Today, April 15th, is, among other notable things, Library Workers Day. The name always reminds me of the seven dwarves going off to work in the mines. Yes, we're busy pick-axing out shards of knowledge for others.
To celebrate, we had a good spread of food at our library, always welcome. Fruit, cheese, crackers, chips with salsa, and cookies. (With chocolate, of course.) Yum yum.
I like the fiesta idea, and, being far away from the head branch, the lack of speechifying. We were invited to share humorous stories about library service, and had a few, but what really got us going were stories (funny) about "young people" thinking of us as positively elderly. A good time was had by all.
Well fortified, we went back to the mines ....
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Fake Folksonomies in the Fog
Today my local library system, not the one I work at, announced on its catalog site that the Visual Catalog will premier on April 7th, with searching available now (April 5th.) After trying it out, all I can say is please please please do not let this be a total replacement of the current catalog. The announcement doesn't make that clear.
The Visual Catalog (as opposed to what? there is no verbal catalog) is powered by AquaBrowser Library (registered trademark -- I have no idea how to do the little r in a circle.) I'm not sure where the name AquaBrowser comes from; it conjures up images of trying to read through swim goggles underwater. Or maybe watching a book sink into the water in the bathtub. AquaBrowser's website says that 80% of libraries in the Netherlands use its products; maybe an entire sinking country is the source for the name.
Ever ready to try a new catalog, I entered into the search box Laurie R. King, an author I like. There's no choice of author-title-subject in the search box. What pops up with that search is, on the left, a "Word Cloud;" in the center, a list of titles; and on the right, the "Refine" list, which, among other things, allows one to pick up, under authors, THE Laurie R. King.
Can you figure out what the list of titles is? It's every title that has, anywhere in the entry, either "laurie" or "r" or "king." This is not helpful. I'm being deprived here of the current choices in the catalog, where an "author" search is a keyword, and an "author browse" search is for a specific name. Here I can only get a keyword.
The "word cloud" is interesting. With Laurie R. King in faint gray type in the center, there are lines to spelling variations in orange (XR, VR, Lauria, Lourie;) translations in green (daar, d r (it's hard to tell if the space is there or not between the two letters,) and haar -- none of which seem to be translations of words in the central phrase; and then a large swarm of association words in black: in this case death, kong, court, son, martin, day, luther, prince, novel, queen, england, knight, tale, ruler, lion, evil, princess, richard. What's missing are any words relating to Ms. King's fictional characters: Mary Russell, Sherlock Holmes, Kate Martinelli. The association is simply to each word or initial in the search term, not the phrase as a whole. I had at first assumed that the the word cloud was a folksonomy, a collection of search terms collaboratively created by experts (librarians,) and creators and consumers of a text. Unfortunately, the fact that the words link only to individual words rather than to the phrase as a whole shows that the cloud is computer generated, rather than a folksonomy. Too bad. As it stands, it has neither librarian-generated subject headings (female detectives, England,) nor ones created by the public (say, Mary Russell.)
One can click on any of the words in the cloud to find the associated links. I clicked, just for the heck of it, on court, and got, as the number two title, The United States Supreme Court. So, the thought process is this: the searcher wants "king." Maybe the searcher would also like "court," because a king has a court. So let's show the searcher a book on the Supreme Court, because ..... All logical suggestions are welcome. In reality, then, the association is just another keyword search, without context (i.e, no relationship of court to king.) Or have I missed some recent news about the Supremes ? I admit I've been a tad happy lately, for no particular reason, and, as the saying goes, if you're happy, you're not paying attention.
So, I went to the refined list and clicked on author Laurie R. King. The resulting list of books by her is arranged by "found editions," according to the heading. That means that when two editions of a title come out in one year, there is only one listing, with a button to see both ("regular" and large print, for example.) For the life of me, however, I cannot figure out how the list of editions is arranged. It is not alpha by title. It is not chronological or reverse chronological. It is not by series (Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes, Kate Martinelli, stand-alones.) The very last title, on screen 2, is her most recent book, Touchstone, published in 2008. I have no idea if that "last published, last listed" approach is standard. If it's not standard, I shudder at the thought of clicking through page after page for some authors with even larger oeuvres, looking for their newest titles. (If I knew it, I could search by it. I hope.)
