Living Large, Literally, In the Library

RONALD CLARK GREW UP in the new York City public library, lucky fellow. During World War Two, his father was a custodian in the building, and spend much of his time keeping up appearances. One thing led to another, the family spent time there, enjoyed it, and just sort of moved in, setting up house in an unused upstairs storage room, while the man of the house did more than his job description called for, waxing every shelf in the place to a reflective sheen. the young boy, surrounded by knowledge, grew to love books and what they did for him. He grew up a scholar, and ended up spending his career as a college professor. he says he spent hours each day roaming among the stacks, picking and choosing at will, unhurried, being alone when hw wanted to be, while still enjoying a social life at school, with friends, with family, and on playgrounds. Kind of makes you jealous, doesn't it? I didn't literally grow up in a library, but I spent, and still spend, a fair share of my time in them, and consider libraries to be my natural habitat, as I'm sure many other people. The Library of Congress is, essentially, on the same level as your local library with fifty thousand books. the same atmosphere, the same opportunity for learning, especially in our computerized era. Strangely, ever since I was a child, I have never tended to like librarians. I have found them to be petty, vindictive, pious, priggish, emotionally parsimonious. That's only because the librarians in the public schools I attended tolerated not a single hurled paper wad, and no whispering whatever. They're a bit looser now. By the same toke, your basic police officer personality has never appealed to me; too much of the stolid, silent, suspicious type. And yet, I recognize them as heroes, as I recognize librarians as professional community servants. There is no excuse for not liking librarians as a class, all you have to do is avoid them by remaining ensconced in the stacks, out of sight. you can fine your own books, even if it takes an eternity. But librarians are like cops; if and when you need one, you suddenly become damned sure glad that one is available, and they are invariably willing, able, an willing to render assistance, even if they happen to be looing over their thick rimmed glasses, and down their nose at you while doing so. Ronald Clark led a lucky life, and a magical, blessed childhood. I'm jealous. and maybe I'm a little jealous of the librarian profession as well; they get to spend eons of time in libraries, and they get paid for it.