Yesterday was the day. March 14. The County of Los Angeles has cut off the Valencia, Newhall and Canyon Country libraries from the other branches in the library system. Whatever I put on hold now has to be available at those particular branches or I'm sunk.
I've lost most of Quentin Crisp's books, save for the one or two at my Valencia library. Ditto for Bukowski, though the loss is far more wide-ranging, considering that the only Bukowski book I recall being readily available at Valencia was his last one, his novel "Pulp." I recall a copy of "Post Office" being next to it, but I haven't seen it in a while and I'm not even sure if it's still available at that branch. I don't need it anyway, since I have my own copy, but all those books of his poetry are truly a grievous loss. I still would have liked to have them all available so I could go back to the ones I don't have, but don't feel a surging need to own.
I've also lost "Lawnboy" by Paul Lisicky, and I remember the copy from the West Hollywood branch that I checked out often. I hope someone else gives it the same attention I did.
All the books that I checked out on Saturday from other branches, I now feel more compelled to read than I did before. I've checked out "Best Food Writing 2000" twice before. I'm now on page 124. And I know that I'd better get to those books related to my presidential research. Otherwise, I'll end up denting my savings account again beyond the dents that have already been made for my own utter pleasure.
I've never had to be so focused on particular library branches. In Pembroke Pines, Florida, at that library, I remember a cart being brought out with a few of my holds on it, mostly movies from other libraries, and I didn't even think to see which libraries they came from. I wanted to see those movies and that's all that mattered to me.
But now, I can't just search for a title and immediately put it on hold. I have to actually look at the listings, to see if hopefully one of those three branches has it. I think this will also lead to me looking in the folder I have here in the bookmarks in Internet Explorer with links to so many books listed on Amazon and other sites. For pleasure reading, I'm going to have to go through those to see what I really want to read and hope that I can get it.
The City of Santa Clarita has spent $1 million dollars to create this new library system. They're going to borrow $8 million dollars to pay for "buying buildings and materials", according to the article on The Signal website (http://www.the-signal.com/section/36/article/41837). And now it's said that it could take a decade to pay it all back. The City is also paying a private company, LSSI, $1.3 million to operate the libraries in the first year.
We would have been better off remaining with the County of Los Angeles. This much money would not have been wasted and we would have remained connected to the County, which is far more important than this unnecessary isolationism just so the City Council can feel more powerful. A City Council whose members do not have library cards. Figure that out.
One thing's for sure: Don't even think about trying to get a new book a month or so after it comes out. That holds list is going to be a lot longer for the latest releases and take a lot more time. I'm lucky I'm more interested in the distant past than the present.
In other book-related news, while reading "Best Food Writing 2000", I was suddenly seized with the need to write, and I grabbed one of my yellow legal pads, and wrote two pages of what I think might be the beginning of my novel. I haven't done any significant research for it yet, but I know the basic story, and I know the style I want for it, and I've had a lot of experience on my own with the subject matter, so I just began writing. It reads well, and I know it might not fit (I've already noticed one detail that makes me question the logic of it), but it's a proper start.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
The History of a Book
I started "The Man Within" by Graham Greene late yesterday afternoon, and finished it in the middle of this morning. It's a fine, full sketch of a man who believes himself to be cowardly, but a thin story.
Sometimes you're fortunate to find a book that contains not only the story the author has intended (whether he or she has succeeded is entirely up to the reader), but a history that tells its own story, even with the names and personalities of those who read this particular copy left out. That's the case with this copy of "The Man Within", which came from the Angelo M. Iacoboni Library in Lakewood.
The novel was first published in 1929, and under that piece of information on a page before the start, it says "Reissued by the Viking Press in April 1947." So this copy I hold might have been from 1947. And yet, the due dates stamped on the page after the cover go from June 17, 1969 to November 12, 1987. So the book might very well have come into the possession of this particular library in 1969.
