The Days & Nights of the Lipstick Librarian!

The Real Movers & Shakers

I have a confession to make: I don't read librarian blogs.

A shocking revelation, I know, but there is a reason: they remind me of the stuff I should be doing. I need to be blended, embedded, gaming or xtranormaled into an alternative universe teddy bear blankly outlining its student loan woes and job prospects to its own alt-universe self. It's bad enough I need all synapses firing at full throttle to keep up with Facebook interface changes, but learning Pat Benatar dance moves for a Rock Band 3/information literacy mashup? It's enough to make a digital initiatives librarian cry.

But I have found myself drawn to the dust up generated by a posting by someone using the nom de plume Annoyed Librarian over hip librarians and self-promotion. How I came across it is irrelevant (*cough*, vanity search, *cough*), but as someone who feels responsible for (or agonizes over at 3:00 am) the current loud-and-tattooed librarian meme, I wonder if some of us are allowing the frisson of the anti-stereotype to overshadow the reasons why they became librarians in the first place. But rather than throw virtual gasoline over the issue, I decided the best way to make my feelings known is to post my speech I gave to a graduating library program cohort a few years back.

So here goes (with a few edits for brevity, believe it or not):

AlternaCurrents

There is one aspiration in my library career I've yet to achieve: a blurb in American Libraries' "Currents" column. Despite job changes, geographic moves and an embarrassing incident during a FRBR Interest Group meeting, I have yet to see my name splashed across the page in serif font next to an uncomfortably close photo crop of me.

To compensate for what I can only assume is an accidental oversight, I've come up with a smattering of "Currents" announcements I'd like to see:

• Evelyne Johansen, Library Assistant 3 in Boulder (CO) is learning to deal with her lima bean issues.
• After thirty years of service as serials cataloger, Betty Jo Majors of Schenectady (NY) is irked by the handlebar moustache worn by that new library tech.
• In July Nathan Shellenberger, digital initiatives librarian in San Antonio (TX) noticed a coffee stain in the shape of the OCLC logo on his favorite knit tie.
• Jennifer Cuthbert, director of the learning commons for a community college in Fond du Lac (WI) has switched from low-fat mayonnaise to non-fat mayonnaise.
• Neva Takata, government documents librarian in Arcadia (CA) presented on her Google mashup of census data and multiple litter-box ownership.
• David Bragg retired as public services coordinator in Elko (NV) after being caught scrawling obscene bond initiatives in a branch restroom.
• Kristen Alana Jennings, children's librarian in Clearwater (FL) purchased her first pair of peep-toe heels.
• In September distance education librarian Madeline Hotchkiss of Missoula (MT) taught her cat how to handle chat reference questions.
• Georgiana Atkinson, head of technical services in Savannah (GA) premiered her art installation featuring a 3-D collage constructed of ALA vendor bags, stress balls and summer reading program t-shirts.
• Jonathan Flores, collection development librarian from Minot (ND) was last seen at an OCLC regional meeting stuffing complimentary bagels into his best pair of Dockers and running out the emergency exit. He is considered to have gone rogue.
• February 24 Peggy Luann Wells of Tumwater (WA) was asked by her fellow subject librarians to stop posting nasty reviews about them on ratemyprofessors.com.
• Shoshana Pierpont, monographic cataloger in Lafayette (LA) is on extended medical leave due to her insistence on populating local subject entry fields with RSS feeds from Cute Overload.
• In December Theodore Burroughs, county archivist in Fairfax (VA) purchased his first pair of peep-toe heels.

Tootin' My Own Horn Dept: For those of you not yet fed up with my shameless self-promotion, check-out my article on the ascendancy of the hipster librarian stereotype in Counterpunch.

Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good tweet.

Meet the New Whine...

Library Journal recently published its state of the state for librarian jobs and salaries. One of their findings? Recent library school grads believe one of the main impediments to finding professional positions are older librarians refusing to retire.

What a surprise. At least it seems that way for new grads and those contemplating library school. For me? It's the same old song, but with a different refrain. In my decades-long library career, one thing remains a constant:

It ain't easy finding a professional job.

