But I'm Not Really Sorry I Didn't Write About Thanksgiving

I was going to write a post about everything I am grateful for, but then I got frustrated and decided that I really can't write one honestly right now. Sorry. I know this is the antithesis of the meaning of today. However, I will regale you with what ran through my head at 2 a.m. this morning when I couldn't sleep.

I think that a lot of people have the perception that I am fun and silly and I don't really think deeply about things. For example, I don't post my political or religious views on Facebook nor do I talk about major news items during the course the day. This may give people the impression that I don't think about these things: I do. I just choose not to announce it.

The way I see it: there's a lot of sad and angry going on in the world at any one time. Many times, I deal with sadness at work. For example, last year, when the shootings happened at Sandy Hook, my office was a steady stream of people, mostly adults, looking for a cup of coffee and words of comfort as they tried to make meaning of something tragic. As a librarian, people think you have the answers to everything. I really don't, but I can listen and make a mean cup o' joe.

So, if I refuse to participate in debates about gun control, Obama, the war on Christmas, etc., it's not because I don't think about them. I am just choosing not to focus my energy on it. I am choosing to focus my energy on trying to be silly.

So after I was finished thinking about that, I decided to focus my mental energy on my irrational fears. As Stephen King wrote in Danse Macabre, it is easier to fear the fictional 50 foot bug that might be behind the door as opposed to dealing with the realistic fear of nuclear war. Because of this, dear reader, I was awake last night thinking about Robert the Doll. Because worrying about Robert the Doll hitch-hiking from Key West to Rochester to chew my hair is a much better fear than a school shooter.

Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer

Last night, I ended up watching the Rankin -Bass  classic "Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer." I have made some observations:

1. This is not my particular observation, but I think it is probably the best I've heard: Not many people know that Burl Ives wasn't always a snow man. He converted right before this special was made. (Credit goes to my husband for this comment.)

2. The Island of Misfit Toys: Some of the toys aren't really all that bad off--they are just a little awkward. For example, the elephant has polka dots. So what? The doll doesn't apparently have any issues, although, according to Wikipedia, she may be depressed. However, a theory was posed last night that she may excessively flatulent, thus being deserted on the island.

Some of the other toys may have issues, like the bird that likes to swim or the train with square wheels. I understand how they may be labeled misfits. Having said that, my husband said the Island of Misfit Toys should be renamed the Island of Awesome Toys because the bird who likes to swim was pretty cool.

3. Everyone is a jerk, including Santa. You know, for a guy who's supposed to be generous, Santa comes off as a big jerk in this special, lambasting Rudolph for his nose. It's only when Santa realizes that the nose may have an advantage that he's nice to Rudolph. Otherwise, Santa acts like Rudolph is a burden to him.

Rudolph's dad has unrealistic expectations for his son. He reminded me of Herbie Popnecker's dad, who constantly refers to his son as a "little fat nothing" even though his kid is constantly bailing him out.

4. My favorite character in the special is the little poodle who pushes Yukon Cornelius' sled. That poodle just rocks!

5. Herbie the Dentist Elf: This past weekend, my friend, Amy, and I went to the Shops on West Ridge, which is one of my favorite places to shop. We are both frightened and obsessed with Robert the Doll, so any old doll freaks us out. There are quite a few antique dolls at the Shops. As our shopping trip wore on, Amy came up with the idea that antique dolls will sneak into one's bedroom at night and chew one's hair. So when we came upon a locked case of antique dolls, we said, "Hair eaters!" and avoided the case. I think that we were pretty sure one was going to follow Amy home to chew her hair, as her hair is longer than mine. But then I realized that Amy lives across the river and everyone knows that evil dolls, much like vampires, can't cross water. So there, evil dolls!

Anyway, let's bring it back to Rudolph: Herbie the Dentist Elf fixes doll teeth. This made me realize that if he fixes doll teeth, the dolls have a better chance of chewing one's hair. And if the dolls are really good at chewing one's hair, then Herbie the Dentist Elf is an accomplice to pure evil! Of course, I texted Amy this thought and she heartily agrees.

In conclusion, I bet you didn't think I could read so much into this Christmas special, did you?

Him She Loves?!

When I was a tween, M.E. Kerr was one of my favorite writers. I loved Fell and Dinky Hocker Shoots Smack! This is why I was disappointed when I pulled the above book from our collection. While Kerr's other books circulate, this one hasn't.

I think because if one judges this book by its cover, one would assume that it is not about real people, but those creepy mannequins at the Old Navy.

Also, as was pointed out by a coworker, it appears as if the girl mannequin is driving a table. Also, it appears that they are driving this table in the middle of the ocean or a lake or some other large body of water.

