When I was young and foolish and hitchhiking my way around the southwest, I found an easy way to pick up some cash. I would go to a university, and sign up as an art model.

Yes, dear reader, your local librarian once took off his clothes for money. Back then, I did an hour or so of yoga every day and walked everywhere. I was in very good shape. Times, alas, have changed.

Last weekend I attended the Castle Rock Players' production of Rodgers and Hammerstein's "The King and I," held at the Douglas County High School.

It's an impressive show on many levels. The sumptuous costumes, the elegant sets, the stunning voices, the charming and subtle choreography all speak to the expertise ushered in by Director Carol Petitmaire, Musical Director Ken Street, Technical Director Tom Pelo, Dance Captain Jessica Vogan, and many others.

I guess it was about two score years ago now. A fellow named Walter LaRue, from Springfield, IL, was visiting Mountainburg, Arkansas. He was in quest of genealogical information.

He came strolling up the hill to one Margret Trentham LaRue (wife of Christopher Columbus LaRue, mother of Jesse James LaRue). She looked at him and said, "I've never seen you before in my life, but I can tell by your ears you're a LaRue." (Many LaRues do indeed have outsize ears. The better to hear you with, my dear.)

I talk with a lot of librarians around the country, and I've concluded that there are four levels or tiers of library connections to the community.

The first, and most basic, happens when someone opens the library doors. There is a building. People work there. The library has a collection of books, magazines, videos, CD's, and, these days, Internet terminals. There are meeting rooms and study areas.