It wasn't for me and chances are it won't be for you. My ego was slammed against a contiguous wall of rejection letters and ludicrously defined positions looking for a MLS. One of the jobs I applied for was in reallity a tarted-up receptionist position with the occasional records filing, something I was already doing when I wasn't part-time librarianing. The capper? It paid less than the two jobs I was then currently working. I did eventually land a professional job, but had to move to a remote part of Oregon for the opportunity of full-time library work.

As for that tsunami of retirements? I also heard that--in library school. Droves of librarians were supposedly waiting for the social security alarm to ring, signaling them to dump volumes of Readers Guide or AACR2 on the nearest tech's desk and march out the staff door. It didn't happen, but I never blamed them for not being able to find a decently-paying library position within a reasonable commuting distance. I had simply chosen a career that had far more degree holders than jobs--it was up to me to figure out how to find employment.

But now it seems recent grads' expectations about finding work includes a not-so-subtle (or diplomatic) view of older librarians as dimly sentient dinosaurs roaming the stacks, roaring at any suggestion they dirty their forelimbs by touching a keyboard, focusing instead on trampling upon the sensibilities of next-gen mammals who are praying for the meteor to hit. Too bad those mammals fail to realize many generations of these dinosaurs were the first adopters of technology, some good (machine readable records), some bad (microform).

The "Old Ones" (as one ALA 10 tweeter so waggishly tagged them) may be part of the problem, but in a much smaller way. Recession, technology and the public's misunderstanding of our mission are much bigger culprits. But it's hard to fix things that are amorphous (the economy) or seemingly intractable (library stereotypes) and much easier to blame those who don't seem to understand last call was announced years ago. My guess? Their penchant for wedge haircuts instead of tats as well as their lukewarm reception to pronouncements that real librarians should be wizzes at Captivate, Twitter and online gaming are just plain irritating to those with 2.0 proclivities.

I'd like to argue librarians with a few years (and countless pairs of Easy Spirit loafers) behind them are a significant part of the solution: they're the ones with the experience, political savvy and the guts to fight for our future. As surprising as it may seem, they do care about you finding a job. They want the profession to survive. And they do appreciate the skills you bring to the virtual table. They've been where you are now and are trying like holy heck to ensure LibraryLand will always be safe and sound by spearheading funding initiatives and spending countless hours of outreach to the Powers That Be and the public.

So be nice. Or at the very least, don't do something stupid, like publicly diss your forebearers. One day you may discover you're being interviewed by someone you virtually rolled your eyes at....

The Tired Librarian

At a time when the gold standard for edgy librarianess is announcing in clinical detail what lengths one will go to obtain an iPad on the social networking milieu of choice during an ALA conference, the message is clear:

I am officially behind the curve.

Because of the profound blow this realization delivered to my pop culture psyche, I vowed to come up to speed stat. So in the interests of full librarian stereotype disclosure, I bring you...

...my attempts at hip librarian street cred:

Day One: Spend valuable library instruction prep time searching Urban Dictionary for abbreviated NSFW words to craft provocative tweets. Due to inexperience, the tweets devolve into a miasma of confusing acronyms, resulting in my being elected ALCTS president.

Day Two: Decide to have the LL! name cutterized and tattooed as a tramp stamp. After being talked into having it translated into Chinese characters by the tattoo artist, I am later shocked to learn from a exchange program of drunk Chinese catalogers I have the phrase "incandescent cauliflower taunts cleanly" inked across my tailbone. Resolve to investigate why drunk catalogers from China merit their own exchange program.

Day Three: Tired of the Lipstick Librarian! nom de plume, plot to come up with a new one. Realizing the addition of a Anglo-Saxon epithet before the word "librarian" is soooo 2009, I come up with one that's part T.I., part ALA: Lil' Biblio.

Day Four: Refuse to work reference desk due to library administration's reluctance to let me answer all queries via auto-tune. Instead stand silently in front of patrons and respond by playing a repertoire of Lil' Jon videos

Day Five: Determined to be at the forefront of cutting edge footwear I don heels made out of real lobster claws at a public services retreat. After three steps, the left shoe collapses, necessitating a visit to the closest urgent care clinic. Library resist my attempts to claim the incident as a workman's comp issue.