The news release on the library's catalog burbles that the visual catalog will be an "adventure comparable to browsing the shelves. ... [The] Visual Catalog is clearly designed with the library customer in mind." The motto for all this is provided by the vendor: Search, Discover, Refine.
I, personally, have never discovered any books on the Supreme Court next to the books on the court of King Arthur, nor in the mystery section next to Ms. King's books. Perhaps I have just been lucky. The associations in the word cloud conjure up for me not the shelves of a library, but the shelves in a thrift-store's book section. Indeed, they are fun to browse, but they aren't my first choice when I am looking for something specific, like the latest novel by an author. Or any info-shard. If I wanted to discover, I'd wander around the library, or the web.
As noted above, I don't want to be deprived of choices. I don't want to be forced into a keyword search, with the need to then further refine it. I want a list of books in reverse chronological order, so the newest is at the top. Surely I can't be the only customer who looks to the library for the newest in fiction?
Perhaps "customer" is the operational phrase here. I dislike it as a term for library patron, but many library systems (the one I work for included) are quite keen on. When I hear customer, I think of someone trying to sell me something. I do not think of someone who is always right. Does anyone, anymore? Nordstrom's (a department store) is idolized by many for its customer service. But it's considered so great, in part, because service in most stores is so abysmal. Is anyone really happy with the service they get in most places? Am I the only one that shudders when a business tells me that they are making changes for my benefit? Is there any reason my attitude should change because the Visual Catalog is shaped with customers in mind?
The outlook is cloudy indeed, if not just plain fogged over. I like the fog I see outside my office window all summer long; I'm significantly less keen on seeing it in a library catalog.
The Visual Catalog (as opposed to what? there is no verbal catalog) is powered by AquaBrowser Library (registered trademark -- I have no idea how to do the little r in a circle.) I'm not sure where the name AquaBrowser comes from; it conjures up images of trying to read through swim goggles underwater. Or maybe watching a book sink into the water in the bathtub. AquaBrowser's website says that 80% of libraries in the Netherlands use its products; maybe an entire sinking country is the source for the name.
Ever ready to try a new catalog, I entered into the search box Laurie R. King, an author I like. There's no choice of author-title-subject in the search box. What pops up with that search is, on the left, a "Word Cloud;" in the center, a list of titles; and on the right, the "Refine" list, which, among other things, allows one to pick up, under authors, THE Laurie R. King.
Can you figure out what the list of titles is? It's every title that has, anywhere in the entry, either "laurie" or "r" or "king." This is not helpful. I'm being deprived here of the current choices in the catalog, where an "author" search is a keyword, and an "author browse" search is for a specific name. Here I can only get a keyword.
The "word cloud" is interesting. With Laurie R. King in faint gray type in the center, there are lines to spelling variations in orange (XR, VR, Lauria, Lourie;) translations in green (daar, d r (it's hard to tell if the space is there or not between the two letters,) and haar -- none of which seem to be translations of words in the central phrase; and then a large swarm of association words in black: in this case death, kong, court, son, martin, day, luther, prince, novel, queen, england, knight, tale, ruler, lion, evil, princess, richard. What's missing are any words relating to Ms. King's fictional characters: Mary Russell, Sherlock Holmes, Kate Martinelli. The association is simply to each word or initial in the search term, not the phrase as a whole. I had at first assumed that the the word cloud was a folksonomy, a collection of search terms collaboratively created by experts (librarians,) and creators and consumers of a text. Unfortunately, the fact that the words link only to individual words rather than to the phrase as a whole shows that the cloud is computer generated, rather than a folksonomy. Too bad. As it stands, it has neither librarian-generated subject headings (female detectives, England,) nor ones created by the public (say, Mary Russell.)