There is one trend for older books that I like. It's the text itself being carefully removed from its original covers and placed within what seem to be reinforced cardboard covers of an aqua-like color, with "The Man Within --- Greene" (the dashes and Greene are under the title, which starts at the top with "The" and then moves down a level for "Man", and then again for "Within." Thus:
The
Man
Within
---
Greene
The color of these covers are the same as the copy of "Subways are for Sleeping" that resides at the Hawthorne branch. The copy I bought from the Norwalk branch has grassy green covers. I like some books being presented this way because there's nothing to be assumed or considered from the covers. It's as plain as can be. The real importance lies with the words to be consumed by the reader.
Now, it's possible that this book had seen times earlier than June 17, 1969. Perhaps the pocket glued onto the inside front cover was for due date cards, which perhaps were no longer used at this branch by 1969. On the last page, a few inches down from "THE END", there's a date written in pen, "1956." But it seems to me that the pen marking would have faded considerably since then. It looks to be about maybe a decade old or just a tad more.
Under that marking is a blue stamping that says "REBOUND SEP 10 1968." A repair for this book. Maybe that's when these covers were placed against these 316 pages. Sturdier, and the previous covers had probably already begun to fall apart from so much use. I hope there was so much use. It is Graham Greene after all, even in this light, minor beginning which led to many masterpieces.
I wonder about the many people before me who checked out this book. Who was "JUN 27 1973"? Was "JAN 12 1977" as avid a reader as I am? Had "JAN 10 1981" checked out this book to read for a book club? Was "FEB 28 1986" in his or her teens, and had found a few novels by Graham Greene on their grandparents' bookshelves? Were they so taken by those later works that they wanted to see what he had done in his early writing life?
There was even relatively recent history in this book. I got to page 259 and found a square of paper, facedown on the page. It was a receipt from the automated checkout machines you use to check out books yourself. It had come from someone who likely reads one book at a time, because this was the only book they had checked out on their card. I like this person, because they give their full attention to one book, but I could never do that. I need lots of books every single day. After I'd had that nasty bout of anxiety last year, Mom thought I might also have been overwhelmed by the number of books I checked out, and said that I should only check out three books a week. That worked out well enough in recovery, but as I reprioritized my life, as I lost lots of weight, I realized that my great love in life is books. And I was not going to live on only three books a week. The stacks are here, as they were when I was that much heavier person, but I love them so. I love all the possibilities they contain, and I know that if I become bored by one book (Such as it was with "A Cup of Friendship" by Deborah Rodriguez which, despite the novelty of the center of it being a coffee shop in Kabul, the prose was too plain for me to want to proceed. I skimmed a few random pages, found it remained that way through the rest of the book, and gave up. The former me would have slogged his way through that book. But if a book has me bored now, why should I suffer?), there's always another possibility waiting.
The person who had checked out "The Man Within" had done so on February 7, 2009, with the due date on February 28. Two years ago. I wonder what that person thought of this book. I wonder if, like me, they decided to read through all of Graham Greene's works. I especially would like to know if they did, and also what they thought of "Travels with My Aunt" which I love dearly, and am proud to have it in my collection. I love the movie adaptation equally because it still hews to the spirit of the book, while becoming its own work. I wouldn't mind if that person didn't like "Travels with My Aunt." Different opinions make the world worth living in each day, adding color by way of the minds that harbor those opinions, those minds shaped by influences different from mine.
I've now reached "Stamboul Train" (published in the United States as "Orient Express", but this Penguin edition has the original title), after being unable to find "The Name of Action" and "Rumour at Nightfall" in the County of Los Angeles library catalog. I will get to those one day, since I want to see how much Greene improved with "The Name of Action" after "The Man Within", but the copies floating around on the Internet are prohibitively expensive. There are copies for $136, $600, $120, $250. Not for me. Maybe Penguin will republish Greene's works and make it easier on me. I'm not disappointed. I can't wait to see what comes next. And having been introduced to the varied, well-drawn characters of "Stamboul Train", which capture my interest more than that first novel (It's indicative of Greene learning more and starting to become a major force in literature), it's going to be quite a grand adventure.
