tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74129355018145384642024-03-13T19:17:24.934-04:00Branches and RainThe web log of a reference librarianBretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.comBlogger482125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-87819077247084750522017-12-07T14:34:00.001-05:002017-12-07T14:34:26.946-05:00Library Staff Gingerbread House Contest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-90361431627642316092016-12-29T15:32:00.000-05:002017-02-26T00:25:08.215-05:00Tower of Prayer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Ocala Tower of Prayer on Highway 484 south of Ocala. I passed this going home from Mount Dora last spring, and meant to take a picture the next time I went that way. But returning from my father's funeral in Eustis over Thanksgiving weekend, I didn't want to stop on the busy road near Interstate 75. Back in Tallahassee, I took a screenshot of it in Google Street View.<br />
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I keep returning to this picture of a sun-bleached house trailer with a wheelchair ramp. I can believe that God might be found there, as in a barn in Bethlehem. It reminds me of novelist Frederick Buechner's character, Leo Bebb, with his Church of Holy Love, Inc. in Armadillo, Florida.<br />
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I have always felt affection for one-off, "mom & pop" churches: the tabernacles, temples and ministries of Truth, of Praise, of Miracles, that you find especially in the South, down country roads and in strip-mall storefronts. Maybe because my own call to faith as a boy was so solitary, neither encouraged nor sanctioned by any fellowship. Just me and Billy Graham. What a long, long road it was to Rome.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-20318747879613141932016-10-13T23:36:00.000-04:002016-10-31T23:11:00.049-04:00It's OKHad a request for <i>It's OK Not to Share</i>, and noticed these reassuring titles in the library catalog.<br />
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<i>It's ok if you're clueless : and 23 more tips for the college bound.</i><br />
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<i>It's OK not to share.</i><br />
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<i>It's OK to be you : a frank and funny guide to growing up.</i><br />
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<i>It's ok to go up the slide : renegade rules for raising confident and creative kids.</i><br />
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<i>It's OK to make mistakes.</i><br />
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<i>It's ok to tell : a story of hope and recovery.</i><br />
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<i>It's okay to be different.</i><br />
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<i>It's okay to be the boss : the step-by-step guide to becoming the manager your employees need.</i><br />
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<i>It's okay to miss the bed on the first jump : and other life lessons I learned from dogs.</i><br />
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<i>It's okay to say no : choosing sexual abstinence.</i><br />
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<i>It's okay to sleep with him on the first date : and every other rule of dating, debunked.</i><br />
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The last one is misleading at first glance. I guess it's meant to show you how wrong it sounds to say it out loud.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-52121838058719348832016-09-09T23:32:00.000-04:002016-09-09T23:35:23.124-04:00Glory DaysEarlier this summer I took a call from a woman in Texas. She wanted a copy of an article from our microfilm of the local paper, the Tallahassee Democrat, to give her husband for Father's Day. He had played football for Leon High School. He cherished the memory of a game against local rivals in which he had been part of the winning play. An article about the game with a photograph including him had appeared on the front page. "It's all he ever talks about", she said.<br />
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The trouble was, she didn't know when the article was printed, or even who the opposing team had been. 1990 or 1991, she thought. Normally this would not be nearly enough to go on, but I was moved by her love for her husband, and said I would try to find it. We do have an index for those years.<br />
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There was nothing in the index. Coverage of high school sports is spotty, space being mainly devoted to professional and college sports. And schedules of high school football teams from 1991 are nowhere online. I e-mailed her that I couldn't get it to her by Father's Day, but that I would try anyway. Maybe she could give it to him on another occasion.<br />
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I trolled through two football seasons of microfilm, which took about six hours over a couple of weeks. I did actually find a story that included a small photo of her husband playing, but she said that wasn't the one she was talking about. I found the stories for the games against Leon High's two rivals, Godby and Rickards, for both years. None of them were even on the front page of the sports section, and none were accompanied by a photo.<br />
