Male Librarian

I hope everybody has read  this article  about David Byrne's forays with PowerPoint. It's completely genius. "PowerPoint is evil" was actually my own mantra for years. I totally refused to work with it throughout my first year of library school, choosing instead to work from notes when presenting papers or projects. Eyes focused on me rather than on dumbed-down points and concepts. It seemed more casual and engaging. Eventually, however, I had to give in to PowerPoint's omnipotence. Whether I was forced into it by mandate of a professor or through the dynamics of group project, I can't remember. But it happened. And suddenly I had my hands on a tool that allowed me to create a presentation from thin air. Magic! With all the busy work and deadlines of an MLIS degree, I became a willing love-slave to my new master. Although I love this article, I don't necessarily agree with the basic premise of PowerPoint's critics. The idea that PowerPoint is a d

So, I got my tattoo during the latest Vegas trip. Here are some pictures -- click on them for larger versions. As mentioned, the most painful aspect of the tattoo was having the outline drawn (left side). Once it was time for coloring however, the process was a breeze. I think tattoos are best left to the imagination of the viewer. When people ask me what my other tattoo "means," I'm always at a loss for words. They want a quick answer, but I can never find the words to summarize everything a tattoo means to me. It reminds me of having spent time abroad and then trying to respond to the question, "So how was it?" The original artwork for this tattoo was created in block print form by the Japanese artist Masami Teraoka. Much of his work is about the intermingling of the East and West. This particular piece is called "31 Flavors Invading Japan." I love his work more than perhaps any other visual artist I can think of.

It's finally happened. My eyes have turned bloodshot as a result of these never-ending home renovations. Literally -- as in, I just looked in the mirror and saw two agitated, angry, red eyes looking back at me. They seemed to be pleading, "When is this ever going to end?" To their credit, the landscaping contractors have finally started showing up for more than an hour a day. In the last two days, they've worked full time and the two yards are now chock full of grey boulders and new desert plantlife. They even repaired the water main they broke the other day and once again I have -- glory be -- enough water pressure to wash both my body and the dishes that accumulate from day to day for lack of a dishwasher. (The dishwasher is stored temporarily in the garage awaiting completion of the terrazzo flooring in the kitchen; there is likewise no running water in the kitchen at present.) Yes, part of my mid-renovation routine now is washing dishes while butt naked. The toile

I dreamed last night that I had been left alone at a Las Vegas casino with scant little to occupy myself. I had a remaining day and a half before my flight returned home. To keep myself busy and make a little money in the process, I decided to open a business right inside the casino. I decided from the start that my customer base would be elderly women. I set about starting the new business by pasting flyers on each of the hotel's room doors. Old women started calling me and soon enough I had three customers lined up immediately. I met my with my patrons one on one, presenting them a question-and-answer sheet of my own making. Based on their answers, I would personally craft a metal plaque that would in turn be presented to their husbands for their achievements (for both Vegas and life in general). The questions were: Name _____ Occupation ________ Time in Vegas _________ Winnings _______ Military Honors ____________ Favorite Chinese Dish _________ The last question was always very

Knowing full well that  Geek Chic  will be the "in" look for 2004, TIL bought this for me at the Star Trek Experience in Vegas. Thanks TIL, you rock baby! As for where I'm going to wear this, I'm thinking: - to the next Society of American Archivists meeting in Tucson? - at a friend's [unintentional and unaware] white trash wedding? - on my next trip to visit extended family in Redding "Redneck" California? - to my next dotcom job interview (after the bubble re-inflates)? - in a totally cheesy photo for my Blog... Yeah, that's it!

I arrived at work hungover; this is nothing new really but it managed to set the tone for the day. Sleepy and nauseous, I soon came into contact with the what was -- so far -- the busiest day of the year. Like clockwork, all the snowbirds from Canada and Washington state have swooped down upon this small desert town in a collective, yearly effort to avoid the frigid chill of the North. One of my patrons was a well-mannered man from India who I will call "Mr. Lentil." Mr. Lentil carried with him a platinum briefcase -- contained within were a number of papers and DVDs. After introducing himself as a notable Bollywood film producer, he suggested in a roundabout way that I "might just be" what he was looking for. He explained that he was in need of a blonde lead -- the inability to speak Hindi would not pose any problems, and that airfare and accomodations would be paid in full. I agreed to the assignment and signed the relevant paperwork immediately. That was about se

Sweet! My Yahoo now supports RSS feeds. How cool is that? I used to use My Yahoo simply as a patriotic act, back in the day, when they were my employer. Now I have a real reason to utilize that feature. Everything really does come full circle, doesn't it?

