I’ll admit it: I was out last week. Orlando, in fact. Why in the name of all that’s Disney was I in the middle of Florida other than it’s American’s Vacation Wonderland™ and home to every freakin’ chain restaurant that ever incorporated in the Western World? Visiting family, of course.
It was a good visit, not just because I managed to sit through Shrek’s 4-D Adventure Ride four times in one day. It was good because I resisted from doing what I normally do whenever I leave the confines of the Pacific Northwest: a busman’s holiday.
Like most of you, I am irretrievably drawn to touring libraries whilst on vacation. Big cities, little villages; you name it–I feel compelled to walk in and inspect every item I see, from electronic databases to teeniest of paper bookmarks. And I hate myself for wanting to do it. But the loathing doesn’t come from the suppressed sighs and eyerolling from family members as they trail me from reference area to reading room. It comes from the fact that no matter what library I visit, I’m vaguely disappointed.
I’m not sure why other than it’s a way too stereotypical an activity for me to indulge. Seriously; what other group of professionals do that? Do surgeons pop into unfamiliar hospitals in the hopes of chatting up on new hernia repair techniques? I don’t think so. Yet for most of us we are slaves to our predilection of tromping through strange stacks, book bags and umbrellas in hand, hoping to find subject guides we can crib from at a later date.
All I can say is look out Baltimore libraries–you’re next….
Movie Review of the Week Dept: I did do one other thing in Orlando: plunked down seven bucks to see 300. If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like if the Chippendales Dancers decided to wage war using only spears and shields, this is the movie to see. How they handled tipping etiquette in those days, I have no idea.