Tag Archives: Public library

Champagne

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The first boy I ever dated was a mistake. We met in the summer of our sophomore year.  And it was not even at school.  It so happened that he and I were separately joining the Red Cross as Youth Volunteers.  Sometimes, I admit this with shame and reluctance, but I was planning on being a doctor, and therefore, I was planning, this particular summer, my Curriculum Vitae for the review of the Schools of Medicine, starting with a great start at the Red Cross.

So, as the last school term was ending in June, I saw on the bulletin boards, the opportunity to join a Youth Committee that would involve itself in the business of the Red Cross.  I already held a job at the Public Library, as a Page, but, this volunteer position would be the first job I held that would require my performance to guarantee my position on the Committee for the following year.  This was an impressive leap for me. Where, my talents were really not required in any other job, being a part of a group of people who had to define their jobs to have a job to do, was something I saw as rewarding talent.  I was sure that I could do this job.

Now, the issue of my first boyfriend.  He had the same reasons for joining as I did.  We were the youngest in the group of people who became the first Volunteer Youth  Committee Members.  The others were also a mix of men and women, who were, also, in school, but they were mostly studying sciences at university.

We met as an official Committee once a month on Sunday.  I had to get up early, to go to a closed and locked office, and sit for an hour-and-a-half listening and joining debates on our activity and the justification of this activity.  In the winter, which was only part of my tenure for one season, we tended to not do any fund-raising work, but we concentrated our work, but we concentrated our work with the other youth volunteers, who worked during the weekends at the malls, to register blood donors and usher these people through the experience.  This was as close to an official job that I could get.  So, for the first summer, during the meetings, and our planned fund-raisers, I was busy.

My boyfriend and I met at the second official meeting.  It was the second meeting for me, but it was the first time he showed up.  We both rode our bicycles into the tiny parking lot, and, since this was before people thought of cyclists, we both rode up to the steel stair railing where we both intended to lock our bikes.  As I did not even make notice of him, he casually asked, if he could lock his bike with mine, as he forgot his lock.  Of course, since this was before the time I suspected criminals to be young and devious, I whole-heartedly agreed.  And, so, we locked our bikes together and went into the meeting.

Now, this was not how we actually became involved with each other.  We went home our separate ways at the end of the meeting.  We were not savvy enough to talk each other into dating.  And this leads me to the mistake.  About one week later, after this initial introduction, a physical confirmation of age and sex, I received a phone call.  It was the boy with the bike, and he had asked to lock it with mine.  Could he ask me on a date?

I was pleasantly surprised, and, not exactly smart enough to know that there was something illegal happening.  At leasst, not until the next meeting.  It seems, this boy called me, and several other girls who were affiliated with the Red Cross, as Youth, in different capacities.  He was able to call, in the first place, because he was able to “scam” the Receptionist into giving him the list with phone numbers.  The other girls were savvy enough and complained to the management at the office, and got an immediate response, which included a reprimand, of my first boyfriend, who was a mistake.

It was also a lucky summer and year serving at the Red Cross, as this boyfriend and I ended up dating for two years, and he ended up taking me to Prom.  This is a happy story, and, even though I like to think of myself as someone who is savvy, I really was not that lucky in dating.  I have been on more dates than is “legal” or advisable.  Now, though, I carry this experience with  me.  I carry it, because it is light and I feel grateful for being able to be part of people’s lives.  I sometimes look at this particular situation as “the one” that started it all.  I do, in this way, cherish him more than I cherish the others, as they were time and experience, again, beyond knowing what to do.  So, even though he is “technically” a “mistake,” he was probably the most real of my boyfriends.

We have no more contact with each other, and I have no more contact with any of the ones I did date.  And, as experience is, these dates become examples of life happening.  The more time there is between me now and me at a very young age, keeps increasing, and also, as time keeps increasing, I mention and look to these experiences even less.  I have become less obsessed with having lived that life!

So, I toast my glass to that life and drink champagne to enjoy the life that I have.  Cheers!