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The story wasn't there, I reported, wondering if it had been in the school paper. She actually showed up in person some weeks later, possibly in town for other reasons, and looked at the microfilm herself, with the same result. Would she ever tell her husband about her futile search for confirmation of his golden memory? I have a feeling that the story I found <u>was</u> the one, burnished and magnified in her husband's mind over the years.<br />
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You would think I had learned my lesson, but a few weeks ago, I did it once more. A man called from Boston, wanting a story from 1991, <i>again,</i> (is it a "25th anniversary" thing?) He had boxed with a local high school club in a state championship in St. Petersburg, and had won a "novice" title. The newspaper had printed a story with a photograph. He wasn't sure of the date, possibly May or June.<br />
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Nothing in our index. I searched the St. Pete Times in Newsbank for boxing stories. I found a story about a tournament in January '91 that even mentioned his club, but there was no corresponding story with photo on our microfilm. I looked dutifully through May and June, Nothing. He thanked me for my effort.<br />
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The one conclusion I can draw is that if people don't know when their story appeared, they may not be accurate in other particulars. I could detail a number of other such searches I have made over the years. "Fishing" for a story on microfilm is almost always a waste of time. It's better to suggest that they have <i>their</i> library borrow the microfilm for <i>them</i> to search. <br />
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<br />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-20006053483988913612016-09-01T00:27:00.003-04:002016-09-01T00:27:20.600-04:00Here We Go<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been a long time. Hope it's not too bad. Library will be closed Friday. We'll see about tomorrow. Branches and rain.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-25072934832831751412016-04-11T23:51:00.000-04:002016-04-11T23:51:37.861-04:00The George Firestone Building<div data-canvas-width="237.85163999999997" style="left: 108.049px; top: 348.876px; transform: scaleX(1.00373);">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">George Firestone Building </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">409 East Gaines Street </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Built: 1936</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">County jail from 1937 to 1966, then a state office building. Vacant since 2007.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Pictures taken December 2015. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-llTqaW6KW1A/VwMqkxdtd3I/AAAAAAAADQI/GvPulBs5iTwWkjFGoKOV_RjeTpp4UYfWQ/s1600/IMG_20151226_103807170.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-llTqaW6KW1A/VwMqkxdtd3I/AAAAAAAADQI/GvPulBs5iTwWkjFGoKOV_RjeTpp4UYfWQ/s320/IMG_20151226_103807170.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BOlDZeu-_r0/VwMq4voPYbI/AAAAAAAADQQ/Uv7lEcgaSAURHLwDhIRRR-0nhiJKQKEPQ/s1600/IMG_20151226_103913876.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BOlDZeu-_r0/VwMq4voPYbI/AAAAAAAADQQ/Uv7lEcgaSAURHLwDhIRRR-0nhiJKQKEPQ/s320/IMG_20151226_103913876.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oIq6OWAkyqM/VwMsHCLjgCI/AAAAAAAADQw/PYxtivCF-1AtA_jXb-Tz-MbeRoqC2GPiQ/s1600/IMG_20151226_104009108.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oIq6OWAkyqM/VwMsHCLjgCI/AAAAAAAADQw/PYxtivCF-1AtA_jXb-Tz-MbeRoqC2GPiQ/s320/IMG_20151226_104009108.jpg" width="180" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4TQMJOlkM4A/VwMrUMJ2jtI/AAAAAAAADQc/NtRbOfkUkWMEhmI3LssOpGnGRBIYnZQbQ/s1600/IMG_20151226_104332073_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4TQMJOlkM4A/VwMrUMJ2jtI/AAAAAAAADQc/NtRbOfkUkWMEhmI3LssOpGnGRBIYnZQbQ/s320/IMG_20151226_104332073_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IG_7DATpu90/VwMreYMU0gI/AAAAAAAADQk/YMmQvCYJhWM7sDhFthGJxohSWesZIWJtg/s1600/IMG_20151226_104218430.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IG_7DATpu90/VwMreYMU0gI/AAAAAAAADQk/YMmQvCYJhWM7sDhFthGJxohSWesZIWJtg/s320/IMG_20151226_104218430.jpg" width="180" /></a>Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-27902501122237520412016-04-03T01:17:00.000-04:002016-04-03T23:52:01.721-04:00Diary 2016/04/02<br />
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It has been a couple of years since I've worked a Springtime Tallahassee Saturday. The annual festival starts with an early morning run. Being close to downtown, yet having fairly quiet streets, our neighborhood around Myers Park, a forested, upland area, is where local runs often are mapped.<br />
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This morning's run made my planned route to work, to avoid downtown road closings, impossible. I found myself forced onto Apalachee Parkway toward the capitol, onto Monroe, our "main street", (which would be the parade route later), and west on Tennessee Street to the library.<br />