Sometimes you're fortunate to find a book that contains not only the story the author has intended (whether he or she has succeeded is entirely up to the reader), but a history that tells its own story, even with the names and personalities of those who read this particular copy left out. That's the case with this copy of "The Man Within", which came from the Angelo M. Iacoboni Library in Lakewood.
The novel was first published in 1929, and under that piece of information on a page before the start, it says "Reissued by the Viking Press in April 1947." So this copy I hold might have been from 1947. And yet, the due dates stamped on the page after the cover go from June 17, 1969 to November 12, 1987. So the book might very well have come into the possession of this particular library in 1969.
There is one trend for older books that I like. It's the text itself being carefully removed from its original covers and placed within what seem to be reinforced cardboard covers of an aqua-like color, with "The Man Within --- Greene" (the dashes and Greene are under the title, which starts at the top with "The" and then moves down a level for "Man", and then again for "Within." Thus:
The
Man
Within
---
Greene
The color of these covers are the same as the copy of "Subways are for Sleeping" that resides at the Hawthorne branch. The copy I bought from the Norwalk branch has grassy green covers. I like some books being presented this way because there's nothing to be assumed or considered from the covers. It's as plain as can be. The real importance lies with the words to be consumed by the reader.
Now, it's possible that this book had seen times earlier than June 17, 1969. Perhaps the pocket glued onto the inside front cover was for due date cards, which perhaps were no longer used at this branch by 1969. On the last page, a few inches down from "THE END", there's a date written in pen, "1956." But it seems to me that the pen marking would have faded considerably since then. It looks to be about maybe a decade old or just a tad more.
Under that marking is a blue stamping that says "REBOUND SEP 10 1968." A repair for this book. Maybe that's when these covers were placed against these 316 pages. Sturdier, and the previous covers had probably already begun to fall apart from so much use. I hope there was so much use. It is Graham Greene after all, even in this light, minor beginning which led to many masterpieces.
I wonder about the many people before me who checked out this book. Who was "JUN 27 1973"? Was "JAN 12 1977" as avid a reader as I am? Had "JAN 10 1981" checked out this book to read for a book club? Was "FEB 28 1986" in his or her teens, and had found a few novels by Graham Greene on their grandparents' bookshelves? Were they so taken by those later works that they wanted to see what he had done in his early writing life?
There was even relatively recent history in this book. I got to page 259 and found a square of paper, facedown on the page. It was a receipt from the automated checkout machines you use to check out books yourself. It had come from someone who likely reads one book at a time, because this was the only book they had checked out on their card. I like this person, because they give their full attention to one book, but I could never do that. I need lots of books every single day. After I'd had that nasty bout of anxiety last year, Mom thought I might also have been overwhelmed by the number of books I checked out, and said that I should only check out three books a week. That worked out well enough in recovery, but as I reprioritized my life, as I lost lots of weight, I realized that my great love in life is books. And I was not going to live on only three books a week. The stacks are here, as they were when I was that much heavier person, but I love them so. I love all the possibilities they contain, and I know that if I become bored by one book (Such as it was with "A Cup of Friendship" by Deborah Rodriguez which, despite the novelty of the center of it being a coffee shop in Kabul, the prose was too plain for me to want to proceed. I skimmed a few random pages, found it remained that way through the rest of the book, and gave up. The former me would have slogged his way through that book. But if a book has me bored now, why should I suffer?), there's always another possibility waiting.
The person who had checked out "The Man Within" had done so on February 7, 2009, with the due date on February 28. Two years ago. I wonder what that person thought of this book. I wonder if, like me, they decided to read through all of Graham Greene's works. I especially would like to know if they did, and also what they thought of "Travels with My Aunt" which I love dearly, and am proud to have it in my collection. I love the movie adaptation equally because it still hews to the spirit of the book, while becoming its own work. I wouldn't mind if that person didn't like "Travels with My Aunt." Different opinions make the world worth living in each day, adding color by way of the minds that harbor those opinions, those minds shaped by influences different from mine.
