September 26, 2007
Changes
I must cogitate on the future of my blog, as I will no longer 'buy books' but lend them. I have accepted a job as the director of the Fern Ridge Library, and begin in 10 days. If you click that link, you'll see that a new website will be up high on the list of things to accomplish quickly...
September 17, 2007
Seattle Bound
I'm heading further north for the fall PNBA tradeshow tomorrow morning. I'm gonna bring a camera and post a bunch of pictures here after I return on Friday.
September 14, 2007
Books I Ought to have Read
When anyone hears that I work in a bookstore, they immediately assume that I've read everything, or at least a whole lot more than they have themselves. While the former is laughable, and the latter is not always the case, this perception is hard to shake. Certainly, there is an expectation that I have read all the 'classics.' Now, we've all faked reading some books, it is unavoidable in life, but there are tons of books that I freely admit that I've never read, and most of these are books I really SHOULD read. In fact, I'm ashamed that I haven't read some of them. A book that falls in this category will be all over the place this year because 2008 represents the golden anniversary of the release of On The Road.
The most intriguing of the publications is the release of the text from the original scroll. I hadn't even realized that there existed a difference between what Kerouac famously typed onto one continuous sheet and what you see in the myriad editions printed over the last 50 years. Living in Eugene, I feel compelled to read this original presentation of the work, just as I felt that I HAD to start running again because of Prefontaine. Damn hippies. What next? Soon I'll be trolling for toga parties because Animal House was filmed two blocks from where I'm sitting...
Until I have time to read On The Road, I'll read through this list of road songs; one for each state.
The most intriguing of the publications is the release of the text from the original scroll. I hadn't even realized that there existed a difference between what Kerouac famously typed onto one continuous sheet and what you see in the myriad editions printed over the last 50 years. Living in Eugene, I feel compelled to read this original presentation of the work, just as I felt that I HAD to start running again because of Prefontaine. Damn hippies. What next? Soon I'll be trolling for toga parties because Animal House was filmed two blocks from where I'm sitting...
Until I have time to read On The Road, I'll read through this list of road songs; one for each state.
September 12, 2007
Good Essay
Read this essay from the New York Times Review of Books last week. Not only are the observations about MySpace from a newbie user spot on, but the style of writing is exactly the sort of humorous tone I always THINK i'm putting into my own feeble attempts at communication.
September 6, 2007
Top of 'The Stack'
Forget about Vick and the NBA Ref's. I'm reading about the ugly side of the beautiful game this week.
Long Live the Codex
Here be the follow up to the last Footnote column I posted on here:
Long Live the Codex
As if you couldn't think of enough names to call me, this month I'll give you another - hypocrite! In April I implored you to look at the world through digitally enhanced glasses. Start a blog, I suggested. Look to the future! I still stand by that missive 100%, even as I now proclaim that a backlash is a'comin.
In a recent edition of Shelf Awareness, a New York Times article was cited indicating that online sales are dropping sharply as consumers are experiencing something they call 'Internet fatigue.' Earlier this spring, an article on CNN.com
highlighted a new Lent trend: students giving up e-mail and social networking sites instead of eschewing the usual sugary or alcoholic vices. Just yesterday, I left my cell phone at home and didn't feel all that bad about it. While these revelations are not biblical in proportion (no fish from the sky nor rivers of blood), the Luddite in me cracks a smile with each indication that there is a limit to the speed of technological change.
I recently received a master's degree in library and information science from a school up in Seattle that I won't mention here in case I set off alarms at the uoregon.edu server (paranoia, another great force perhaps fueling 'Internet fatigue'). In the last paper I penned as a grad student, I wrote about a 100-year-old dictionary and the pleasure I derive from using it, something I called a 'tangible slow-down event.' I think that books will forever provide a similar moment for everyone engaging the world digitally, even the ones lining up at midnight to buy Wii's and iPhones. The fact that college students are already beginning to recognize the limitations of sites like MySpace and Facebook-and are willing to put them down for 40 days-is especially encouraging. Remember, these are 'adults' who can't remember a time when the Internet didn't exist.
How do we capitalize on this backlash? By going back-to-basics, and ensuring that even as we acknowledge the need to plug in, we hone our handselling techniques and focus on the bookstore as a place where the printed word slows us down and connects us to our past. I work in a university store, where four times a year I have to move all my shelves around in order to accommodate textbook lines. How I envy you small bookstore owners your comfy chairs and nooks and permanent displays! But even now I am shopping for chairs, rugs, and desks, happy to provide my customers with a seat even though I'll most likely throw my back out moving this new furniture along with my bookshelves come 'rush.'