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It was at least as quick as my planned southern "back way", and more entertaining. I observed a conquistador and his lady waiting to cross at Tennessee, looking for their krewe.<br />
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Parking my Vespa near the staff entrance, people waited there for the Friends of the Library book sale to begin in the garage. As I stowed my riding gear, the doors rolled up and volunteers came out, placing extra trays of books on the concrete.<br />
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It made me think how for me, books are like the air I breathe. I have free access to all the books I want, to the point that wanting to actually own them would be like trying to swallow the ocean. I'm largely content to let libraries own them. But I can remember when book stores and book sales drew me that way, when I lived on the periphery of the book world.<br />
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I was working with Susan E. today, always a pleasure. Susan and I are the senior librarians in adult reference, "old hands". Susan brought up the newspapers. I fetched the zippered bank bag with our store of change, counting it and swapping a $20 for some $1's and quarters from the print station coin machine.<br />
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I noticed an empty microfilm box at the desk with a note to look for the missing reel. Newsweek, 1985. I thought it might still be in one of the machines, and I was right. It had been wound all the way off its reel onto the receiving reel of the machine. The empty reel lay next to the machine. I rewound it. The machine's printer also showed a jam, which I cleared, and the paper tray had been changed to a different alignment, which I restored. I then noticed that the other of our two old viewers needed resetting and unjamming. A sheaf of copies solid black with toner sat to its side with another reel of film. The printer had a sheet of paper stuck to its rollers from toner. I had the depressing feeling that if I were not there, things would go completely to hell.<br />
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Would it make me feel better if they did? More likely, things would just bump along the way they always have. Did we really put a man on the moon?<br />
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I have been gone for a while, so you will not know that I entered DROP in February. What this means is that I am technically retired, though I may work up to five more years, while my pension payments accumulate in an interest-bearing account. You have to apply for DROP at age 62 or 30 years of service, and I turned 62 first, so it was now or never.<br />
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On top of which the main library recently celebrated its 25th anniversary in its present location. I am the only one left who was there when we moved in from our cramped space in the old Northwood Mall. I still have the t-shirt. It was a huge success! Throngs of people showed up. It wasn't about memories, it was about what the library means to people <i>now</i> and every indication is that it means a <i>lot</i>. A vote of confidence and appreciation.<br />
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Listen to me, reader, saying the <i>right thing</i>. DROP and the anniversary were a lot to digest psychologically. I'm still working on it... <br />
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The day was quieter than usual, as it had been the last time I worked a Springtime Tallahassee Saturday. We used to get people coming in to use the restrooms, but not anymore. Possibly the number of portable toilets has been increased. I am guessing that Sunday will be busy, as people take care of business put off today.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-66143636556579749932015-11-10T00:14:00.000-05:002015-11-13T23:46:18.870-05:00Mule Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DYkCYGFsQqc/VkAmzCoXnwI/AAAAAAAADIk/vzVJEUCJghA/s1600/Vista.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DYkCYGFsQqc/VkAmzCoXnwI/AAAAAAAADIk/vzVJEUCJghA/s320/Vista.jpg" width="320" /> </a> </div>
We went to Mule Day on Saturday, near Calvary, just over the Georgia line. I have never been to Calvary, and I still haven't, since Mule Day was held in a field outside of town. It was essentially a harvest festival. Demonstrations were given of the milling of corn and the grinding of sugar cane for syrup. People could be seen carrying stalks of sugar cane.<br />
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Sugar cane and cane syrup are not foreign to me. My father used to cut a stalk of sugar cane into bite-sized pieces for us to chew. My mother served cane syrup on our pancakes and waffles.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6L_lduXAk8o/VkAmP9VIYVI/AAAAAAAADH0/cqELNue7IQs/s1600/Bunji-Ride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6L_lduXAk8o/VkAmP9VIYVI/AAAAAAAADH0/cqELNue7IQs/s320/Bunji-Ride.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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There were not a lot of rides for children at Mule Day, but the mother and child at the bungee ride were having a blast.</div>
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<img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-68AiTBoXdvg/VkAmlUPHeMI/AAAAAAAADIM/xLJ3N_AWXIc/s320/Kiddie_Train.jpg" width="320" /></div>