I've now reached "Stamboul Train" (published in the United States as "Orient Express", but this Penguin edition has the original title), after being unable to find "The Name of Action" and "Rumour at Nightfall" in the County of Los Angeles library catalog. I will get to those one day, since I want to see how much Greene improved with "The Name of Action" after "The Man Within", but the copies floating around on the Internet are prohibitively expensive. There are copies for $136, $600, $120, $250. Not for me. Maybe Penguin will republish Greene's works and make it easier on me. I'm not disappointed. I can't wait to see what comes next. And having been introduced to the varied, well-drawn characters of "Stamboul Train", which capture my interest more than that first novel (It's indicative of Greene learning more and starting to become a major force in literature), it's going to be quite a grand adventure.
Wow! You're a Rory and You Wrote a Book? What a Coincidence!
I went looking for a book by a Rory, involving a dock.
That's all I knew.
I went to the County of Los Angeles library website, thinking that all I would need is "dock Rory", under "Title." Nothing.
I went to Amazon. "dock Rory." I found it. "Down at the Docks" by Rory Nugent (How I discovered this book is fodder for a longer entry and you won't have to wait long, but not right now). The first time I read it, I got restless, though I think now it was no fault of the book. But after my mind hooked into this book again and reintroduced me to it just now, I decided on a new pursuit amidst all my other reading and writing-related pursuits:
I'm going to read all the books written by a Rory.
First, I've become one of the author Rorys. Secondly, whenever I search for only my first name on Google, I come upon Rorys who are golfers, musicians, artists, a chairmaker, a hot-tub installer, a politician, and other quite unique careers. I was blessed with this name. I ought to see how other writer Rorys are making good on the name.
That's all I knew.
I went to the County of Los Angeles library website, thinking that all I would need is "dock Rory", under "Title." Nothing.
I went to Amazon. "dock Rory." I found it. "Down at the Docks" by Rory Nugent (How I discovered this book is fodder for a longer entry and you won't have to wait long, but not right now). The first time I read it, I got restless, though I think now it was no fault of the book. But after my mind hooked into this book again and reintroduced me to it just now, I decided on a new pursuit amidst all my other reading and writing-related pursuits:
I'm going to read all the books written by a Rory.
First, I've become one of the author Rorys. Secondly, whenever I search for only my first name on Google, I come upon Rorys who are golfers, musicians, artists, a chairmaker, a hot-tub installer, a politician, and other quite unique careers. I was blessed with this name. I ought to see how other writer Rorys are making good on the name.
NPR CEO: I'm Game!
I hear NPR has a vacant CEO slot. I'm happy to take the job as long as I get to harass Peter Sagal with obsolete trivia, and frustrate Garrison Keillor with my attempts to look and sound like a Minnesotan. I'll be the David Brent/Michael Scott of the smart set!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Latest Reading List
Here's what I've been reading lately:
- "And Furthermore" by Judi Dench: Not done with it yet, but it's pure joy reading about the life of one of my favorite actresses, who still is an impressive force in acting.
- "Opera 101" by Fred Plotkin: You can't begin to know what makes you passionate unless you learn all about it. So this is a start. Still reading it.
- "Talk Show" by Dick Cavett: I hope for a paperback edition to make for easier storage in my collection. I really, really, really, really, really want this one. It's like having an endlessly intelligent conversation with Cavett himself. Word usage to admire, sentence structure to mull over in your mind, and thoughts to make you think, "Why aren't there more Dick Cavetts in the world?"
- "Here We Go Again: My Life in Television" by Betty White: This was spurred on by my wishing "Empty Nest" would return, and then getting that wish when Hallmark Channel decided to air a marathon one Saturday, and then put it in its schedule when the demand was so great. It debuts in full form today. We're a Susan Harris household, since my dad loves "The Golden Girls" and watches it every chance he gets. I did the same with "Empty Nest" when it was in reruns in the '90s (I don't remember watching it during its original run), and I will do the same when it airs on Hallmark. I want to memorize it like Dad has every single episode of "The Golden Girls" memorized.