Day Six: Undeterred by disastrous shoe wear attempt, begin stitching together a jumpsuit made of ALA tote bags and vendor foam stress balls, with fossilized mini-pastries swiped from a no-host roundtable breakfast as accents. Dismayed to learn underpaid library techs wage fight clubs for the right to nibble the pastries the week before pay day.

Day Seven: Attempt to release an unauthorized sex tape of myself. After registering with hundreds of dating sites and accruing fistfuls of restraining orders during the course of attempted videotapings, I accidentally upload a video of myself taking a disastrous leap during an ALA book cart drill team rehearsal. The library denies my efforts to bill them for doctor visits, stating "going viral" isn't a legitimate medical condition.

Day 7.5: The book cart drill team video becomes an internet meme, resulting in my scream auto-tuned and incorporated as the refrain in a hip-hop rendition of the mishap. Due to its monumental popularity, Library Journal pronounces me a Mover & Shaker for fifteen minutes.

Day 87: After several interventions, dozens of red velvet cupcakes and a week of missing time, I come to my senses. Judging from the Sephora and Etsy bills and the international arrest warrants, it's been quite a ride. Swearing never to adopt any trend younger than my last tweet I torch the evidence, except for the letter inviting me to join the drunk Chinese librarians on a tour of UK libraries....

When Vendor Tote Bags Collide....

Observations of ALA 2010 or what I now like to call Death March with ProQuest Popsicles. Sadly I don't have much to say other than the fact most of my time was sucked up by committee work and my struggles to locate Filene's despite Yelp's insistence it's sitting in the middle of the National Mall reflecting pool.

Washington DC Itself:

• There must be some ordinance mandating a minimum number of women carrying yoga mats per block. Sucking on a non-fat yogurt smoothie on the way to the closest yoga studio within a 20-foot radius? Completely optional.
• Stocking Q-Tips in a drug store is an outlandish idea, at least according to CVS employees at two different stores.
• Apparently the conference weather gods do not like expensive European cars parked in the middle of DuPont Circle.
• DC is a city of lanyards, ironic since ALA did not distribute them to attendees this year.
• The best portrait in the National Portrait Gallery? One that did not feature a dead white man.
• I am amazed at the ability of DC women to ride the subway wearing office attire (complete with pearls) and not break a sweat, even when juggling a yoga mat.

• Shocked by how many younger people are entering the profession. Librarianship seems to no longer be a second profession, though as someone whose most challenging pre-librarian job was squirting butterfat on Ann Rice's popcorn, I suspect a lot of us who've been working for a while never really had an initial profession in the first place.
• Code phrase of the conference: "Spectrum Scholar".
• My fascination with Elsevier vendors remains unabated. They're the Vladimir Putins of the library resource world: weirdly urbane and coolly assured, they're more than ready to crack walnuts with their glutes to demonstrate their superior electronic licensing technology.
• Sadly I was not accosted by the Emery-Pratt robot. I was however unnerved by the stampede of librarians jostling each other for free books after the exhibit opening. If biological viability is determined by the number of romance novels one is able to grab after out-vendor-bag-butting your competitors, I am so dead.
• In person, Jim Breuer looks just as stoned as he and everyone else says. Roy Blount, Jr. however, does not.
• Stephen Abram: doesn't that man ever sweat? Saw him in full-suited regalia heading towards a conference hotel in the midday heat. Must be taking tips from the DC women, though no yoga mat was to been seen on his personage.
• Best example of the marriage between books and nail art? Displayed ten minutes into Shannon Zachary's presentation on the Google scanning project and the future of print collections.
• My inability from a distance to distinguish between Walt Crawford and Marshall Breeding may have the unintended consequence of convincing M. Breeding that I'm stalking him at vendor receptions. For that I apologize and promise to wear my glasses instead of contacts at all future receptions. BTW--Walt has a new book out: But They Still Blog. If you're interested in library blogging past, present and future, you need to buy it. I do have a title suggestion for his next book: When the Legends Blog. But only if I'm the first chapter.

