Various and Sundry Words

It would appear that I do not blog often because the outside world is so very engaging, and I am super popular with the real humans. I will let this stand as the reason I only blog every 3 months or so. Well, that and the fact that after dark, I fight crime in disguise, so I'm really VERY busy. (I always thought that there was ONE thing phony about Superman. Faster than a speeding bullet? Sure. More powerful than a locomotive? Absolutely. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? If you're wearing a cup, go for it. Able to change into tights in a telephone booth? No way in hell, buddy. That one's impossible. I can't do it in an 8' X 12' room.)

I had a library patron singing to me the other day. Loudly. Not to see if I could identify the song, or the artist, which would have been a relatively normal occurrence. Nope. The subject of the book he was looking for was a word in the song. So he sang it to me. I'm sure in another context, having a man sing to you is delightful. However, when surrounded by tables of obviously harried students who came to the library for the silence, not so much. I did manage to get him to stop, fortunately. I'm guessing that his level of talent wouldn't earn him much as a busker outside the library, so perhaps that's why he changed venues. It wouldn't have earned him anything INSIDE the library, except perhaps a chemistry textbook upside the head, although if he had continued, I might have given him money to go to another floor. (When in doubt, bribe.)

We had a guy awhile ago watching rap videos on the internet. He was really into them. REALLY into them. Hand pumping in the air and everything. I'll have to see if we have a sign that says "THANK YOU for not ROCKING OUT in the Library". He left peacefully though. No East-Coast/West-Coast settling of scores or anything, so that was nice.

We have had an influx of "Just-Out-Of-Curiousity" people lately. These are people, who having nothing better to do, come up with questions to ask "just out of curiousity". These questions are usually good for at least 20 minutes of research, if not more. Often these questions are merely to substantiate something that they've already read. Something that already answered their question really, really well. REALLY REALLY. It's a little easier once they become regulars and you can see them coming. There does, however, seem to be a mad scramble as these customers approach the desk and the staff attempt not to be seen. We need one of those big, yellow airplane slides outside of the window for times like those. GO! GO! GO! LEAVE HER, SHE'S TOO SLOW! (I'm not one of those "Nobody left behind" type of do-gooders. Nor am I going to apologize, so there.)

Today's Word - Impasse

Impasse (im'pas im pas') n. 1. a position or situation from which there is no escape; deadlock 2. a road or way that has no outlet; cul-de-sac [1850-1855; < F, equiv. to im- + -passe, s. of passer to PASS] --Syn. 1. stalemate, standstill, standoff, dead end.

Ah, the impasse. The nemesis of all who work in libraries, and a favorite pastime of those who manage to slip through the loopholes in natural selection. (And we all know how many of THOSE there are... Unfortunately, the weakest aren't always culled from the herd.) Sample telephone call from yesterday: Customer: "Hello, I am looking for a book about (insert random contemporary artist here)

Stack Ferret: "Sure, let me just check our catalog to see what we have... It doesn't appear that we have anything about him here, let me just check to see what's available elsewhere." (Check Amazon and Google) "I'm sorry, there doesn't seem to be a reference to a book about him anywhere. Do you know for certain that there is a book about him?"

Customer: Well, he has over 160 paintings on his website!

Stack Ferret: (banging head on desk, and thinking to self) "Yes, but can he WRITE? Maybe he should have stopped painting long enough to JOT A FEW THINGS DOWN, perhaps in BOOK FORM. Having a website of your art doesn't make you an artist. There are monkeys who paint, and they have websites too. Are all his paintings of CATS? Or his TOES? Perhaps he doesn't warrant a book. Maybe those trees should be allowed to LIVE.

Enter the IMPASSE. The odds of finding a book that doesn't exist, as we all know, are quite slim.


So I suggested that he contact the artist through the website to inquire if there is actually a book available. Maybe it's a non-existant book. Perhaps it's a non-existant book about a non-existant painting. That crosses into philosophy, which is on the ground floor, and not even my problem.

I was in an ancient cathedral once, and the stone steps were worn in the middle from hundreds of years of feet going over them. The spot on my desk where I bang my head is starting to look much the same.