Slow is all the rage these days. You all know the bestseller from last year, so I don't even need to mention the title. The Slow Food movement has gained momentum, created to protest the coming of McDonald's to Rome. I see our bookstores as an anchor to the social side of the slow movement. Five years ago, the coffee joints of the world would have laid claim to this title. But let's face it; there is nothing slow about Starbucks and the local coffee independents trying to chase them. Restaurants, bistros, bars, and other popular meeting places can sometimes provide a slow environment, but even in sleepy Eugene during the summer you can't be sure until you sit down what you'll get.
Our bookstores, though, are the ideal place to promote slow. After all, we've had years of practice ourselves. This summer, now that the dust has settled from 7.21.07, join me in trying to think of new ways to encourage customers to stick around, sit down, and go analog. Better yet, be sure to do so yourself as often as possible. After all, when the @#$% comes down, much like the survivalists building their bunkers in the woods, we'll become the experts.
Long Live the Codex
As if you couldn't think of enough names to call me, this month I'll give you another - hypocrite! In April I implored you to look at the world through digitally enhanced glasses. Start a blog, I suggested. Look to the future! I still stand by that missive 100%, even as I now proclaim that a backlash is a'comin.
In a recent edition of Shelf Awareness, a New York Times article was cited indicating that online sales are dropping sharply as consumers are experiencing something they call 'Internet fatigue.' Earlier this spring, an article on CNN.com
highlighted a new Lent trend: students giving up e-mail and social networking sites instead of eschewing the usual sugary or alcoholic vices. Just yesterday, I left my cell phone at home and didn't feel all that bad about it. While these revelations are not biblical in proportion (no fish from the sky nor rivers of blood), the Luddite in me cracks a smile with each indication that there is a limit to the speed of technological change.
I recently received a master's degree in library and information science from a school up in Seattle that I won't mention here in case I set off alarms at the uoregon.edu server (paranoia, another great force perhaps fueling 'Internet fatigue'). In the last paper I penned as a grad student, I wrote about a 100-year-old dictionary and the pleasure I derive from using it, something I called a 'tangible slow-down event.' I think that books will forever provide a similar moment for everyone engaging the world digitally, even the ones lining up at midnight to buy Wii's and iPhones. The fact that college students are already beginning to recognize the limitations of sites like MySpace and Facebook-and are willing to put them down for 40 days-is especially encouraging. Remember, these are 'adults' who can't remember a time when the Internet didn't exist.
How do we capitalize on this backlash? By going back-to-basics, and ensuring that even as we acknowledge the need to plug in, we hone our handselling techniques and focus on the bookstore as a place where the printed word slows us down and connects us to our past. I work in a university store, where four times a year I have to move all my shelves around in order to accommodate textbook lines. How I envy you small bookstore owners your comfy chairs and nooks and permanent displays! But even now I am shopping for chairs, rugs, and desks, happy to provide my customers with a seat even though I'll most likely throw my back out moving this new furniture along with my bookshelves come 'rush.'
Slow is all the rage these days. You all know the bestseller from last year, so I don't even need to mention the title. The Slow Food movement has gained momentum, created to protest the coming of McDonald's to Rome. I see our bookstores as an anchor to the social side of the slow movement. Five years ago, the coffee joints of the world would have laid claim to this title. But let's face it; there is nothing slow about Starbucks and the local coffee independents trying to chase them. Restaurants, bistros, bars, and other popular meeting places can sometimes provide a slow environment, but even in sleepy Eugene during the summer you can't be sure until you sit down what you'll get.
Our bookstores, though, are the ideal place to promote slow. After all, we've had years of practice ourselves. This summer, now that the dust has settled from 7.21.07, join me in trying to think of new ways to encourage customers to stick around, sit down, and go analog. Better yet, be sure to do so yourself as often as possible. After all, when the @#$% comes down, much like the survivalists building their bunkers in the woods, we'll become the experts.
September 5, 2007
Sometime TV is good too...
I actively avoid cable series like those found on HBO. HOWEVER, Jen got me watching Flight of the Conchords, and I am now hooked. Watch this to see why...
Back from the East Coast
Saw many wonderful things on my trip, from green cornfields and my new neice in Ohio, to a booming thunderstorm in Blacksburg. Saw horrendous things too, like the development in my old college town. All in all, it was nice to return home. Did I read on my trip? Well, I didn't crack Night Train to Lisbon, as predicted. Instead, one of the very few Discworld novels that I haven't read was sitting on the top of stack of books my brother is storing at the padres' casa. What would YOU have done?!
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