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Here is a sort of "choo-choo train" that doesn't require tracks. Are the cars made from oil drums?</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aGuopiFaWBk/VkAmcXP4ddI/AAAAAAAADIE/qnj22MdN3NY/s1600/Cemetery_Flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aGuopiFaWBk/VkAmcXP4ddI/AAAAAAAADIE/qnj22MdN3NY/s320/Cemetery_Flowers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Arrangements of silk flowers for cemeteries. Lots of the usual things were on offer: clothing, crafts, baked goods. I've never before seen cemetery flowers for sale at an event like this.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h_YNShy2LmM/VkAnSJnegoI/AAAAAAAADI0/7sFW0m58LSs/s1600/Majorettes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h_YNShy2LmM/VkAnSJnegoI/AAAAAAAADI0/7sFW0m58LSs/s320/Majorettes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The Cairo High Marching Syrupmakers majorettes! Having been in marching bands, I have a weakness for majorettes.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iuwo5bQP57E/VkAmZgq2GmI/AAAAAAAADH8/pkEDCxXU5Ug/s1600/Colors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iuwo5bQP57E/VkAmZgq2GmI/AAAAAAAADH8/pkEDCxXU5Ug/s320/Colors.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The parade began with the procession of the flags.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JEsRilzA24I/VkAmtsndNYI/AAAAAAAADIc/VLlO-DAgYUM/s1600/Tractor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JEsRilzA24I/VkAmtsndNYI/AAAAAAAADIc/VLlO-DAgYUM/s320/Tractor.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Many vintage tractors were on display. Two men behind me remembered them all.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a9s7NydOGGk/VkAnQXsUtRI/AAAAAAAADIw/_B0b2iSoFJE/s1600/Mule_Wagon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a9s7NydOGGk/VkAnQXsUtRI/AAAAAAAADIw/_B0b2iSoFJE/s320/Mule_Wagon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Mule-drawn wagons with splendid harnesses rolled by. The mules do actually make a "hee-haw" sound.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FMVYAx8b3Ms/VkAmpcVzggI/AAAAAAAADIU/6Il01PNUtlk/s1600/The_Soil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FMVYAx8b3Ms/VkAmpcVzggI/AAAAAAAADIU/6Il01PNUtlk/s320/The_Soil.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The Land. The people are very close to the land: getting a living from it in a way that I am so removed from. <br />
<br />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-23423593713860577022015-08-30T23:55:00.000-04:002015-10-06T23:55:15.170-04:00Farewell Old FriendsI finally took all my old computers and peripherals to the electronics recycling boneyard at the county landfill. What you don't see: a huge '80's radio/cassette/CD boom box, a garbage bag full of keyboards, (one with s <u>serial port</u> connector!), ball mice, LAN cards, a rat's nest of cables and cords, two "game port" joysticks.<br />
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I had already gotten rid of my newest old Windows XP PC, which died in early 2014. I let a computer guy have it in return for transferring its files to an external hard drive. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yFrXH5LZ2D4/VeKA8v3jMgI/AAAAAAAADBg/-aVkbNgapKs/s1600/IMG_20150828_224348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yFrXH5LZ2D4/VeKA8v3jMgI/AAAAAAAADBg/-aVkbNgapKs/s320/IMG_20150828_224348.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I held on to these as part of a fantasy about playing old games on them: preserving classics like Age of Rifles, Red Baron 3D and Longbow 2 on machines they were made for, rather than trying to get them to work on newer OS's. But the years went by, and finally I had to face that those days were gone forever.<br />
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On the left you see my AMD K6_2 300 mhz PC, which I bought from a local shop, Compu-Wiz, in 1998. I was in the middle of grad school, writing my papers on a hand-me-down Compaq DeskPro 386, offline, saving them on a floppy disk to print or e-mail at work.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--XYELANQ7QE/VhSXaAoIj9I/AAAAAAAADFU/RUsNZhZ4ShA/s1600/Machine_Love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--XYELANQ7QE/VhSXaAoIj9I/AAAAAAAADFU/RUsNZhZ4ShA/s320/Machine_Love.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The K6-2 had Win98, a dial-up modem, and a 3.2 gb hard drive, and it blew my mind. The times we had, I and my old K6-2! I even dual-booted with several versions of Linux. Observe how it is stained from cigarette smoke, (I quit three years ago).</div>
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On the right is its successor, which was my graduation present to myself in 2001. The K6-2 wasn't powerful enough to play Red Baron 3D with mods installed. I was done with school, and ready to have some fun. The new machine had an AMD Athlon Thunderbird 1 ghz processor and a massive 40 gb hard drive. Still Windows 98, though, which I would hang on to until it was hopelessly out of date.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dDnrt3O15Ak/VePCU_HP9kI/AAAAAAAADCI/YKQ-N3jTGoI/s1600/RedBaron3D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dDnrt3O15Ak/VePCU_HP9kI/AAAAAAAADCI/YKQ-N3jTGoI/s320/RedBaron3D.jpg" width="271" /></a></div>
