B*tches in Bookshops - a Jay Z/Kanye West parody (La Shea Delaney and Annabelle Quezada)

One of my "jokes" during this self-isolating pandemic crisis is that I have been hoarding books the way others are toilet paper and hand sanitizer.  Not too far off target in that, in the weeks before the library closed (end of business day this past Thursday), I have managed to check out 25 books. Yikes, right?

I know I have plenty to read in addition, and that's not even counting the six boxes of TBRs stashed away from our move almost two years ago, surreptitiously covered by a Mexican blanket and masquerading as a table.  Ha!

However, I do miss that, despite the fact the app is still working and I can Hold request all I want, it will be *months* before I can stroll through the library doors and pick up any of those books. Much as I rely on that system, I also miss browsing the New Releases, running across titles of interest that just popped up on Goodreads or a friend's recommendation, and hastily snatching it up with a sigh of contentment.  Better even than retail therapy, and it's free!

A few months ago, I ran across an art exhibit at the Broward College/South Regional Library (my branch) of mosaics by Susan Nanna Casbarro.  All the pieces were stunning, but the one pictured above made my heart flutter.  I know I couldn't afford it and, even if I could, I have no available wall space anyway.  I'm just grateful to have snagged the image from her website to look at periodically and smile...  :-)

P.S.  Yes, during these troubled times, I am reading like a motherf*cker, and cracked myself up the other day by substituting an exquisitely-written and dense Italian family saga (which I was 20 pages into)... for NOS4A2 by Joe Hill, Stephen King's son.  A perfect escape, "unputdownable" as is the catch phrase these days.


SONG:  B*tches in Bookshops (a Jay Z/Kanye West parody) by La Shea Delaney and Annabelle Quezada

BOOK:  The Library by Susan Orlean

POEM(s):  If Librarians Were Honest by Joseph Mills 

“…a book indeed sometimes debauched me from my work…”
–Benjamin Franklin

If librarians were honest,
they wouldn’t smile, or act
welcoming. They would say,
You need to be careful. Here
be monsters. They would say,
These rooms house heathens
and heretics, murderers and
maniacs, the deluded, desperate,
and dissolute. They would say,
These books contain knowledge
of death, desire, and decay,
betrayal, blood, and more blood;
each is a Pandora’s box, so why
would you want to open one.
They would post danger
signs warning that contact
might result in mood swings,
severe changes in vision,
and mind-altering effects.

If librarians were honest
they would admit the stacks
can be more seductive and
shocking than porn. After all,
once you’ve seen a few
breasts, vaginas, and penises,
more is simply more,
a comforting banality,
but the shelves of a library
contain sensational novelties,
a scandalous, permissive mingling
of Malcolm X, Marx, Melville,
Merwin, Millay, Milton, Morrison,
and anyone can check them out,
taking them home or to some corner
where they can be debauched
and impregnated with ideas.

If librarians were honest,
they would say, No one
spends time here without being
changed. Maybe you should
go home. While you still can.


My First Memory (Of Librarians) by Nikki Giovanni

This is my first memory:
A big room with heavy wooden tables that sat on a creaky
     wood floor
A line of green shades—bankers’ lights—down the center
Heavy oak chairs that were too low or maybe I was simply
     too short
          For me to sit in and read
So my first book was always big

In the foyer up four steps a semi-circle desk presided
To the left side the card catalogue
On the right newspapers draped over what looked like
     a quilt rack
Magazines face out from the wall

The welcoming smile of my librarian
The anticipation in my heart
All those books — another world — just waiting

At my fingertips.

QUOTE:  "Information helps you to see that you're not alone. That there's somebody in Mississippi and somebody in Tokyo who all have wept, who've all longed and lost, who've all been happy. So the library helps you to see, not only that you are not alone, but that you're not really any different from everyone else." ~ Maya Angelou