Maybe this really isn't a work of realistic fiction: maybe it's a future earth covered with water because the polar ice caps melted.* The future is ruled by the creepy Old Navy mannequins who somehow because sentient and capable of love. They are driving their table on the ocean as part of a romantic date because this book is really a dystopian underwater mannequin romance.

There. I just invented a new genre. Watch out, publishing world!

* Yes, I realize I am borrowing from Kevin Costner's Waterworld.

Update!

Hi, all,

I know I've been quiet for the past week or so because I was away for work. I thought I would re-enter the blogosphere with updates on book cover conversations and "adult themes" as of late.

1. Adult themes: As you may remember from an earlier post, we had the roof replaced on our house. It is an "adult theme," as it was an expensive and angst-ridden process for me. Currently, the same contractor is replacing the ceiling in the room where the roof leaked. All the furniture and my crafting supplies are in the living room. Every time I travel the small path through the living room, Tom Petty sings in my brain,"You don't have to live like a refugee".

Anyhow, as my friend Amy pointed out yesterday, home improvement is a lot like Johnny's mom in Johnny Dangerously. There's always something else going wrong that you have to fix or replace. ("Kim, it's your house's insulation: it has shrunk so much, it's not doing its job. We need to replace it.").

2. Book covers: As I was cleaning out stuff from the craft room, I came across this book:

I didn't say that all my reading was intellectually-driven. Sometimes, I 'm content with the literary equivalent of a bag of potato chips.

Immediately, I thought the cover model of After Glow looked familiar:

This made me realize that Rick Springfield is a popular cover model. Why is this?

Upon reflecting on other "judging books by their covers" posts, I thought of this again:

 

I think I have to take back my comment about the Gremlin. I think Mary is holding the first Furby on the prairie. The manner in which the other young women are fawning over it indicated to me that this book is about the first Furby craze that swept the country in the 1800s.

Also, I need to apologize about my first blog post about Little Town on the Prairie. My friend, Amie, pointed out that Mary is blind and that Williams is depicting her blindness. She is not possessed, as I had hoped, as I thought it would be a far better story. Therefore, the moral of the story is that I'm a big jerk.

So, in a nutshell, this was my past week. I'm back to blogging daily now, my friends.

Judging Books By Their Covers

Sometimes, I don't need to add commentary to rather unfortunate book covers. They just...are.

Alien Secrets by Annette Curtis Klause is a book for teens. It might be the best book ever written, but none of my students (or myself) will read it. I don't think it ever circulated in the 15 years it was in the library. Having said that, I do love the look of joy on this alien's face:

Coping with Date Rape and Acquaintance Rape is outdated; this is why it made the discard pile. We have better resources on the topic.

I really am put off by the fact that all young men are portrayed as "the devil". When really puts this cover over the edge, though, is the devil's tail. Just...wow.

FYI--I am out of town next week and will update as I can.

Seven Things You Probably Didn't Know (and Probably Don't Care) About Me:

Hello, Dear Reader:

I'm sorry I didn't post yesterday. I was dealing with an "adult theme", i.e. getting a roof put on our house and didn't have the energy to write.

Lately, there's been this thing going around on Facebook where someone gives you a number and you are supposed to post a list of stuff that people don't know about you. I figured I would double-dip and post seven things about me on my blog and then link that to my Facebook feed. So here are Seven Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me:

1. I have 13 tattoos. There is nothing significant about the number 13--it's just the current number of tattoos. One of these tattoos is a full back tattoo. The owl tattoo on my arm is not from Harry Potter, despite what most people think. It is actually the cover of Rush's "Fly By Night" album.

2. My two favorite books of all time are Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger and American Gods by Neil Gaiman.

3. I have a cross stitch blog: spinkystitches.tumblr.com
You can see a cross stitch I designed of the band Rush on this blog.

4. My favorite season is autumn.

5. I am an introvert.

6.  I love being a school librarian. I do something different every day. My students are awesome!

7. I have Yes' "I've Seen All Good People" stuck in my head for three days now. I like my husband's appraisal of the song: it sounds like an exercise one had to practice typing for keyboarding class:

"I've seen all good people turn their heads each day, so satisfied, I'm on my way."

I agree with him.

First Snow, or Why I'll Never Be a Boy Scout

 

As I was driving in to work today, I thought about why I will never be a Boy Scout.

First off, I'm a woman in her 30s, so there are a few strikes right there.

Second, I'm never prepared, as was evidenced by me running around like a maniac at 6:30 this morning.