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I joined an online squadron, JGS4, and in the summer of 2002 we won the championship.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_YoHzE2ylcI/VePDPJwmlzI/AAAAAAAADCQ/WOCLI5xK8qU/s1600/m1628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_YoHzE2ylcI/VePDPJwmlzI/AAAAAAAADCQ/WOCLI5xK8qU/s320/m1628.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, bombing an aerodrome.</td></tr>
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I gave up online gaming after that, but enjoyed Red Baron single-player campaigns for quite a long time.</div>
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I believe it was phone company and ISP changes that forced me to upgrade to a new PC. Sprint became Embarq. The quality of their DSL service was unsatisfactory, and I switched to Comcast cable, which I have never regretted. In January 2008 I bought a Windows XP machine from Velocity Micro, which lasted until 2014. Then I bought my present PC, a Dell 8700 Intel 3.10 ghz with Windows 7.</div>
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I know that things must change, not least in technology. The market needed improvements in operating systems, browsers, networks, and so on. Now we have social networks, YouTube, Google Apps, smartphones, all of which I use and enjoy. But that Athlon PC with Windows 98 and Red Baron 3D was the golden age for me.</div>
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Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-61682776985310711862015-08-20T00:48:00.000-04:002015-08-21T23:27:43.495-04:00By the SeasideR. and I took a day-trip to <a href="http://www.seasidefl.com/" target="_blank">Seaside</a>, the planned beach town west of Panama City on the Florida panhandle. As we arrived on Highway 30-A, it immediately felt different from the usual Florida coastal sprawl: quaint cottages, people in beachwear coasting along on bike-paths. I joked to R. that I felt like I was in an episode of <i>The Prisoner</i>. Then we came to the town center and easily found a place to park. We were glad we came on a Wednesday, because even so there were a lot of visitors. We changed in convenient public restrooms and headed for the beach. Now, I laughed, the big white ball couldn't single us out!<br />
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The forecast had been for a good chance of rain, but a brisk sea-breeze kept the day sunny and not oppressively hot. R. loitered at the water's edge while I took my dip. I had not been to the beach in years. The brine washed over me. The rolling waves pushed me this way and that. I swam underwater with my eyes open, welcoming the salty sting on my much-operated-upon orbs. (I had cataract and cornea surgeries in '13 and '14.) The working of the sea exercised me, and after thirty minutes or so it was time for lunch.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cc7O1huql_o/VdVUjyoRGvI/AAAAAAAAC8M/2lUwuxFphkU/s1600/IMG_20150819_202225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cc7O1huql_o/VdVUjyoRGvI/AAAAAAAAC8M/2lUwuxFphkU/s320/IMG_20150819_202225.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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High above the beach, eating a fish sandwich and drinking iced tea, I was happy, and so was R.<br />
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Now it was time for <i>shopping</i>. One of those little "pattern language" things: there were <i>lots</i> of places for a hubby to chill while his wife noses around in shops.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VyLoJ__EBEM/VdVUVcPjrRI/AAAAAAAAC70/0Zdnbt1d20o/s1600/IMG_20150819_150031890_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VyLoJ__EBEM/VdVUVcPjrRI/AAAAAAAAC70/0Zdnbt1d20o/s320/IMG_20150819_150031890_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is an area called "the shops of Ruskin", with galleries and boutiques. I didn't bother to take a picture, but Seaside has a <i>very fine</i> bookstore, <a href="http://www.sundogbooks.com/" target="_blank">Sundog Books</a>. If I were not a librarian and lived in Seaside, Sundog would meet all my needs. Just excellent.<br />
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Sign for a country church on Highway 20 that says it all.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-61191833685710676552015-07-30T23:36:00.000-04:002015-07-30T23:36:14.566-04:00The Roof of the LibrarySeen from the staff lounge on the third floor.<br />
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<br />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-12549047136696588962015-05-14T23:37:00.000-04:002015-05-15T09:51:56.380-04:00The Tower<iframe height="248" src="https://www.nfb.ca/film/tower_bawher/embed/player" width="400"></iframe><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.nfb.ca/film/tower_bawher" target="_blank"><i>Tower Bawher </i></a> by <a href="https://www.nfb.ca/explore-all-directors/theodore-ushev/" target="_blank" title="more films by Theodore Ushev">Theodore Ushev</a>, <a href="https://www.nfb.ca/" target="_blank">National Film Board of Canada</a></span></div>