One can click on any of the words in the cloud to find the associated links. I clicked, just for the heck of it, on court, and got, as the number two title, The United States Supreme Court. So, the thought process is this: the searcher wants "king." Maybe the searcher would also like "court," because a king has a court. So let's show the searcher a book on the Supreme Court, because ..... All logical suggestions are welcome. In reality, then, the association is just another keyword search, without context (i.e, no relationship of court to king.) Or have I missed some recent news about the Supremes ? I admit I've been a tad happy lately, for no particular reason, and, as the saying goes, if you're happy, you're not paying attention.
So, I went to the refined list and clicked on author Laurie R. King. The resulting list of books by her is arranged by "found editions," according to the heading. That means that when two editions of a title come out in one year, there is only one listing, with a button to see both ("regular" and large print, for example.) For the life of me, however, I cannot figure out how the list of editions is arranged. It is not alpha by title. It is not chronological or reverse chronological. It is not by series (Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes, Kate Martinelli, stand-alones.) The very last title, on screen 2, is her most recent book, Touchstone, published in 2008. I have no idea if that "last published, last listed" approach is standard. If it's not standard, I shudder at the thought of clicking through page after page for some authors with even larger oeuvres, looking for their newest titles. (If I knew it, I could search by it. I hope.)
The news release on the library's catalog burbles that the visual catalog will be an "adventure comparable to browsing the shelves. ... [The] Visual Catalog is clearly designed with the library customer in mind." The motto for all this is provided by the vendor: Search, Discover, Refine.
I, personally, have never discovered any books on the Supreme Court next to the books on the court of King Arthur, nor in the mystery section next to Ms. King's books. Perhaps I have just been lucky. The associations in the word cloud conjure up for me not the shelves of a library, but the shelves in a thrift-store's book section. Indeed, they are fun to browse, but they aren't my first choice when I am looking for something specific, like the latest novel by an author. Or any info-shard. If I wanted to discover, I'd wander around the library, or the web.
As noted above, I don't want to be deprived of choices. I don't want to be forced into a keyword search, with the need to then further refine it. I want a list of books in reverse chronological order, so the newest is at the top. Surely I can't be the only customer who looks to the library for the newest in fiction?
Perhaps "customer" is the operational phrase here. I dislike it as a term for library patron, but many library systems (the one I work for included) are quite keen on. When I hear customer, I think of someone trying to sell me something. I do not think of someone who is always right. Does anyone, anymore? Nordstrom's (a department store) is idolized by many for its customer service. But it's considered so great, in part, because service in most stores is so abysmal. Is anyone really happy with the service they get in most places? Am I the only one that shudders when a business tells me that they are making changes for my benefit? Is there any reason my attitude should change because the Visual Catalog is shaped with customers in mind?
The outlook is cloudy indeed, if not just plain fogged over. I like the fog I see outside my office window all summer long; I'm significantly less keen on seeing it in a library catalog.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
April is the Cruelest Month
April is National Poetry Month, the fiesta that, perhaps, is the source for T.S. Eliot's opening to The Waste Land (and the title of this post.) For an updated version of that line, go to http://www.poetryfoundation.org/, click on gallery, click on view archive, and go to the Roz Chast cartoon from a 1994 New Yorker. Then celebrate National Poetry Month by looking at all of the other cartoons -- the one with the cat looking in the mirror is particularly funny. Your culture-vulture merit badge will arrive in the mail.
Every couple of years I celebrate by sending out a poem (not by me) to friends, who, to prove they are friends, remain so despite having to at least look at a poem (not necessarily to read it) once a year. This year I thought I would spare them all the terror of receiving a piece of mail from me by posting links to some poems I like. No need to tactfully avert one's eyes from lines/stanzas/who knows what else. Just don't click on the connections.
So, here are some poems, with the occasional note.
The Highwayman, by Alfred Noyes. My mother used to read this to us, very melodramatically.
Concord Hymn, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. I remember this from elementary school.
Shield of Achilles, by W.H. Auden. I liked this in high school.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/ Click on reading guides for both a poem and commentary. I like "Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden, "My Last Duchess" by Robert Browning, and "Not Waving but Drowning" by Stevie Smith.
Booker T and W.E.B, by Dudley Randall. I discovered this today. Happy National Poetry Month to me!
Child on top of a Greenhouse and My Papa's Waltz, both by Theodore Roethke.
The Revenant by Billy Collins. He was the keynote speaker at the California Library Association's conference in, I think 2007 or 2006, and read this poem among others. I particularly like the last two lines.
Deathfugue, by Paul Celan; translator John Felstiner. Extremely dark; extraordinarily moving. Felstiner's translation is magnificent. I've read other translations, which pale by comparison with his.
Every couple of years I celebrate by sending out a poem (not by me) to friends, who, to prove they are friends, remain so despite having to at least look at a poem (not necessarily to read it) once a year. This year I thought I would spare them all the terror of receiving a piece of mail from me by posting links to some poems I like. No need to tactfully avert one's eyes from lines/stanzas/who knows what else. Just don't click on the connections.
So, here are some poems, with the occasional note.
The Highwayman, by Alfred Noyes. My mother used to read this to us, very melodramatically.
Concord Hymn, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. I remember this from elementary school.
Shield of Achilles, by W.H. Auden. I liked this in high school.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/ Click on reading guides for both a poem and commentary. I like "Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden, "My Last Duchess" by Robert Browning, and "Not Waving but Drowning" by Stevie Smith.
Booker T and W.E.B, by Dudley Randall. I discovered this today. Happy National Poetry Month to me!
Child on top of a Greenhouse and My Papa's Waltz, both by Theodore Roethke.
The Revenant by Billy Collins. He was the keynote speaker at the California Library Association's conference in, I think 2007 or 2006, and read this poem among others. I particularly like the last two lines.
Deathfugue, by Paul Celan; translator John Felstiner. Extremely dark; extraordinarily moving. Felstiner's translation is magnificent. I've read other translations, which pale by comparison with his.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Who creates those surveys, anyway?
I just finished the California Public Libraries Survey that my local library system had on its website. This is a state-wide survey, as evident from both the title and the list of geographical areas available in a drop-down menu at the "where is the library you go to " question.
Based on a couple of questions, including the last one, (had I heard of some named online live reference site -- the name escapes me and I can't get back into the survey,) its main aim seems to be to determine an interest in 24/7 online reference access.
Given that interest, you would think it might include a question asking if web access is available in the home, but no, it didn't. In fact, one question assumed you had internet access in your home. I think the surveyors missed a chance to get some information on home-based web access, by geographical area, age, and income, all info asked for by the survey.
The question that seriously annoyed me, however, had to do with what type of material one uses when one visits the library. It had a lengthy list, including fiction, non-fiction, magazines/newspapers/articles, and various specific categories of non-fiction, plus ebooks and electronic databases. So far, so good. However, the respondent could only choose one. What? The surveyors apparently think that persons going to a library go only for one purpose -- no mixing picking up the latest mystery and looking for consumer info. (Which, in any event, was not a category.)
Hence my question: who writes those surveys?
I answered the question on types of materials used by choosing "other," which had a box into which one could enter something, so I entered "why can't I choose more than one thing? Now the surveyors know who writes those answers.
Based on a couple of questions, including the last one, (had I heard of some named online live reference site -- the name escapes me and I can't get back into the survey,) its main aim seems to be to determine an interest in 24/7 online reference access.
Given that interest, you would think it might include a question asking if web access is available in the home, but no, it didn't. In fact, one question assumed you had internet access in your home. I think the surveyors missed a chance to get some information on home-based web access, by geographical area, age, and income, all info asked for by the survey.
The question that seriously annoyed me, however, had to do with what type of material one uses when one visits the library. It had a lengthy list, including fiction, non-fiction, magazines/newspapers/articles, and various specific categories of non-fiction, plus ebooks and electronic databases. So far, so good. However, the respondent could only choose one. What? The surveyors apparently think that persons going to a library go only for one purpose -- no mixing picking up the latest mystery and looking for consumer info. (Which, in any event, was not a category.)
Hence my question: who writes those surveys?
I answered the question on types of materials used by choosing "other," which had a box into which one could enter something, so I entered "why can't I choose more than one thing? Now the surveyors know who writes those answers.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Mutterings, Witterings, and Random Thoughts (oh my)
Today's (March 24) San Francisco Chronicle has an article in the Technology and Business Section titled "The Best Affordable Cars," with the subtitle "A few quality components make these autos the ones for budget shoppers to get." The prices for the four featured cars were $16,375, $21,200, $26,325, and $30,000. Ok, the first one is a low price these days, but just what budget do the buyers of a $30K car have?
Are super delegates at the Democratic convention a retro touch? As far as I can figure out, they are a throwback to the smoke-filled rooms of past conventions, when primary votes didn't count for anything. Super delegates can apparently vote for anyone, regardless of how their state or congressional district voted. Ok, I'm willing to let Bill Clinton, a super delegate because he's a past Democratic president, vote for Hillary: NY voted for her anyway, I think, but even if it hadn't, what's the point of having a husband if he won't vote for you in the convention. But otherwise I'm not keen on super delegates.
I recently succumbed to an offer in the mail of a subscription to Time magazine for a period about a century or so, for only $20. I regretted it about a week later when I got a similar offer from Newsweek, which I preferred to Time the last time I read either. Then I really regretted it when I got my first issue. It's a mixture of CNN's homepage and People magazine. I'm too lazy to cancel, so I'll put up with it, but I am certainly not going to renew, should I happen to outlive the subscription period. I already subscribe to The Economist for real news, so I can't complain too much.
And speaking of The Economist, it's a great example of technology: the issue I receive on Friday can include articles and cover stories on events that happened on Tuesday or Wednesday of the same week. Of course, that timeliness can be enticing to others: the first issue after Hurricane Katrina hit was delayed in delivery about three weeks, which I attribute to those in the delivery chain taking time to read it.
The title of this post is an amalgam of Larie R. King's use of "mutterings" and the use of "wittering" (maybe only as a verb, however) in Bridget Jones' Diary.
Are super delegates at the Democratic convention a retro touch? As far as I can figure out, they are a throwback to the smoke-filled rooms of past conventions, when primary votes didn't count for anything. Super delegates can apparently vote for anyone, regardless of how their state or congressional district voted. Ok, I'm willing to let Bill Clinton, a super delegate because he's a past Democratic president, vote for Hillary: NY voted for her anyway, I think, but even if it hadn't, what's the point of having a husband if he won't vote for you in the convention. But otherwise I'm not keen on super delegates.
I recently succumbed to an offer in the mail of a subscription to Time magazine for a period about a century or so, for only $20. I regretted it about a week later when I got a similar offer from Newsweek, which I preferred to Time the last time I read either. Then I really regretted it when I got my first issue. It's a mixture of CNN's homepage and People magazine. I'm too lazy to cancel, so I'll put up with it, but I am certainly not going to renew, should I happen to outlive the subscription period. I already subscribe to The Economist for real news, so I can't complain too much.
And speaking of The Economist, it's a great example of technology: the issue I receive on Friday can include articles and cover stories on events that happened on Tuesday or Wednesday of the same week. Of course, that timeliness can be enticing to others: the first issue after Hurricane Katrina hit was delayed in delivery about three weeks, which I attribute to those in the delivery chain taking time to read it.
The title of this post is an amalgam of Larie R. King's use of "mutterings" and the use of "wittering" (maybe only as a verb, however) in Bridget Jones' Diary.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Sam Gamgee and vivisection
Noodling around in some library catalogs, I came across an entry for:
Gamgee, Sampson. The Influence of Vivisection on Human Surgery. 2nd ed., 1882. (No publication information provided.)
Is this a descendant of Samwise Gamgee, Frodo's valiant companion in The Lord of the Rings? Wikipedia has an article about Sampson Gamgee, with his father mentioned, but nothing further. Let's hope someone investigates further ....
Wikipedia also has an interesting article about Samwise, and a letter Tolkien received from someone of that name, who might have been a relative of Sampson.
Gamgee, Sampson. The Influence of Vivisection on Human Surgery. 2nd ed., 1882. (No publication information provided.)
Is this a descendant of Samwise Gamgee, Frodo's valiant companion in The Lord of the Rings? Wikipedia has an article about Sampson Gamgee, with his father mentioned, but nothing further. Let's hope someone investigates further ....
Wikipedia also has an interesting article about Samwise, and a letter Tolkien received from someone of that name, who might have been a relative of Sampson.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
I Should Have my Head Examined
The title of this post is what my mother, of blessed memory, would say when she had done something foolish. It ran through my head this morning as I sat in my car in the supermarket parking lot, debating whether to get out and go into the store, or to just turn the car back on and go home. The reason? Today, Sunday, February 3rd, is the day of that televised sports extravaganza that:
1. Is the cause of about 5% of the annual avocado sales in the US;
2. According to urban legend (probably untrue) causes municipal water levels to fall during the commercials and half-time show as most of the US population flushes toilets during bathroom visits.
3. Is the basis for numerous media reports/studies before game day of the commercials to be aired and those previously-aired during this annual show, and of post-game day analyses of the ones seen;
4. Is so protected by its team of lawyers that I wouldn't dream of using its trademarked/copyrighted/whatever-it-is name in this post, for fear of finding not heavy-duty linebackers at my door as legal enforcers, but the even-more-to-feared said lawyer team.
So, why was I so indecisive in the parking lot? Well, it's also true that the said extravaganza produces a lot of what I think of as amateur shoppers at the grocery store prior to the kick-off, not to mention truly scary drivers racing to get home in time for said kick-off.
I hadn't planned to go, but I fell into auto-pilot. My typical Sunday morning starts with coffe and the newspaper at a nearby outlet of the fast-food chain whose coffee was rated higher by a national consumer magazine (which also doesn't like its name used in connection with its ratings) than the coffee at the number one barista chain in the entire universe. Then I go to the 99 cents store to start my grocery shopping --- a bag of six bananas for 99 cents! two quarts of milk in recylable plastic for 99 cents each (that's a half gallon for $1.98!) a bag of small carrots for 99 cents! I love that store.
Then I move on to a chain grocery for other stuff. And that's what I was doing there, despite the fact that I had carefully looked in the paper to see what time the kick-off was (at the mysteriously exact time of 3:17,) with the idea of going shopping later. But auto pilot won out, and there I was at about 10am.
The parking lot was jammed. I finally decided to go in, rather than go home. I managed to grab one of the few carts available (that's par for the course a lot of times on Sunday --- said national-chain store doesn't do a good job of having carts available) and headed in. And, indeed, the place was chock-full of gentlemen, singly or in pairs, loading up on what I hope were supplies for their sports extravaganza parties, because otherwise there are a lot of them who subsist on chips, salsa, and beer, all eaten off of paper plates. (The good news: they use a lot of napkins, too.)
Really, it wasn't too bad. The worst part is ongoing: the store was remodeled about a year ago, as part of a "life-style enhancement" or something like that. That seems to consist of an olive bar and a branch of the afore-mentioned barista chain in the store. One result of the remodeling is that three aisles are a lot narrower, and have support posts further blocking them in addition to the usual cardboard displays. Those aisles are always inconvenient, but put a lot of people in them (as this morning,) and they're grim. It's the only grocery for about two miles in any direction, so I keep going there, but I grumble every time.
Today, thought, I got in and out in a reasonable amount of time, given all the guys wandering around. As inexperienced shoppers, they lack the basic foraging skills more regular shoppers know: salsa? Try condiment aisle, or potatoe chip aisle. (Salsas are in both.) I will admit that paper plates are tough: this store, for some reason, puts them across from the soup cans. No one was buying frozen pizzas as far as I could tell, and I carefully avoided the beer/wine aisles.