Death March With Trade Paperbacks*

On the eve of ALA in DC, Mme.Karen Schneider and Stephen "Always on the Lookout" Abram have posted their survival guides on getting through the upcoming gauntlet. As veterans of ALAs past, both of them have pretty much cover the bases.

But not all.

So without delay (or clue), here are my humble submissions as to What Not To Do at ALA10:

• Cramming the vendor business card fishbowls with actual goldfish makes it difficult for them to find you after you've won the iPad drawing.
• Layering clothing with sweaters and jackets is an excellent idea. Layering with blankets stolen from your hotel roommate's bed? Not so excellent.
• While making a necklace of origami cranes from conference evaluation forms is impressive, it's also distracting. Particularly if you're snatching forms from other attendees during the session Q & A.
• Spelling out your name in rhinestones on a platinum mouth grill is not an acceptable substitute for a name badge
• Resist the urge to stage hand sanitizer fights in the exhibit area targeting PLA members. They work with children, hence their take-no-prisoners aim when it comes to bacteria.
• Using those teeny spiral hoses for watering plants to squirt water into your mouth between sessions may bring about undue attention.
• Making advance appointments with vendors to discuss approval plans is being smart. Making advance appointments so you'll have a captive audience for the world premiere of your performance art involving sock puppets and tea bag wrappers gleaned from an Ebsco breakfast is just being crazy.
• Thinking of flash mobbing an executive session with a Lady Gaga medley? Remember: conference ribbons make excellent pasties.
• Staring at your iPhone while attending a unit open house makes you rude. Staring at a brick during an open house makes you a cataloger.
• And finally:leaving a tip for hotel housekeeping makes for a welcoming environment for the next library conference. Leaving a tip consisting of a coffee coaster lovingly crocheted with dental floss and twigs means no chocolates on the pillow for future ALA attendees....

Have fun everyone--

* With a tip of the glasses to Tim Goodman and The Bastard Machine.

Spamming the New Year

• As a public service to my fans (all three of you) for the new year, I decided to toss out some handy tips by which you may chose to employ at your own risk. Don't say I didn't warn you.

• Being the cinematic equivalent of a hot librarian is something to be cherished. At least as much as free Wi-Fi.

• But if you're the kind of hot librarian who has developed and distributed PowerPoint files concerning your hot-librarianness, your coworkers probably review this article after they've hit the delete button on your e-mails.

• Or maybe those coworkers tell you that you look like Denise Richards in glasses. Maybe that's not such a compliment.

• Christmas bills staring you in the face? Try developing a signature scent for the hipster market.

• Need an action-packed comic about early spring mulching? Talk to this librarian.

Finally: Take a cue from Gwendolyn Taylor-Davis, 2002 New York Times Librarian of the Year, who loves kickin' it old skool:

The Truth About Sex and Librarians

Everyone wants to have sex with a librarian.

Or it seems like everyone wants to flirt, date, sleep with, or just plain hit on librarians, even other librarians, apparently. Why the sudden interest in our profession as a potential booty call farm team? Maybe it's due to the fact that in the past few years, the stereotype has evolved an interesting wrinkle: the winsome lass with the ironically prim fashion sense and a brain--though truth be told, those hankering for this professional equivalent of a rainbow unicorn view the latter requirement as merely sprinkles on top of the hook-up cupcake.

But like your first kiss or a close inspection of a post-millennial cast member of a vampire movie series, the fantasy may be waaay better than the reality. For those unfamiliar with the possibly deflating reality, I present as a public service, the truth about dating librarians:

Fantasy #1: (500) Days of Delusion

Walking to the circulation desk, you spot a Zoe Deschanel lookalike with elbows propped against the counter, her Bonnie Bell Lip Smacker glossed lips framed by slim fingers as she reads Silas Marner before you. Your sudden presence startles her, causing her agate-blue irises to widen with surprise. She smiles knowingly into your eyes when she spots a copy of the latest Chuck Palahnuik novel tucked under your exquisitely tatted arm. Your mouth drops as she springs to attention, shyly pulling an adorable yellow cardigan with hand-crocheted rosettes across her chest and asks if you need help. In your hormonal confusion, you vaguely wonder at the fact that of all the people staffing the desk, she's the only one allowed to park her bike (girl's model with a wicker basket and felted handlebar steamers) right behind her. You manage to corral the words careening across your brain like psychotic ping-pong balls into a coherent sentence, one asking her to join you to a Spike Jonze video retrospective at the fixie-bike/punk knitting collective across the street. She blushes at your audaciousness then agrees, grabbing her bike and pushing it past book shelves and out the door, leaving staff and patrons with overdue notices wondering just what the heck is going on.