I decided that I wanted to read the autobiographies by Betty White and by Rue McClahanan. White's was a lot of fun, about the advent of television, about how it expanded during her decades in it, and there's a reprint of this book now with an afterword reflecting her resurgence in television. I read the first edition, from 1995, so I haven't read that afterword, but every single chapter has insights that are true marks not only of a television veteran, but of someone who clearly enjoyed every single opportunity afforded her, and it shows in every single paragraph.
I tried reading Rue McClanahan's book after, "My First Five Husbands and The Ones Who Got Away", but McClanahan's prose feels too insular. That might be the word. I don't expect every author to write for readers (though I hope that is the intent), but if it's a world I've not been in, it has to be a little more open. However, with McClanahan's book, I knew exactly why I had checked it out of the library, and flipped to "The Golden Girls" sections. My favorite parts were about the directors of the show, about how veteran Jay Sandrich directed the pilot and then moved on, and then the slot was filled by Paul Bogart, who believed that he should be the go-between for the producers, writers, and actors. But the cast didn't believe that there should be that much difficulty in communicating with those who gave them those jobs, so Bogart was replaced after three episodes.
Then came Terry Hughes, who McClanahan called "the fifth Golden Girl." British, charming, and completely in tune with what the show was, Hughes was the chief director up until the 5th season, when he got an offer to direct a feature film and wanted to do it. McClanahan mentions that there was a revolving door of directors, each coming in for one episode apiece, and then Bea Arthur found a director she liked, who McClanahan called "not inspired, but pliable", and that person, whoever he was (and I intend to find out who it was by the credits in those later seasons), began directing regularly.
- "Fried Chicken: An American Story" and "Apple Pie: An American Story" by John T. Edge: Edge is an outstanding food writer and Southern personality, and I ordered these books off of abebooks.com many months ago, along with "Hamburgers & Fries: An American Story" and "Donuts: An American Passion."
I got to this book by way of the Oxford American food issue from 2005, which Edge guest-edited, and which I read most of while at a roller skating rink, Skating Plus, in Ventura on the day before New Year's Eve. Oh sure, I played lots of pinball while there, but I also flipped through this back issue in awe. There was such a clear passion for all kinds of Southern delicacies and memories galore. Within these various essays, I really felt like I was somewhere else. I circled the names of those writers, too, and looked them up after I was done reading the whole thing, but I knew that because Edge had created this issue, he had to be equally great on his own. And he is. Read the entry I posted a few days ago about his Hunter S. Thompson daydream.
The first two books in that series are wonderful travel for the mind. Not just the foods involved, but the people who make them. Try his words on the hottest fried chicken he could find, and the apple pie with green chiles in it. Very few writers would think to explore like this, to dig this deep, to think about fried chicken and apple pie in this manner. Edge knows both so intimately, and I think the same will probably be found in his books on hamburgers and fries, and donuts, once I get to them.
I'm not sure about upcoming books. Lately, I've just picked up what I've checked out that sounds interesting. Ok, yes, there is that book with Gore Vidal's writings about sex, and the one called "Burning Desires: Sex in America", and "Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex" by Mary Roach. I'm not going to apologize for having a penis.
There's also "A Cup of Friendship" by Deborah Rodriguez, and a book about Lyndon Johnson's first 24 hours as president after the assassination of Kennedy. And I think it would also be best to finally get serious about the research for the two books I have in mind. I have many of the books in stacks right now, and I should take advantage before March 14 hits and I lose big. I know I can keep renewing the books I have from those other libraries in the County of Los Angeles system, but I can't put any books on hold that could come from those branches. If they come from one of the three Santa Clarita branches, fine, but I'm screwed otherwise. So I should work on that as well.
I'm happy. How about you?
- "And Furthermore" by Judi Dench: Not done with it yet, but it's pure joy reading about the life of one of my favorite actresses, who still is an impressive force in acting.
