Back in Library as New Year Begins
A new year lies in front of us, a blank slate upon which we can write, I don’t know, graffiti? My brother Scott texted his two siblings on Jan. 1: Happy New Year! It’s going to be a great one! That’s the spirit! I am going to do my utmost to adopt his attitude. Sincerely.
As a rule, I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. They are too easily broken, leaving one feeling shamefaced and scolding oneself on the lack of resolve and willpower. Better to fashion achievable but vague goals, such as being grateful every day for good health, family, friends, and the continued ability to consume jalapeños without getting heartburn. The latter is important to me. I consider jalapeños one of the basic food groups.
I spent much of New Year’s Day watching first the Alabama-Michigan game, and then Texas-Washington, after eating the obligatory black-eyed peas, along with several other delicious sides prepared by my Beautiful Mystery Companion. Alas, I was rooting for both Alabama and Texas, both of whom came up short. These days, it takes me at most 17 seconds to get over a team for whom I am rooting getting beat. Both games were close and hard fought. Now I can watch the national championship match between Michigan and Washington with absolutely no dog in the fight.
A few decades ago, I was watching Texas in a bowl game with my two older daughters, back when I was single and years before my BMC and daughter Abbie entered the picture. The Longhorns lost. Both of my daughters started bawling. “What are you crying about?” I asked in my best Yankee manner. “It’s a football game, for Pete’s sake.” It is different if you are an actual player or the parent of one. But an everyday fan? No tears, please.
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The two most important days of your life are the day you were born and the day you find out why. – Mark Twain
I saw this quotation on social media the other day and wrote it down, thinking it might make for column fodder. It is pithy and worth pondering. There is just one problem, I soon discovered: Mark Twain never said it! The Center for Mark Twain Studies at Elmira College is the authoritative source for all things Twain. Mark Seybold posted a piece about the “Apocryphal Twain,” noting the Occam’s Razor of Twain is: “If the aphorism in question indicates a sentimental, nostalgic, or otherwise optimistic attitude towards humanity, it probably didn’t come from Twain. As Louis Budd put it, Twain indulged a “lifelong suspicion that the mass of mankind is venal, doltish, feckless, and tyrannical, that the damn fools make up a majority anywhere.”
I think I would have gotten along well with Twain.
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I spent the second day of 2024 sitting at the front counter of the Estes Library at LeTourneau University, finishing my sixth year of doing so as a part-time reference librarian. Since classes do not start until Jan. 8, the place was essentially deserted. I listened to Spotify through my hearing aids while reading What an Owl Knows. This is easily the best part-time gig I have ever had. Outside, landscaping crews were at work mulching leaves, clearing sidewalks, and taking down Christmas lights.
When I first arrived at noon Tuesday for my 5-hour shift, there were about two dozen books sitting in the sanitizer, ready to be reshelved – no doubt leftovers from when last semester ended, and we shut down. Reshelving books pleases my nerdy self. I know the Library of Congress classification system well and get a satisfaction from reshelving that is not dissimilar to the feeling I get from mowing the lawn – but without breaking a sweat.
I enjoy helping students and faculty once the semester begins. As I complete the final graduate course to receive a certificate in archival management from UNT, my evening shifts at the library provide plenty of time for me to do the required readings. Being back in graduate school has been enjoyable, but I also look forward to being finished.
What other adventures this new year holds remain to be seen. But as brother Scott said, and I concur, “It’s going to be a great year!”
Happy New Year, everyone.
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