Dewey Decibel

Upon consulting the archives, I find that I have written posts which are predominantly concerned with the public library on six occasions, some of those occurring during the early days of this blog when I was somewhat less serious and refined in my method (but no more or less successful in drawing readers). It surprised me that I had not commented on the silence (or lack thereof) that may be found within the walls of that institution.

I was raised to be as quiet as a dormouse (whatever that may be) while in the library. Librarians were always very imposing and intimidating figures, and they always wanted you to be quiet and still. They got their way when I was a boy, and I must concede as a grown man that they had the right idea. I then would have wanted some leeway where both were concerned, but I am all turned around on the subject now. A graveyard would be too noisy for me if I were reading, studying or selecting materials.

I have been guilty of transgressions, chiefly when I have been in the company of a friend while patronizing the library. That happens seldom, but when it does I cannot fault the librarian for putting me in my place. A particular example from college, wherein I was listening to some favorite music on my cd player and singing along with it loudly and lustily has me chuckling and wondering why reproach was not both swifter and more severe. I would hate with a passion anyone doing the same in my presence, particularly if they lacked my good taste in music.

You get my general point, I trust. There has been some kind of breakdown in discipline where libraries are concerned, and I am most sorry for it. I walked into one with the intention of reading the last hundred pages or so of a book which I had before selecting a new one. It took some hour and a half, and took that much longer than usual because of all the distractions. Now, I'll admit that I may be more susceptible to distraction than the average person, but I swear that library was as noisy as a football stadium, with nothing as spectacular as my aforementioned musical offense. I have no ideas on solutions, but maybe we could dig up some of those old, retired librarians who were as tough as John Wayne, Charles Bronson and George S. Patton combined?