Library Reminiscence

In light of the library dust-up last month, I want to say that almost the very first thing we did when we moved here was head over to the Windsor Terrace library and get our library cards. The staff were friendly and helpful and made us feel welcome. I love how the subway trains rumble under the library every few minutes, although I'm sure longtime New Yorkers either (a) get used to it and don't notice it anymore or (b) get annoyed by it, but I still feel a little zing of excitement every time because it reminds me that I am, finally, really living in New York City. So I'm okay with the library; I understand that they have to control the crowd somehow and I wasn't being singled out in my exclusion from story time. I still love the library.

It would be hard, though, for any library to compete with the one I left back home in Denver. It was a gorgeous historic building, dignified but not imposing, with thick carpets and comfy chairs, a huge room downstairs for story times, meetings, book sales, etc., and beautiful rose bushes out front in the summertime. We went there all the time because it was across the street from M's preschool, and it was an easy, pleasant walk from our house. Our neighborhood was amazingly beautiful - nothing here can compare (sadly, even Ditmas Park has nothing on Park Hill) and I loved the walk to the library.

There was also the matter of my raging crush on one of the librarians. I loved to hear him read at story time. Something about his low, slow drawl just undid me. I couldn't get enough of him. I think he knew it though, and I think I freaked him out, because sometimes it seemed like he was avoiding me; the matron giving him the eye while schlepping two children, a pile of books, and a huge diaper bag. I couldn't help myself. I would have listened to him read all afternoon - something about his voice lodged inside me and made me woozy with desire. He kind of reminded me of John Locke - who also drives me wild.

Tom gets really disconcerted when I have these crushes because he claims they're always on nerds, freaks, or weirdos. He says it doesn't reflect well on him, my chosen partner. But I don't think my crushes are all nerds, freaks, and weirdos. I just have the ability to see through appearances to the core of a person, that's all. They may wear high-water slacks or tie-dyed T-shirts, they may be bald or extra-hairy or awkward or unusual in some way or another, but who cares? The heart wants what it wants. (Yeah, that's right, I have a thing for Woody Allen too - it's beyond my control, people!)