Yet another quiet work day here. At risk of being dubbed a sci-fi geek (which I am), I'd like to state here that switching to Open Access Internet terminals has resulted in a sort of post-atomic winter at our library, with a heaping helping of quiet and not a lot of activity. (Except for printing, that is; and it appears even this duty may be shifted to our circulation desk in the near future.) But like I've said before, I'm not one to complain about a lack of buzz. Aye, Captain. We've scanned the area but there isn't a living being for miles around. There are exciting things happening at work these days. Yesterday I was able to place the library's 25-year old newspaper indexing project on the Web -- something I have been trying to accomplish since arriving here over a year ago. TIL has graciously integrated the programming into our library's website and soft-launched it. We're keeping it a secret for now and will do a big unveiling for administratio

National Freak & Misfit Day It is obviously National Freak & Misfit Day judging from the patrons that have been taking up residence in the Reference area today. That much is sure. In a way, it sort of reminds me of the so-called cantina scene from Star Wars. Remember that? I'm generally one cool dude in terms of remaining level-headed. I'm friendly, too. But I must admit that during my one and a half year stint as a librarian, I have not always been saintly. I have had three indiscretions. It has been eight weeks since my last blog confession. Father forgive me, for I have sinned. The first of these instances took place at (no surprise here) a copy machine. A lunatic woman (who has a track record of sorts at this libary) marched in and began yelling for help with the copy machine. (Yes, we all know how hard making copies is.) When the conversation degraded to her shrieking, "You work here and don't know how to use this?" I told her to go get help elsewhere

I broke from my usual Southeast Asian/Korean/Japanese food leanings and prepared a hot bowl of Dal Soup with Tomato yesterday -- it turned out gorgeously. Not realizing how much I missed that cuisine, I made a mental note myself to make it more often. (One of these days I'll get adventurous and make samosas, too. Samosas are definitely one my most favorite foods on this planet.) A second dish I was preparing (bitter melon curry) was a complete failure. I knew something was wrong when I was asked to "squeeze out the excess water after salting the melon pieces." When I tried that, no liquid issued forth. The taste of the curry was awful, but fortunately it didn't matter since I had (successfully) prepared the dal dish in tandem. I have had nightmares the last two nights -- the upshot to not being able to sleep however has been the ability to get up 5am and get all sorts of housework done. Mornings are also my favorite time of the day; everything is so damn peaceful, coo

Ever hear something so perfectly stated that it seems almost distilled and crystalline in character? So perfectly uttered in every way that it causes you to howl in agreement? Alone at home yesterday, I slipped in my pirate DVD version of Flower Drum Song and watched my favorite guilty pleasure while utterly mesmerized... mesmerized that I had the time, solitude, and privacy to view one of the world's most politically incorrect, culturally insensitive, and terribly tacky musicals of all time. How guilty and giddy I felt simultaneously! I love Flower Drum Song -- the original screen version, that is. Not the corny "new" version without all the corny references to Chinese food. Not the one without all the fabulous costumes dreamt up in some white person's Oriental Fantasy Land. No, I prefer the original in all is trashy glory. So there, I said it and I'll say it again.  I love Flower Drum Song. It is my favorite musical stage show of all time. Anyway, back to the st

I dreamt last night I was in London en route to the United States. But for whatever reason there were no direct flights, so I forced to catch a connecting flight in the former Soviet republic of Georgia before heading back home. The airplane I was on was huge -- along the same scale as those massive floating cities run by Carnival Cruises. There were dozens of entertainment areas aboard the flight so I was kept fairly occupied until I arrived in Tbilisi. I remember areas with bars (of course -- this was my dream, after all) and water slides. Entering the airport, I was shocked and amazed to discover how clean and modern it was. (It felt like a dream scene from Brave New World.) Oddly though, there was no passport control area. Instead, I was whisked directly into a modern gym where I lined up with my gym bag, anxiously looking forward to working out in the swankiest exercise joint I'd ever seen. While in line, I took in the view of about a hundred men. All of them wore white. W