My grandfather spent all this life as a business man. He dropped out of 10th grade to support his disabled mother. For awhile, Granddad worked through a correspondence course to become an attorney. Then the Depression hit.
So though he never became a lawyer, he got a taste for self-education. He remained a voracious reader.
Most of his working life, he drove a pastry truck, and considered himself lucky to have the job. Eventually, he wound up in appliance sales at a big department store, where he worked until his death at 72.
Last week, I took a few days off to give a talk at a library conference in Jackson, Wyoming.
I decided to drive. The library had gotten a complaint about a multiple-CD book, and this would give me a chance to listen to it.
The name of the book was "Light in August," by William Faulkner. Somehow, I'd never gotten around to reading Faulkner before.
Suppose everything you know about libraries is wrong.
For instance, suppose we have way more than books. The books we do have aren't hidden spine-out on metal shelving. It's OK to carry around a cup of coffee or can of pop. (Yes, for those of you paying attention, we already made those changes!)
Now, suppose libraries don't need service desks. Suppose you don't have to look for staff to ask a question. We look for you.
For the past 2 weeks, I have been out of the country.
But the work of the library district goes on without the library director. In my absence, library staff managed a "migration." This is the complete replacement of one library computer system (Dynix) with another (Horizon).
The move wasn't entirely optional. Our old system was an orphan, no longer actively developed.