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Maybe reading Stuart Kaminsky's Rostnikov mysteries evoked it from my memory, but this morning a picture of the leaning tower of Pisa on a bookmark in a donated book made me think of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tatlin%27s_Tower" target="_blank">Tatlin's Tower</a>, the proposed monument to the Third International.<br />
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Models survive in Moscow, Paris, London, Stockholm, but apparently not in Berlin, where I saw one in the dusty display window of an empty building in 1978. It is a pity that it was never built.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-91813498308648547552015-02-06T23:24:00.000-05:002015-02-06T23:28:22.420-05:00Reference Workroom, Then and NowWe were talking about a slogan that one heard during the recession of 2008 and after, "doing more with less". I said, jokingly, that we ended up doing <u>less</u> with less, but in a way it's true. The agent of change was not so much lean times, but automation: of acquisitions, (ipage), of reference transactions, (Google, etcetera), of interlibrary loan, (ILLiad). Our workroom bears a kind of witness to these changes.<br />
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2002<br />
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2015<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Workroom annex, built 2003?</td></tr>
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Where did all the paper go?Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-36251400386915224842015-02-02T23:43:00.000-05:002015-02-02T23:43:30.849-05:00St. Augustine Branch 2009: Before Cascades ParkI took these photos five years ago. Now that the area has been completely remade into Cascades Park, I thought it might be interesting to take a look back.<br />
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The rest of these were taken through a chain-link fence.<br />
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<br />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-7107985334564558262015-02-01T00:07:00.001-05:002015-02-01T00:07:55.830-05:00More WalksThe weather has been gorgeous. Highs in the '60s, lows at night in the '30s, clear and sunny.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My street, Sarasota Drive, looking east.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alban Avenue</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camellias are blooming</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little mid-century modern on Maple Drive is a favorite of ours. It's behind our house.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A saucer magnolia. Spring is a long way off, but the dogwoods and redbuds are already blooming as well.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holly trees are heavy with fruit.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chapman Pond was busy with Hooded Mergansers and Canada geese.</td></tr>
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<br />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-71054991368881385302015-01-24T23:46:00.000-05:002015-02-01T00:53:05.503-05:00Old Fort ParkOld Fort Park is about a block from my house. It isn't much of a fort. It was a Civil War era observation post with perhaps an artillery piece, overlooking the approach to Tallahassee from the Gulf coast.<br />
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The park is the site of our Woodland Drives Neighborhood Association picnics. People walk their dogs there, children play games.<br />
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An historical marker at the park reads:<br />
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This earth work located on ground once part of the plantation of E.A.
Houston, father of Captain Patrick Houston (later state adjutant
general) who commanded the Confederate artillery at the Battle of
Natural Bridge, is a silent witness of the efforts of the citizens of
Tallahassee to protect the capitol of Florida from capture by federal
troops under General John Newton. </blockquote>
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Newton's force landed at St. Marks light house and advanced up the east
side of the St. Marks River, only to be decisively repulsed at Natural
Bridge on March 6, 1865, by a hurriedly assembled Confederate force
commanded by General Sam Jones, which included a company of cadets from
the West Florida Seminary, now Florida State University.</blockquote>
So not a shot was fired in anger from this fort, nor a Yankee seen.<br />
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There is another line of breastworks downhill to the south in someone's back yard. I saw them once when the house was for sale.<br />
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These were taken with my Droid Mini phone. Not bad at all.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-33141621037637722932015-01-11T00:23:00.000-05:002015-01-16T15:03:08.694-05:00Long WalksTwo weeks off. I used so much sick leave for my eye surgeries last year that I have to use some "annual" leave this month or lose it. It's been very cold for Florida, hat & coat weather, but I have to move or my mind stagnates.<br />