The Reality

After waiting 30 minutes in line because a patron up front demanded staffers wrap each book she checked out in Safeway grocery bags and wouldn't give up until the supervisor intervened, you reach the circulation desk. You lock eyes with a forty-something woman wearing a "I'm Bringing Reading Back!" t-shirt and earrings that look suspiciously like fish skeletons. As you hand over a stack of Terry Pratchett books, she holds a trade paperback up to her nose. "Wow," she murmurs, "these don't smell like cigarettes!" She stares at you quizzically, as if you were a sentient poodle, one that may have companionship potential or at least the ability to pay attention though a dinner at Olive Garden.

You are smitten. You stammer as she frantically waves the barcode scanner over the back of each book. Blushing, you reach for the stack and accidentally brush her hand, one chafed from years of wiping down story time playsets in the children's room. "Coffee?" Your mind reels with visions of the two of you indulging in intense discussions about the authenticity of Renaissance faires while sipping modestly-priced coffee drinks.

"WHAT??" Your one true love screams as she's moved on to waiving the scanner over a pile of Goosebumps books shoved in front of her by the annoyed woman standing next to you, the one staring daggers at the back of your uncombed head. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE BEEPING." You are startled since, quite frankly, the beeping from the scanner isn't all that loud. Her co-workers? They barely notice since she's been talking that way for years....

Next Time: Dating Male Librarians, or: "Are you going to finish that?"

Hawaii State Public Library Needs Your Aloha

The Hawaii State Public Library System is facing a tough situation: with the latest operating budget voted down, the System is now attempting to meet a budget reduction of 20% ($3.58 million according to HSPLS; $6 million according to the Honolulu Advertiser. To meet the new restrictions, HSPLS has frozen over 70 vacant positions and contemplating furlough days. To meet the challenge, HSPLS and the Friends of the Library of Hawaii have launched campaigns to meet the monetary challenge: "Keep Your Library Open!' and "Keep the Doors Open!". Both campaigns are looking for tax-deductible donations, with the Friends of the Library asking for as little as $3 from Hawaiian state residents, though I'm sure they wouldn't turn away outside contributions.

Why am I putting the word out when so many public libraries are facing similar crises? Because if there are closures, temporary or permanent, many residents may be forced to use branches hours away from their homes, such as the previous proposal to close the Hana branch, which would have meant a three-plus hour drive the the closest branch. The proposal was voted down, but temporary closures for the system still loom. And there are many small towns across the islands which may face the same situation.

So I'm asking all of you to give Hawaiian pubic libraries a big aloha by donating money today, even if it's $3. Think about it: that's the same price as a box of chocolate covered macadamia nuts from the ABC Stores and way cheaper than a jello shot from a Waikiki bar. And unlike the jello shot, you'll remember the donation long after your next Hawaiian vacation.

Shushing Alert Courtesy of New Times Broward-Palm Beach

The New Times Broward-Palm Beach gets massive eye-rolling from the LL for its "The Juice"
blog posting about librarians and layoffs. The snarkiness I don't mind, but did they have to use a beyond-tired stereotype pix of a frazzled-hair, shushing librarian to emphasize the point?

A New Superhero at ComicCon?

Spotted by Defamer at ComicCon:

clipped from gawker.com

Caption states she's a "real" librarian, but everyone knows a real librarian would tote back-up copies of the plush anime figure in the messenger bag, along with a fistful of freebie pens that will last for only one reference shift.

Can't We All Just Get Along?

When a librarian acts as crossing guard, people get upset.

When a library assistant tells patrons to keep it down, people get arrested.

When librarians plan a panel discussion on a potentially sensitive issue, people get upset. Real upset.

But when librarians are pressed into moving a library in the most inefficient way possible, they don't get upset. Or arrested: