Growing Up Old in the Aughts

I have to admit that J.D. Salinger had fallen so completely off my radar screen that the announcement of his passing caught me by surprise. Mostly because I hadn’t realized the man was still alive and kicking. Not entirely surprising, since his last published work was in 1965… just over a decade before I was a glimmer in anyone’s eye. And the man has been a recluse ever since.

Like any good student of literature, I read Catcher in the Rye, but I don’t remember being especially impressed by it. At least not to the degree that others seemed to feel I should be.

It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel uneasy

Hello, friends. This year, my seasonal affective disorder is coming in the form of a persistent anxiety about the apolocalypse, a certain “things fall apart; the centre cannot hold” sorta something that plagues my evening couch-slouching time. Despite the pleas of the Wii Fit to just hop on and walk around a little, take a lukewarm bath, and brush my teeth, I seem frozen by the feeling that the lights are about to go out.

My choice of reading material of late is not helping. I was recently scared pantless by the New Yorker, of all things, by a post-apocalyptic short story called “Diary of an Interesting Year,” by Helen Simpson, aka “Bridget Jones Confronts End Times.”

For Your Needs: Practical Home Millinery–Edwardian Hat and Veil Pattern Making, Techniques and Construction

As some of you are aware, I have an abiding affection for Halloween. In pretty much all its incarnations. But one of my absolute favorites is the elaborate All Hallow’s Eve soireés hosted in the 1920s. I’ve longed to own a copy (any year) of the Dennison’s Bogie Book, which was the bible on all things crépe paper and black cat, and includes directions for entertainments, costumes, refreshments and décor accompanied by lavish illustrations. There are a decent number of originals in circulation since it was a catalog and many were produced, but even so the price was to dear for me.

Until today, when I discovered that there is a company republishing them! Not only are they reproducing the Bogie Books, but a plethora of other vintage ladies’ catalogs, how-to guides and such!

Want to learn to Marcel your hair?

Or how about whipping up a new dress in an hour?

Maybe a new hat?

Or perhaps you’re sewing your bridal trousseau?

A Return to Form

Oh my it’s been a long time since I’ve written here. I haven’t forgotten you, rather life got itself in the way. For a little while, there was nothing especially positive to share, and there’s enough negativity in this world without adding to the pool. But there were many lovely things too, and life has been full and busy with new friends, new music, new farm market finds, new books, new shoes…

It was actually a confluence of events that lead me to crack open ye old blog today. The first was a vow to be more creative in the coming year, despite the harried pace of life, and writing is definitely a part of that. The second was the arrival of a new pair of vegan shoes of a librarianly nature and some goodies from Sock Dreams. The third was the coming of age of a little blog I’ve been following into a full on site of fabulousness. We’ll get to that in a minute…

One of the many things that got in the way of my epistolary regularity was getting my feet wet in Library School. I began classes last winter and have been moving along at the glacial pace of one class at a time. Given that I’m still trying to swing full-time employment, this degree may take some time. Last quarter I took the required intro course on databases and information systems. Given my current job, it was a bit of a snooze fest until the last 2 weeks. However, it’s something I actually like doing and I’m re-evaluating the focus of my studies. I’m still interested in the archival field, but am considering approaching it from the technical end.

In an effort to feel like I wasn’t just treading water, I took on a volunteer position with the Urban Archives at Temple University. I’ve been getting dusty and breathing deeply of the ancient developer fumes every Friday. It’s been fascinating and I look forward to sharing some of what I come across.

So all of this is to say, I’m feeling back on an even keel and in the sharing mood. There are still murky waters swirling about, but they’ll sort themselves out in time. So getting on with the share, if you haven’t already checked out The Book Cover Archive, set aside plenty of time and indulge. It’s a treasure trove of incredible design work. For someone like me, who will admit without shame that I DO judge a book by its cover, it’s like the New Arrival shelf of the bookstore of my dreams :)

Just a blip in the ether

Well, it’s been a long time, but I had a magical run-in with word coinage today, and I wanted to share. I was at the Milwaukee airport and noticed this sign hanging over some couches just past security and thought it was hilarious. I also thought they were being totally serious, based on the font, but this article set me straight.

Busy Day in Space

While the legendary Hubble Space Telescope is receiving its final tune-up today, the European Space Agency (ESA) also launched the Hershel and Plank space observatories just a few hours ago from French Guiana in South America.  The space shuttle crew is installing a new camera abroad Hubble to allow it to see further into space and will presumably to bring more of the spectacular photos that the telescope has become world renown for.  It wasn’t an easy job for the astronauts either, and when they finally got the old camera loosened, they remarked “Woo-Hoo”

Hershel and Plank, similarly named for two great European scientists as Hubble is for a great American one, will also be capable of examining in greater detail the vastness of space. They are billed by the ESA as “two of the most sophisticated astronomical spacecraft ever built”, and indeed Hershel carries onboard the largest mirror ever launched into space.  The satellites have now begun a two month journey which will place them in a Lissajous orbit around the L2 Lagrangian point 1.5 million km “behind” earth from where they will carry out their missions.

I stink at blogging.

http://latenightlibrary.wordpress.com/do-you-kindle-if-you-had-359-would-you/

Librarians: can this be fixed?

But you don’t have to take my word for it…

To remain as always completely topical, I thought I’d talk about the One Book, One Philadelphia program now that I’ve totally missed it again this year. The idea is that everyone in the city reads and discusses this one book throughout the winter.

For 2009, the book is The Soloist by Steve Lopez, which is also the basis of a soon-to-be-released motion picture that is Jamie Foxx’s bid to win another Oscar in the handi-capable musician portrayal category. I was kind of wondering if the Free Library had taken some money from the filmmakers in order to promote the movie to the city, but the fact that the book is by former Inquirer columnist and local favorite Lopez probably explains why it was chosen.

Anyhow, once again I have not read the One Book book, which is seeming a little perverse of me. I didn’t even read last year’s selection, What is the What by Dave Eggers, and I subscribe to his tasteful and hipstery McSweeney’s quarterly. I just can’t be told to do anything, I guess. Except that we were discussing this the other night, and no one has read the One Book or ever witnessed any One Book discussions occurring city-wide.

And ye shall know them by the onion rings they eat

One of the categories of writing that I cherish both as a reader and an eater is restaurant reviews. Reviews come in two temperatures: glowing and scathing, and I lean towards liking the latter the best. So I was more than pleased to read Inquirer food critic Craig LaBan’s most recent review, a denouncement of an upscale chain steakhouse for decadence, crimes against the People, and using frozen foods.

It has been proven in scientific studies that print critics are 23% harsher and up to 64% crankier than their online brethren. I think the difference is that a print writer still has to stick to the style book and find gentlemanly ways to, say, call restaurant patrons whores

You’re just trying to escape from your yawning emotional hole into drunk

To roll belatedly with the theme of library confession, I recently ordered a selection of books that I wanted desperately but was too ashamed to openly buy in a store. One was about sex, one was by Douglas Adams, and one was Bridget Jones’s Diary, the book that infamously started the whole chick lit thing, which makes it shameful by association. Also I got the version with Renee Zellweger on the cover; I may have to white her out.