The Librarian

Posted: 13 December 2008 in Charlottesville, Food, joy, other folks

I have another Saturday to myself, thanks to band practice.  Not my own, of course, that out-of-tune whistling you heard last night was me.  So D. is in DC and I’m here in Charlottesville running errands and shopping.  This is not as dreadful as it might sound.  For one, it’s over but for the pine nuts and almond paste.  Second, I had a list (not that I remembered to bring it in anywhere). 

Library books.  I wonder if this is how doctors feel going to a free clinic.  Or how baristas feel at an out-of-town Starbucks.  I always have a deep urge to blurt, “I’m a librarian!” but I doubt the put-upon, dour, folks at the local branch are interested in my freshman jubilation.  I can’t say I blame them.  They are working in a dimly lit strip mall library, that looks both thrown together and deliberately cobbled to steer away the most people.  Computers are few and tucked in the back with out-of-the-way catalog monitors.  The self check-out machine is the only real nod to technology, and it works well.  All the books I’ve looked for so far have been there, so it’s meeting my needs, but it’s a far cry from the polished glass community centers with books that I’m used to.

Plan 9, the local film and music store was a welcome surprise.  The staff was helpful and actually stepped from around the counter to help me find something.  Nice, especially after I made them play that guessing game…”What’s the one with Zach Braff and that pretty girl…uh Portman?”  (Mind you, this is a step up from the time I sang “Birdcage in your Soul” to the music guy (see aforementioned musical skills).  Chandler’s Bakerywas a small town delight, bewitching me with the smell of pastries and cake.  The woman who served me did so with a gentle, persistent smile and handed me a fork and napkin as if I might eat both enormous desserts alone.  And honestly, I might have if they hadn’t been a treat for D. 

So you can see, everything was going fine until I got to Target.  It was a usual pre-Christmas mess.  And, although I came home with plenty I didn’t need, I left without the one thing I went for, a cookie press for my father.  I was feeling exhausted but superhuman in my ability to fend off the hoards so I went to the grocery to but baking supplies.  More crowds and, well, I’m glad to be home.  I can’t imagine what Christmas shopping for D’s nieces and nephew will be like in a few weekends. 

So I tell you all that to tell you this.  I’m at home, wrapped in a  fuzzy blue sweater watching The Librarian.  Noah Wyle plays an affable, bumbling librarian who gets sucked into Indiana Jones-esque adventure.  It’s partly tongue in cheek and partly ridiculous.  I’m going to assume it’s meant to be a comedy-adventure and that it was more about saturated colors and the mystery of the library and less about acting (this review does it better justice than I can).  At any rate, it still makes me want to blurt out, “I’m a librarian!”


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