It's not that everything is better, but dwelling on things makes me crazy and there has been a lot going on this week that's not all in my own head.
First, from the mailbag:
Second, New Orleans. Wow. The first thing you notice when you start landing at the airport is the tarps. Lots of tarps, over roofs everyplace. The downtown core is a little ragged, but you don't notice it until you start to leave the Convention Center and French Quarter area and go just a mile or two out. There, it's really ragged. Sporadic trash pickup, most businesses are closed, lots of storefronts are totally empty. There's a hubub of clean-up activity [and all the public transportation is free, allowing me this trip to noplace] but you can tell the city is really empty, and it's hard to tell how and when it's going to really come back.
I've been doing my typical spare-bed-surfing routine which means a lot of time walking around with my luggage and a lot of downtime to read, look out the window, or walk around. The Council meetings are a little bittersweet because I know they're my last, for a while anyhow. I watch with one eye and realize that if there's going to be a graduated dues structure it will happen after I leave. I see ALA commit to providing free wifi at conferences and have to think if I'll be going to another one. I enjoy the professional development and extreme socializing that surrounds the conferences. If someone asked "Would you pay $400 to be able to hang out and catch up with 20-30 of your friends and countless acquaintances for a few days?" I'd likely say yes. On the other hand, big city conferences are the anti-Vermont and I miss the river and the silence and the dark.
I had beignets and strong coffee with my good friends from Alabama this afternoon and hit the sun and socializing wall. I came back and lay in an chilled empty room and stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep. I'm sure there will be a time in the future where my free time and empty spaces may not feel inviting and gratifying, but that time isn't now, not yet.
Post a Comment
First, from the mailbag:
I wrote a short play (partly inspired by your awesomeness) called "Kickass Librarian" which was selected for the Boston Theater Marathon and even got a positive note in the Boston Globe. So thank you for the inspiration
Second, New Orleans. Wow. The first thing you notice when you start landing at the airport is the tarps. Lots of tarps, over roofs everyplace. The downtown core is a little ragged, but you don't notice it until you start to leave the Convention Center and French Quarter area and go just a mile or two out. There, it's really ragged. Sporadic trash pickup, most businesses are closed, lots of storefronts are totally empty. There's a hubub of clean-up activity [and all the public transportation is free, allowing me this trip to noplace] but you can tell the city is really empty, and it's hard to tell how and when it's going to really come back.
I've been doing my typical spare-bed-surfing routine which means a lot of time walking around with my luggage and a lot of downtime to read, look out the window, or walk around. The Council meetings are a little bittersweet because I know they're my last, for a while anyhow. I watch with one eye and realize that if there's going to be a graduated dues structure it will happen after I leave. I see ALA commit to providing free wifi at conferences and have to think if I'll be going to another one. I enjoy the professional development and extreme socializing that surrounds the conferences. If someone asked "Would you pay $400 to be able to hang out and catch up with 20-30 of your friends and countless acquaintances for a few days?" I'd likely say yes. On the other hand, big city conferences are the anti-Vermont and I miss the river and the silence and the dark.
I had beignets and strong coffee with my good friends from Alabama this afternoon and hit the sun and socializing wall. I came back and lay in an chilled empty room and stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep. I'm sure there will be a time in the future where my free time and empty spaces may not feel inviting and gratifying, but that time isn't now, not yet.
6/26/2006Links to this post:
<< Home
