Not That Kind Of Quiet

I’m cheating on my library. No, it’s not because of the e-book thing. I have to schlep out to Colliervile two days a week and the library out here is good for hanging out. I’m a city girl. I like being inside the 240. The Memphis Central Library is within walking distance of my house–not that I ever walk there. I think about walking there, but I guess that’s kind of not the same. Anyway, one of my favorite places to sit is up on the fourth floor of the library, especially when it’s rainy. It’s not so much that the view is stellar. I sit where I can overlook East High School and the scrubby little strips of cellphone stores and nail places on Poplar. I just think it’s amazing there’s this big building full of books that could answer any question a person could have. AND THEY’RE FREE! They just GIVE them to you. Unless you’re me. When the weather is extremely hot or cold, there are a lot of scruffy men draped across the pleather chairs. They always seem to be eating Hot Fries. Back in April I was up there on a rainy morning. Several men were sitting around complaining about wives and trading stories about church services. The men began talking about work. Most were retired. It ended up that two of the men had worked for the city during the sanitation strike, but didn’t know each other. I tried not to act like a creep, but HISTORY! I had to listen in. And that’s why I love the library and Memphis. I can look out over a high school that looks like something out of a John Hughes movie while listening to people talk about being there the last night of Dr. King’s life.

The library in Collierville has carpet that cost more than my house. I don’t know how new this place is, but it doesn’t smell like a library yet. You know the smell. Paper, mold, dust, the reference librarian who still wears Wind Song. This library smells like a hotel. But credit where credit’s due. The outlet situation here is superb. There are many places to plug in one’s computer. Of course, today I seem to be the only person here using a computer which doesn’t belong to the library. Downside is I don’t get to bond with a harried grad student when we make a deal to watch each other’s stuff while we go to the restroom. I think I could just leave my stuff on the table if I need to go. I appear to be the youngest person here by at least fifteen years. If the old guy behind me wearing seersucker shorts and suspenders tried to make off with my laptop, I could take him down. I don’t want to brag or anything, but I could totally trip him with his own cane. And don’t think I wouldn’t do it. I have many important pictures of kittens cuddling with pandas downloaded on this machine.

It’s nice to be able to spread out. I might bring a snack next week. I find every task more enjoyable when snacks are involved. I’m kind of lonely though. The people-watching situation here is sub-par. The quiet here is a real quiet. Not the quiet of kids just sprung from school and eager to check Facebook. It’s not the quiet like when I try not to yell because they keep moving the 300s and 700s.  And everyone smells nice. I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with that.

 

Politics Most Fowl

I know everything is political. I get it. Shoes, makeup, the kind of bags you haul groceries in are all indicative of exactly how black your soul is. And now? Your choice of fast food chicken tells me how you feel about teh gayz. That’s right. If you eat at Chick-fil-a, you’re a gay-hating, gun-toting, Bible-thumping troglodyte. If you don’t eat there, you’re a homo-lovin’, granola-crunching, atheist communist. AND THERE IS NO IN BETWEEN.

Soylent Green Corporations are people. People have rights. Like the right to royally piss off a large segment of the population which believes same sex marriage is a civil rights issue rather than a religious issue. When I hear someone say, “I think we are inviting God’s judgement on our nation when we shake our fist at Him and say ‘we know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage’ and I pray God’s mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we have the audacity to define what marriage is about,” it’s no different to me than saying that in the context of a discussion about black people marrying. It is purely a civil rights issue to me. I understand not everyone feels that way, and I DO believe that simply because you do not believe gay people should enjoy the same civil rights you do, doesn’t necessarily mean you hate gay people. That’s too easy. I think you are wrong, but I don’t make the leap that you hate. You may disagree with me, and I think I get where you’re coming from.

But people, THIS IS LUNCH. If you don’t want your money contributing to whatever farkakte charity a particular business supports, don’t eat there. If you do, eat there every day. THEN MOVE ON. If you live in Memphis and want to do something meaningful and political, then vote tomorrow. It’s free, it works, and it does not generally give you gas. But exchanging money for a hand spun peach shake does not make you political. It makes you a consumer. If you want to stand on line for two hours for some waffle fries, be my guest. But don’t expect it to change the world or save you a seat in heaven.

Look, eat mor chikn, don’t eat chicken, eat at KFC in protest, only eat fruit which has naturally fallen from the tree. I don’t care. If you’re looking to make a political statement with your food, I’d like to recommend you do so by supporting some of the many local restaurants across this great nation. Those of us who derive income from local restaurants appreciate your support.

Yeah, And Another Picture

A long time ago in a universe far away, I had another blog. That blog spawned a photoblog, but I abandoned it because I shut down the old blog and–more importantly–I am not a photographer. I had some old ads and miscellaneous junk posted, and it was nifty for a while. 

Be that as it may, I like to take pictures. Occasionally. I was reading something from a photographer asking people if they were “binge” photographers or “snack” photographers. I’m of the binge persuasion. The jasmine outside of Standard Shed Studios is about to bust out and it inspired me to start snapping, dust of the photoblog, throw some stuff out, and relaunch it.

I give you Yeah, And Another Picture