it especially important when one is the kind of boss who does not believe in micro-managing. Encourage workers to do their best job, keep track of what is going on, praise whenever possible, and the result is usually a good one.

There is only one problem here....did anyone ever think of praising the boss?!

Okay, it may be because I was an only child, but I like getting praised for the occasional good job that I do. Praise does come from some of my bosses, the Library Board of Trustees, but rarely from the people with whom I work day in and day out...my staff. Of course, like all bosses, I learned long ago not to take anything personally, but gosh, a word of praise once in a while would be encouraging. Like how about: "Thanks, you always act on my concerns in a timely manner; I appreciate that." Or: "Thanks for always letting the Board of Trustees know when an emplyee has done something really well."

Let's face it, I have enough self-confidence in the job I am doing to not need praise. And, I know that there is no malice aforethought by my staff in not thinking of giving their boss a good word once in a while. But, it wouldbe nice.

Just a thought.

"Never eat more than you can lift."
- Miss Piggy