Yesterday evening, as I was cozied up on the couch crocheting, I watched the weather. The local weather man said there would be snow. I thought, "How cute." I didn't realize the implications of "snow".

Fast forward 10 hours: I am out in the street, wearing my newly crocheted hat, trying to chip ice off my windshield with a stick. Yes, with a stick. You know why? Because I can't find the snow brush. Where do the snowbrushes go in the summer? Anyway, I can tell you why no one has marketed a stick as the ultimate car de-icer: sticks suck. This is after I beat the hell out of the driver side to door to get into my car because the handle mechanism was frozen. And I beat the door and scraped the car with a stick without the benefit of gloves because I did not believe in this "snow" last night when I was sitting on the couch. Therefore, I didn't bother getting gloves together.

After 20 minutes, I admit defeat, get my husband's keys and use the snowbrush from his car. My car has finally defrosted and I leave for work...only to be caught in the construction on Lake Ave., which I should have considered after being caught in it last week.

I finally arrive to work late. And it's all my fault because I refused to get off the couch and get ready for winter.

Now that we've had the first snow of the year, I will not be so foolish. I plan on going home and thoroughly going through my garage for my snow brush. I also plan on going through my sock drawer for a pair of gloves. Winter has taught me its first cruel lesson.

My Life's Mission; or, Another Post about Bugs

This is my post where I chronicle my ongoing battle with house centipedes.

Mind you, this is not a battle I've chosen; rather, it is a destiny chosen for me, as I do not fear bugs.

At one point, I had a cat named The Bum. He used to capture house centipedes and pull their legs off, watching them squirm around. It was sort of "Reservoir Dogs" of him, I thought. One day, when I wasn't home, a particularly large house centipede ran across the living room floor, totally skeeving out my roommate, Amy. According to Amy, The Bum pounced on it and gobbled up the house centipede in one gulp. I think she was equally impressed and grossed out by The Bum. However, he was The Brave Slayer of House Centipedes until he passed away four years ago.

The Bum thought House Centipedes were delicious.

This past summer, I moved a dishcloth out of the kitchen sink. A house centipede crawled out from underneath the dishcloth. My child took one look and ran screaming from the room. My husband backed away nervously and said, "I'll let you take care of this."

So, I squished it and threw it out.

Once in awhile, house centipedes make an appearance in the library. Last year, a student ran out of the bathroom to tell me about a "large, prehistoric bug" that was on the wall. I ended up going into the bathroom, knocking the house centipede off the wall and flushing it down the toilet. There was applause from the group of students who had gathered to watch me battle the house centipede.

I believe that I was chosen by some greater power to keep sanity in a world that can potentially be taken over by these beasts. I will take up the charge and keep my people safe.

"I challenge you!"

Where the ducks go in the winter; or What the Duck?

So, if you are friends with me on Facebook, you may be wondering about my post on Halloween about the ducks in our library. Our library has two duck decoys; one of which I let a student borrow as part of her Halloween costume as Holden Caulfield. This is the story behind the ducks:

A few years ago, part of the senior prank at the school where I work was to put duck and goose decoys on one of the athletic fields. After the prank was over and the decoys were cleaned up, one went unclaimed. After sitting for months in the main office, I adopted him and brought him to the library.

The duck and me. Note the happy face behind us. It was truly a symbol of our brief friendship.

The duck and I were only together for a few days. One of the parents of the seniors came back to claim him.

My friend, Lora, knew of my sadness. For Christmas that year, she gave me a pair of duck decoys. These are the ducks that currently live in our library.

Lurlene McDaniel is this duck's favorite author. What can I say? He is really into tragic teen romance.

The ducks find themselves around the library in different places. The female is currently roosting in the cupboard where I keep the coffee, just to keep teachers on their toes.

Hi, there.

I let the student who went as Holden Caulfield bring the duck home so that she could show her piano teacher her costume. The next morning, she relayed the following anecdote: the student left the duck in her mom's car overnight, as she didn't want to forget to return the duck. Her father didn't know about the duck decoy; when he went into the garage in the early morning, he was upset that there was a duck in his wife's car. Everything was cool once the student the duck was not real.

The Cockroach of The County

American cockroach. Photo from Wikipedia--not of actual roach at polling place.

After a meeting last night, my son and I stopped at our polling place to vote. Rather, I stopped to vote and my son had to go with me because he is eight.

When we walked into the School 42 gym (the place where we vote), the election inspectors were in a tizzy. There was a cockroach on the wall. Mind you, this was not just a cockroach. It was freakin' HUGE! This sucker had to be at least three to four inches long and very fat. Of course, my son and I had to walk up to it and look at it because it was so big. I then got my ballot and proceeded to vote.