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Back to my Canon S90 here. Far superior to my Droid Mini's camera, and no more trouble to carry.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarasota & Country Club Drive; built in the 1920's.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northeast perimeter of the golf course.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where to send your golf ball.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Houses facing Old Fort Park at Seminole & Maple</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ferns in my yard after a hard freeze.</td></tr>
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<br />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-31275167562795353392015-01-10T00:18:00.000-05:002015-01-10T23:29:56.253-05:00Review and Book List for the Iraq & Afghan WarsMichio Kakutani has published an interesting round-up in the New York Times of recent reportage, memoirs and fiction about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, <a href="http://nyti.ms/1woZmZl" target="_blank">Human Costs of the Forever Wars, Enough to Fill a Bookshelf</a>, accompanied by, <a href="http://nyti.ms/1CJf3D0" target="_blank">A Reading List of Modern War Stories</a>.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Even as the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan morph into shapeless struggles
with no clear ends in sight, they have given birth to an extraordinary
outpouring of writing that tries to make sense of it all: journalism
that has unraveled the back story of how and why America went to war,
and also a profusion of stories, novels, memoirs and poems that testify
to the day-to-day realities and to the wars’ ever-unspooling human
costs.</blockquote>
The reading list is not exhaustive, but would make a good start for a library display. In my library, war displays tend to appear twice a year, for Memorial Day and Veterans Day. This past summer we put up a special display for the one-hundredth anniversary of World War I, which moved pretty well. But I am not sure how an Iraq & Afghan Wars display would be received.<br />
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I struggled over whether, and then how, to post these links, but they were clearly good material. And the books themselves delineate better that I ever could the tragedy of these wars. Would our readers pick them up?<br />
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I remember the time we tried a display on some anniversary of the 9/11 World Trade Center attack. I don't think a single book was checked out.<br />
<br />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-15992497690768391472015-01-01T00:23:00.001-05:002015-01-01T00:44:03.730-05:00Seeing Again & Old Newspapers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After a couple of years of deteriorating vision, and five eye surgeries over the last 14 months for cataracts and corneal transplants, I can at last see again! For a librarian, this is a pretty big deal. Add to this my recent acquisition of a smartphone with a decent camera, and I find I'd rather share pictures than write.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fried cheese-grits, ham & egg, a Southern man's delight.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was a black A.M.E. church, across the street from the library, now the offices of a non-profit org. An ancient mossy live oak tree in front.<br />
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From <i>Ancestral Voices</i>, the first volume of the diaries of James Lees-Milne, I find an observation that has often come to me while browsing old newspapers on microfilm, "He only reads eighteenth-century newspapers, of which he has an enormous stock, for he says the news in them is just the same as it is today. You merely have to substitute the names of countries occasionally, and not invariably." Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-49559443659593842402014-12-15T00:02:00.000-05:002014-12-15T00:02:14.089-05:00Trying Out My Smartphone Camera<br />
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I bought a Motorola Droid Mini, my first smartphone! I took these pictures with its 10 megapixel camera. Not bad, but no comparison with my Canon S90.</div>
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The first two are of the southwest side of the library. </div>
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Here is Bronough Street looking north on a cool, bright December day.<br />
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Here are some MovinCool portable air conditioners in the basement corridor. They had been used temporarily while repairs were made to the library's HVAC system. They look a little Dalek-like, no?<br />
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<br />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-19151205229435012722014-11-04T23:57:00.002-05:002014-11-05T00:19:00.000-05:00Asian Crime Fiction<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here is a book list I put together for a display. I don't much care for Scandinavian crime, but it has been credited with encouraging the growth of international crime fiction in English. These books have Asian characters or Asian settings or both. I include only books that our library owns, but the list might be of use to librarians, or as a reading checklist. Where only the series name is given, see <a href="http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/" target="_blank">Fantastic Fiction</a> for titles. The image, which I borrowed from Grand Theft Auto, was used on my display poster, with the brushstroke font Bonzai.<br />
