Due Dates

Today Mr. Phillips made me practice stamping due date cards, the way the librarian used to check out books to me when I was a kid. Mr. Phillips is an older gentleman, what some would call a cranky old man, and is fiercely, you might even say maniacally, conservative (not necessarily politically--I have no idea what his politics are--but certainly when it comes to librarianship). I think he has been running this place for about 30 years and he has managed to this day to prevent the intrusion of computers ("those infernal machines", as he so colorfully refers to them) into the Foundation's library. Indeed, when I first started working here last fall, I felt like I was stepping back in time, back to my childhood in the 70's when the library still had a card catalog and the librarian stamped the due date on the little due date card and stuck it in the pocket in the back of the book. Well, the electronic age has yet to arrive at the library of the Douglas Arthur Foundation, and, as long as Walter J. Phillips is in charge, the 21st century will just have to wait.

Mr. Phillips had to attend some important meeting this morning, so he delegated the actual due-date-stamping training to his second-in-command, a fiftyish woman whom I shall call Vivian. Vivian has been here almost as long as Phillips and seems his equal, if that were possible, in library conservatism, while successfully managing to embody just about every librarian stereotype you've ever heard. She wears cat-eye glasses, her brown hair is invariably pulled up in a bun, and I'm pretty sure she's unmarried. I've heard her mention her cat, but never anything about a husband or children. I once saw her shush some important members of the Foundation who were chatting in the reading room. They respectfully, if begrudgingly, complied.

Anyway, Vivian demonstrated for me the correct method of stamping due date cards. "First," she said, "you pull the card out of the pocket."

She pulled a card out of its pocket in the back of a book.

"Then you take the stamp... if it's the beginning of the day, make sure it is set to the correct due date..." [she held it up so I could see that it was set to 15 MAY 2008, two weeks from today] "...then you ink it... not too much ink, mind you. Next you stamp the card on the first empty line on the left hand side, unless that side is full, in which case you stamp it on the first empty line on the right. Now watch, this is very important... you must bring the stamp down at a 45-degree angle, like so... then roll it, gently but firmly, up then down... applying just the right amount of pressure... too little and you've left an incomplete date, too much and you've made an ungodly mess. Then you return the stamp to its holder... and lastly, return the card to the pocket, quietly close the book, and slide it discreetly to the patron. You know, of course, that libraries do not have customers, they have patrons. A library is not a business."

"Of course."

"Very good. Now here, you give it a try."

Nervously, I tried to emulate all of Vivian's moves. Every single one of her motions had displayed complete perfection and the utmost elegance, which I suppose had come with almost three decades of practice. She really has this due date stamping thing down to a science. Perhaps even an art. My first attempt was less than perfect.

"Darn," I said, careful not to swear in front of the stern Vivian.

"That's all right, it's your first time. You'll improve with practice. Here," she said, producing from a drawer a huge stack of due date cards, "why don't you go into the workroom and practice until ten o'clock."

Two hours of stamping due date cards? Well, I told myself, if this is what it takes to become a great librarian, I'm willing to put in the time. After all, great musicians don't become that way without hours of repetitive practice, right?

I've gotta tell ya, though, my hand is still sore.