- "Opera 101" by Fred Plotkin: You can't begin to know what makes you passionate unless you learn all about it. So this is a start. Still reading it.
- "Talk Show" by Dick Cavett: I hope for a paperback edition to make for easier storage in my collection. I really, really, really, really, really want this one. It's like having an endlessly intelligent conversation with Cavett himself. Word usage to admire, sentence structure to mull over in your mind, and thoughts to make you think, "Why aren't there more Dick Cavetts in the world?"
- "Here We Go Again: My Life in Television" by Betty White: This was spurred on by my wishing "Empty Nest" would return, and then getting that wish when Hallmark Channel decided to air a marathon one Saturday, and then put it in its schedule when the demand was so great. It debuts in full form today. We're a Susan Harris household, since my dad loves "The Golden Girls" and watches it every chance he gets. I did the same with "Empty Nest" when it was in reruns in the '90s (I don't remember watching it during its original run), and I will do the same when it airs on Hallmark. I want to memorize it like Dad has every single episode of "The Golden Girls" memorized.
I decided that I wanted to read the autobiographies by Betty White and by Rue McClahanan. White's was a lot of fun, about the advent of television, about how it expanded during her decades in it, and there's a reprint of this book now with an afterword reflecting her resurgence in television. I read the first edition, from 1995, so I haven't read that afterword, but every single chapter has insights that are true marks not only of a television veteran, but of someone who clearly enjoyed every single opportunity afforded her, and it shows in every single paragraph.
I tried reading Rue McClanahan's book after, "My First Five Husbands and The Ones Who Got Away", but McClanahan's prose feels too insular. That might be the word. I don't expect every author to write for readers (though I hope that is the intent), but if it's a world I've not been in, it has to be a little more open. However, with McClanahan's book, I knew exactly why I had checked it out of the library, and flipped to "The Golden Girls" sections. My favorite parts were about the directors of the show, about how veteran Jay Sandrich directed the pilot and then moved on, and then the slot was filled by Paul Bogart, who believed that he should be the go-between for the producers, writers, and actors. But the cast didn't believe that there should be that much difficulty in communicating with those who gave them those jobs, so Bogart was replaced after three episodes.
Then came Terry Hughes, who McClanahan called "the fifth Golden Girl." British, charming, and completely in tune with what the show was, Hughes was the chief director up until the 5th season, when he got an offer to direct a feature film and wanted to do it. McClanahan mentions that there was a revolving door of directors, each coming in for one episode apiece, and then Bea Arthur found a director she liked, who McClanahan called "not inspired, but pliable", and that person, whoever he was (and I intend to find out who it was by the credits in those later seasons), began directing regularly.
- "Fried Chicken: An American Story" and "Apple Pie: An American Story" by John T. Edge: Edge is an outstanding food writer and Southern personality, and I ordered these books off of abebooks.com many months ago, along with "Hamburgers & Fries: An American Story" and "Donuts: An American Passion."
I got to this book by way of the Oxford American food issue from 2005, which Edge guest-edited, and which I read most of while at a roller skating rink, Skating Plus, in Ventura on the day before New Year's Eve. Oh sure, I played lots of pinball while there, but I also flipped through this back issue in awe. There was such a clear passion for all kinds of Southern delicacies and memories galore. Within these various essays, I really felt like I was somewhere else. I circled the names of those writers, too, and looked them up after I was done reading the whole thing, but I knew that because Edge had created this issue, he had to be equally great on his own. And he is. Read the entry I posted a few days ago about his Hunter S. Thompson daydream.
The first two books in that series are wonderful travel for the mind. Not just the foods involved, but the people who make them. Try his words on the hottest fried chicken he could find, and the apple pie with green chiles in it. Very few writers would think to explore like this, to dig this deep, to think about fried chicken and apple pie in this manner. Edge knows both so intimately, and I think the same will probably be found in his books on hamburgers and fries, and donuts, once I get to them.