The whole experience reminded me of a photo in a book I recently gave my sister as a present. Titled Porn for Women, it lacked nude/scantily-clad guys in suggestive poses, but, instead, consisted of photos of good-looking, fully-clad guys doing things to make any woman's heart rate go up. (The cover shows one vacuuming.) The one I was reminded of was a photo of a guy reading a newspaper, and saying, with a genuine smile on his face, "Honey, the play-offs are today. We should have NO trouble parking at the crafts fair." Be still, my heart.
1. Is the cause of about 5% of the annual avocado sales in the US;
2. According to urban legend (probably untrue) causes municipal water levels to fall during the commercials and half-time show as most of the US population flushes toilets during bathroom visits.
3. Is the basis for numerous media reports/studies before game day of the commercials to be aired and those previously-aired during this annual show, and of post-game day analyses of the ones seen;
4. Is so protected by its team of lawyers that I wouldn't dream of using its trademarked/copyrighted/whatever-it-is name in this post, for fear of finding not heavy-duty linebackers at my door as legal enforcers, but the even-more-to-feared said lawyer team.
So, why was I so indecisive in the parking lot? Well, it's also true that the said extravaganza produces a lot of what I think of as amateur shoppers at the grocery store prior to the kick-off, not to mention truly scary drivers racing to get home in time for said kick-off.
I hadn't planned to go, but I fell into auto-pilot. My typical Sunday morning starts with coffe and the newspaper at a nearby outlet of the fast-food chain whose coffee was rated higher by a national consumer magazine (which also doesn't like its name used in connection with its ratings) than the coffee at the number one barista chain in the entire universe. Then I go to the 99 cents store to start my grocery shopping --- a bag of six bananas for 99 cents! two quarts of milk in recylable plastic for 99 cents each (that's a half gallon for $1.98!) a bag of small carrots for 99 cents! I love that store.
Then I move on to a chain grocery for other stuff. And that's what I was doing there, despite the fact that I had carefully looked in the paper to see what time the kick-off was (at the mysteriously exact time of 3:17,) with the idea of going shopping later. But auto pilot won out, and there I was at about 10am.
The parking lot was jammed. I finally decided to go in, rather than go home. I managed to grab one of the few carts available (that's par for the course a lot of times on Sunday --- said national-chain store doesn't do a good job of having carts available) and headed in. And, indeed, the place was chock-full of gentlemen, singly or in pairs, loading up on what I hope were supplies for their sports extravaganza parties, because otherwise there are a lot of them who subsist on chips, salsa, and beer, all eaten off of paper plates. (The good news: they use a lot of napkins, too.)
Really, it wasn't too bad. The worst part is ongoing: the store was remodeled about a year ago, as part of a "life-style enhancement" or something like that. That seems to consist of an olive bar and a branch of the afore-mentioned barista chain in the store. One result of the remodeling is that three aisles are a lot narrower, and have support posts further blocking them in addition to the usual cardboard displays. Those aisles are always inconvenient, but put a lot of people in them (as this morning,) and they're grim. It's the only grocery for about two miles in any direction, so I keep going there, but I grumble every time.
Today, thought, I got in and out in a reasonable amount of time, given all the guys wandering around. As inexperienced shoppers, they lack the basic foraging skills more regular shoppers know: salsa? Try condiment aisle, or potatoe chip aisle. (Salsas are in both.) I will admit that paper plates are tough: this store, for some reason, puts them across from the soup cans. No one was buying frozen pizzas as far as I could tell, and I carefully avoided the beer/wine aisles.
The whole experience reminded me of a photo in a book I recently gave my sister as a present. Titled Porn for Women, it lacked nude/scantily-clad guys in suggestive poses, but, instead, consisted of photos of good-looking, fully-clad guys doing things to make any woman's heart rate go up. (The cover shows one vacuuming.) The one I was reminded of was a photo of a guy reading a newspaper, and saying, with a genuine smile on his face, "Honey, the play-offs are today. We should have NO trouble parking at the crafts fair." Be still, my heart.
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