Library Books

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One year, when I was working for the winter in the Public Library, due to my contract there, I travelled to one of their central branches–the storied branches that held more than the usual books on more than the usual topics.  I noticed, quite early on in the contract, that there was a little room run by volunteers (little old ladies with white hair and light blue smocks on) where books that had been withdrawn from circulation and donated books, were being sold at the incredibly cheap prices of $1, $2 and $5.  Even, now, with inflation, these are cheap prices.  The books were not necessarily current, and they had never been on the bestseller list, but there was appeal in their timelessness, and anyone studying on any topic could probably get a very good start in understanding it–much more than taking the introductory 101  could, at the local university.

So, one afternoon, as I was finishing up for the day, I decided to see what this little room was all about.  When I say little, I mean, very small and cramped.  All it was missing was the musty smell and the dim lighting famous in many university libraries.  The two little old ladies were by the door where there was a desk and a little money box. They did not pry, as, I guess, they were not librarians.  So, I disregarded them after a smile, and proceeded to look at the shelves to see what this room was about.  Not the Dewey Decimal System.  (I was relieved.  I would have walked out without any interest lost.)  The shelves were labelled with English words (and not universal numbers) that described broadly what the subject of the books were. There was an entire book case where each shelf on it was reserved for several of the more languages in the city.  I can’t read anything other than English, so I skipped it entirely.

Even though the room was small, three walls were filled plus two long rows down the middle.  Some books were old and breaking, almost beyond repair, and I guess people looking for a gem, even if it were slightly damaged, would pay the $1 or $2 for it.  There was also a good collection of children’s books.  I did look through it, at the time, because I already had a niece, but I didn’t happen to find anything.  There were two shelves reserved for random movies, and because I am not overly interested in this genre of entertainment, I gave the most cursory glance and moved on.

I got to the bottom shelf on the bookcase against the back wall, and I gasped in delight.  It was filled with large books of photographs on various topics.  My experience with large books of photographs, even if the photographs were not taken by famous photographers, is that they are very expensive.  Many a time I have spent over one hundred dollars on any of a number of impressive books.  And, the hobby of photography is incredibly expensive, even now, in today’s world when you don’t have to rent space at a local darkroom to get the photograph you want developed.

So here, I felt as if had found the fount of gold, and the river just kept flowing out with the gold.  Even just glancing at the shelf I could see several books I was interested in.  My limitation, today, was the weight of the books, as, at the time, I had taken transit to the library (it was in the central part of the city.)  I knew that they would not be so nice as to hold on to the books I bought, and that whatever I bought today, I would have to take with me… even if I bought ten.  So, I began to calculate, in my head, the best way to solve this problem of space and muscle and strength.  In the end, I settled on three very large books, with photographs on every single page in between the covers.  They must weigh at least twenty pounds each.  The way I decided to let go of any of the others?  Easy, I chose every single book on the country.  One, about the United States, one about Canada, and one about the mid-West.  The pictures were priceless, and I only paid $5 for each book.  I find that when I go to the commercial book stores, the photography and art books appeal to the greater public and that the topics are therefore very broad and have no subjects that would involve any great and deep understanding of politics, color theory, history, or a foreign point of view.  All that is needed is the ability  to see and understand beauty.  So, now, armed with this new theory as to the type of photographers and the domain covered by certain books and experts, I found beauty in the books that day.  I still have these three books today.  They communicate, more, than what words alone can.  My favorite from the three books is in the catalogue of the mid-west.  The picture is of a winter evening on a small hill looking downwards to the small valley, and the rise beyond where the setting sun sits in command of it all.  The evening coats the thin layer of snow in a regal, purple-lish glow, and the bench in the foreground in relief as almost only a shadow.

I am quite content with my purchases, considering that they are not the usual fare.  I find the older I get, the more I value the things I couldn’t understand before.   I value what it is that others have and what others are.  So, to this July’s celebration of the incorporation of the country, grow older happier and richer in experience!