I'm not sure about upcoming books. Lately, I've just picked up what I've checked out that sounds interesting. Ok, yes, there is that book with Gore Vidal's writings about sex, and the one called "Burning Desires: Sex in America", and "Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex" by Mary Roach. I'm not going to apologize for having a penis.
There's also "A Cup of Friendship" by Deborah Rodriguez, and a book about Lyndon Johnson's first 24 hours as president after the assassination of Kennedy. And I think it would also be best to finally get serious about the research for the two books I have in mind. I have many of the books in stacks right now, and I should take advantage before March 14 hits and I lose big. I know I can keep renewing the books I have from those other libraries in the County of Los Angeles system, but I can't put any books on hold that could come from those branches. If they come from one of the three Santa Clarita branches, fine, but I'm screwed otherwise. So I should work on that as well.
I'm happy. How about you?
Thursday, March 3, 2011
An Accurate Bookmark
I wasn't thinking about it at the end of a long, satisfying day at the Richard Nixon Library and Museum. All I wanted were bookmarks and whatever else I could find in the souvenir store. In fact, the only reasons I had wanted to go, besides the major one of wanting to visit every single presidential library in my lifetime, was to see all the exhibits and to get bookmarks.
I found the bookmarks. I found the blue leather ones with Nixon on it and a quote from him, and another with a panoramic photo of the entrance to the library. I bought two of each.
Now it's weeks since I went there, and enough time has passed, but reflection only came this morning when I finished reading "Apple Pie: An American Story" by John T. Edge, and decided to start reading "Here We Go Again: My Life in Television" by Betty White.
For the books by John T. Edge (I started with "Fried Chicken", and there's still the books to read on hamburgers and fries, and donuts), I decided to go with a metal bookmark I bought at Barnes & Noble in Burbank, listing "50 books to read before you die." I bought it not because it was another list and I like lists of all kinds, especially with books in them, but because I just liked having all those titles there. If I get to those books, then fine, but if not, well, it makes a great bookmark.
In my room, on my nightstand, I have a coffee mug from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University (back when I was thinking of taking classes online there, back when I thought I might go into a career at an airport, especially McCarran International in Las Vegas) that's filled with bookmarks. I have bookmarks from my local library, many favorites, including animals such as moose reading. Also in that coffee mug are the bookmarks from the Nixon Library. I haven't used the blue leather ones that much lately, but for the Betty White book, I decided to go with the one with that photo of the entrance.
I started reading "Here We Go Again", and I stopped after three pages to look at the bookmark. I wish I knew who took that photograph. I may e-mail the Library and ask. They should know, because there's no name credited on the bookmark. I would like to know what the photographer was thinking, when he or she thought would be the perfect moment to take it, what the intent was, what the higher-ups may have told the photographer what they expected from the photo to grace this bookmark. It fits so well. It captures exactly what I felt in entering this library.
It looks like a mid-afternoon shot. 3 p.m. or so, just about that time when the sun decides that it's probably time to go soon, so it begins to do less in preparation for going home. It's of the main building, which contains a vast tile floor, the entrance to the museum and to the East Room replica, and the souvenir store. You buy your tickets at a register at the souvenir store. Also in the photo on this bookmark is part of the fountain in the parking lot. That's about all that needs to be seen of it. It distinguishes the library somewhat, but it's not as notable as the one at the Reagan Library, and that's as it should be. It shows that the really notable stuff is inside.
On the back of the bookmark are photos of Nixon's birthplace, which is on the property, and of Nixon's Marine One, just a photo of it taking off from the White House (probably not on that historical day, since the grounds below don't look that crowded). The photo of the birthplace captures the feeling of it, too, history sitting right there, carefully maintained so that all that come to see it can know it authentically.