Meanwhile, the roach caused hysteria.

One of the poll workers jumped up, grabbed her purse and screamed, "Oh, Lordy! It's gonna fly into my purse! I just know it is! And then I'm gonna end up bringing that sucker home!"

I tried to concentrate on my ballot. At one point, I turned around to watch the action. One of the election inspectors had the school janitor hitting the roach with a broom. "Oh, Lordy! He's going free! He's going free!," the poll worker screamed.

The janitor hit the cockroach behind some mats by the stage in the gym. The election inspectors gathered by the mats, watching, what I assumed, was the roach's demise. I say "assumed" because we didn't stick around to see what happened.

Of course, on the way home, my head was itchy because I kept thinking about the roach and became paranoid that it was crawling on me. I was totally skeeved out.

As on every Election Day, my husband stayed up late to watch the returns. I didn't stay up. I was sure of the verdict: the Giant Cockroach of 42 School was going to win ALL the elections--mayor, sheriff, judge, school board, etc. Otherwise, why would it be trying to sway the vote on Election Day?

Afterword: If the roach was indeed trying to sway the vote, it would have been doing something illegal. One cannot campaign within a certain distance of a polling place.

The Ghost of John Oates, or Totally Judging a Book By Its Cover

Last week, local author Vivian Vande Velde visited our library. I told her how I "totally judge books by their covers" on my blog, as part of her talk to the students is about how authors don't get to choose their illustrations or cover art.

And then she gave me permission to judge one of her books by the cover:

According to Vivian's website, A Coming Evil is about "During the German occupation of France in 1940, 13-year-old Lisette meets a ghost while living with her aunt who harbors Jewish and Gypsy children in the French countryside." (If you visit the link for the book, you will see the new cover).

I would have never guessed that by the cover art.

First off, "Lisette" on the cover art looks older than 13. She also looks like an amalgamation of various photos cut out of fashion magazines from the 1980s. 

Her legs and feet are weirdly contorted, as the hand on the ground. Why is she awkwardly picking a flower? What are those yellow flowers in the forest?

According to Vivian, the beret appears to be cut out of red construction paper. Maybe the illustrator couldn't find a red beret in the issues of Seventeen he/she was cutting up?

What really gets me is the ghost. Vivian points out that the ghost is that of a young teen boy. Not in this illustration:

The ghost dude has a 'stache...and a mullet. Did tween boy ghosts have mullets during WWII? 

Also, it appears the ghost's head isn't completely on his body. When I asked Vivian if the boy had been beheaded, she said no. 

After looking at the picture of the ghost emanating the essence of the 1980s, I tried to place who could have modeled such awesomeness. I think I came up with the solution:

For it is John Oates private eyes watching you from the cover of A Coming Evil!

Note: Many thanks to Vivian Vande Velde for providing me with the cover graphics of A Coming Evil and letting me lampoon her book's cover. She did not, however, provide me with the picture of Hall and Oates. That was Wikipedia.


Note Two: Please check out Vivian Vande Velde's books at your local library. They are pretty awesome, especially Now You See It (a personal fav). Also, come out and meet Vivian on November 16 at the Rochester Children's Book Festival.

Adult themes, or why I haven't updated my blog in awhile

My mom is an avid subscriber of TV Guide. She has been my whole life. I spent many hours of my childhood reading the movie descriptions in the back of the magazine. This is where I learned about "adult themes". Granted, I didn't know what it meant when I was a kid; I thought it was something taboo and exciting.

Now that I'm an adult, I have decided that "adult themes" actually means the crap you have to take responsibility for as a grown up. For example, having to put down your beloved pet cat that you had as a kitten because he is sick--that's an adult theme. Paying a $3500 vet bill for said beloved cat is another adult theme.

Over the past week, I've had several adult themes in my life. If you follow my blog, you will remember my tribute to a friend who passed away last week. That was Monday. On Wednesday, I found out that my father-in-law had a heart attack and was in the hospital. Over the weekend, the roof in my craft room started leaking. Upon talking to the contractor, we found out that we will have to replace the roof on our whole house.

Right now, my life has so many adult themes that it should be rated NC-17, or Not Suitable for Children Under 17.

Having said all that, I believe that these things aren't too bad. I refuse to get bogged down in negativity. The best thing for me to do is to deal with the situations and move on. As my Grandpa Clyde said when the doctor told him he was going to die, "Eh, whatcha gonna do?"

Mind you, this was three years ago and Grandpa Clyde is still alive. The upshot of the story is that your attitude affects how you handle things.

Tomorrow on the blog, I will be back to lampooning bad book covers. That's my promise to you, the consumer. :-)