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Brackman, Lisa<br />
Rock Paper Tiger<br />
Hour of the Rat<br />
Browne, Marshall<br />
Rendezvous at Kamakura Inn<br />
Burdett, John<br />
Bangkok series<br />
Chandra, Vikram<br />
Sacred Games<br />
Chang, Henry<br />
Detective Jack Yu series<br />
Cotterill, Colin<br />
Dr. Siri series<br />
Jimm Juree series<br />
Flint, Shamini<br />
Inspector Singh series<br />
Higashino, Keigo<br />
The Devotion of Suspect X<br />
Salvation of a Saint<br />
Hirahara, Naomi<br />
Mas Arai series<br />
Murder in Bamboo Lane<br />
Isaka, Kotaro<br />
Remote Control<br />
Keating, H.R.F.<br />
Inspector Ghote series<br />
Kirino, Natsuo<br />
Real World<br />
Out<br />
Lancet, Barry<br />
Japantown<br />
Tokyo Kill<br />
Lee, Don<br />
Country of Origin<br />
Lewis, Simon<br />
Bad Traffic<br />
Liang, Diane Wei<br />
Mei Wang mysteries<br />
Limon, Martin<br />
Sueño and Bascomb Investigations<br />
Marshall, William<br />
Yellowthread Street<br />
Miyabe, Miyuki<br />
Shadow Family<br />
All She Was Worth<br />
Pattison, Eliot<br />
Inspector Shan series<br />
Peace, David<br />
Tokyo Year Zero<br />
Occupied City<br />
Qiu, Xiaolong<br />
Inspector Chen series<br />
Robinson, Thatcher<br />
White Ginger<br />
Black Karma<br />
Rozan, S.J.<br />
Lydia Chin series<br />
Shimada, Soji<br />
The Tokyo Zodiac Murders<br />
Swarup, Vikas<br />
Six Suspects<br />
Vittachi, Nury<br />
The Feng Shui DetectiveBretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-89399055036592873812014-10-17T23:19:00.000-04:002014-10-17T23:25:30.479-04:00The Heck with Librarianship<br />
Time for some Gladys Knight and the Pips!<br />
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We used to close our Saturday night partying with Soul Train, which came on after Saturday Night Live at 1 a.m.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-33573731238878641682014-10-06T23:56:00.000-04:002014-10-07T11:02:08.335-04:00Boats for the DeadI will never forget Pope John Paul II's coffin in St. Peter's square: its plain, simple construction, as if to unite his death with the death of every man; how the wind ruffled the pages of the gospel book, before finally closing its cover.<br />
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I was fascinated tonight to hear the story of Marcus Daly, who was inspired by the Pope's casket to turn from building boats to making coffins. He appeared on EWTN's <a href="http://www.ewtn.com/tv/live/journeyhome.asp" target="_blank">The Journey Home</a>, a program featuring the stories of Catholic converts.<br />
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Marcus Daly's web site is <a href="http://mariancaskets.com/" target="_blank">Marian Caskets</a>. <br />
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<br />Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-88061883757977287432014-09-20T16:43:00.000-04:002014-09-20T22:59:25.097-04:00The Benefits of Slow ReadingFrom an article in the Wall Street Journal on September 16, "<a href="http://online.wsj.com/articles/read-slowly-to-benefit-your-brain-and-cut-stress-1410823086" target="_blank">Read Slowly to Benefit Your Brain and Cut Stress</a>", by Jeanne Whalen:<br />
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Once a week, members of a Wellington, New Zealand, book club arrive at a cafe, grab a drink and shut off their cellphones. Then they sink into cozy chairs and read in silence for an hour.<br />
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The point of the club isn't to talk about literature, but to get away from pinging electronic devices and read, uninterrupted. The group calls itself the Slow Reading Club, and it is at the forefront of a movement populated by frazzled book lovers who miss old-school reading.<br />
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Slow reading advocates seek a return to the focused reading habits of years gone by, before Google, smartphones and social media started fracturing our time and attention spans. Many of its advocates say they embraced the concept after realizing they couldn't make it through a book anymore.</blockquote>
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Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7412935501814538464.post-14900238992196085742014-08-12T23:58:00.001-04:002014-08-18T23:09:36.548-04:00Wild Horses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I found this wall art while clicking through the West Texas town of Rankin in <a href="https://www.google.com/maps?ll=31.225429,-101.939062&spn=0.001814,0.00239&t=m&layer=c&cbll=31.225657,-101.939223&panoid=4wspcROjHD3KLBA1kAh3TQ&cbp=13,135.57,,0,-7.75&z=19" target="_blank">Google Street View</a>. Its red pigment and primitive energy called to mind the cave-paintings of Europe.<br />
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The building appears to have been a "thrift shop", now empty. Next to it is the First State Bank of Rankin, which boasts an <a href="http://www.waymarking.com/waymarks/WMK9PF_First_State_Bank_of_Rankin" target="_blank">historical marker</a>.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389916070547430075noreply@blogger.com1