When I was at the souvenir store at the Library, I asked the guy at the register why the bookmarks were not listed on the website (I had bought bookmarks from the LBJ and Clinton libraries, first to fulfill my love of bookmarks, and as a kind of anticipation for the future). He told me that he had not taken photos of them yet so they could be listed on the website. I looked just now and they're still not on the website. Admittedly, there are parts of the Nixon Library that aren't well-managed, but they do what they can with what they have, and that's good enough for me. But I do want to buy at least two more bookmarks to keep being reminded of the time I spent at the Library, the fascination I felt that confirms the nut I am for presidential history, the book that's to come from all of this, and maybe more than one book.
If you've been in a place you've loved, why not gather together everything that could remind you of that pleasant time? That's how I do it.
I found the bookmarks. I found the blue leather ones with Nixon on it and a quote from him, and another with a panoramic photo of the entrance to the library. I bought two of each.
Now it's weeks since I went there, and enough time has passed, but reflection only came this morning when I finished reading "Apple Pie: An American Story" by John T. Edge, and decided to start reading "Here We Go Again: My Life in Television" by Betty White.
For the books by John T. Edge (I started with "Fried Chicken", and there's still the books to read on hamburgers and fries, and donuts), I decided to go with a metal bookmark I bought at Barnes & Noble in Burbank, listing "50 books to read before you die." I bought it not because it was another list and I like lists of all kinds, especially with books in them, but because I just liked having all those titles there. If I get to those books, then fine, but if not, well, it makes a great bookmark.
In my room, on my nightstand, I have a coffee mug from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University (back when I was thinking of taking classes online there, back when I thought I might go into a career at an airport, especially McCarran International in Las Vegas) that's filled with bookmarks. I have bookmarks from my local library, many favorites, including animals such as moose reading. Also in that coffee mug are the bookmarks from the Nixon Library. I haven't used the blue leather ones that much lately, but for the Betty White book, I decided to go with the one with that photo of the entrance.
I started reading "Here We Go Again", and I stopped after three pages to look at the bookmark. I wish I knew who took that photograph. I may e-mail the Library and ask. They should know, because there's no name credited on the bookmark. I would like to know what the photographer was thinking, when he or she thought would be the perfect moment to take it, what the intent was, what the higher-ups may have told the photographer what they expected from the photo to grace this bookmark. It fits so well. It captures exactly what I felt in entering this library.
It looks like a mid-afternoon shot. 3 p.m. or so, just about that time when the sun decides that it's probably time to go soon, so it begins to do less in preparation for going home. It's of the main building, which contains a vast tile floor, the entrance to the museum and to the East Room replica, and the souvenir store. You buy your tickets at a register at the souvenir store. Also in the photo on this bookmark is part of the fountain in the parking lot. That's about all that needs to be seen of it. It distinguishes the library somewhat, but it's not as notable as the one at the Reagan Library, and that's as it should be. It shows that the really notable stuff is inside.
On the back of the bookmark are photos of Nixon's birthplace, which is on the property, and of Nixon's Marine One, just a photo of it taking off from the White House (probably not on that historical day, since the grounds below don't look that crowded). The photo of the birthplace captures the feeling of it, too, history sitting right there, carefully maintained so that all that come to see it can know it authentically.
When I was at the souvenir store at the Library, I asked the guy at the register why the bookmarks were not listed on the website (I had bought bookmarks from the LBJ and Clinton libraries, first to fulfill my love of bookmarks, and as a kind of anticipation for the future). He told me that he had not taken photos of them yet so they could be listed on the website. I looked just now and they're still not on the website. Admittedly, there are parts of the Nixon Library that aren't well-managed, but they do what they can with what they have, and that's good enough for me. But I do want to buy at least two more bookmarks to keep being reminded of the time I spent at the Library, the fascination I felt that confirms the nut I am for presidential history, the book that's to come from all of this, and maybe more than one book.
If you've been in a place you've loved, why not gather together everything that could remind you of that pleasant time? That's how I do it.
Be a Rock Star on Mars
I hope Charlie Sheen makes people realize in some way that we can't put more quarters into this thing.
Live right now.
Live loud.
Live proud.
Live right now.
Live loud.
Live proud.
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