November 25, 1998 - Barnes & Noble buys Ingram

This is the week many of us will be sitting down to a Thanksgiving dinner. But what shall we talk about?

There's the food, of course. The library has a marvelous audiotape that recounts the dinner time sounds at Roy Blount's momma's, a veritable choir of "mm-HMMM's" and "LOOK at them yams!" Such talk flatters the host and arguably spices the meals. (I include the side discussion, usually among the children, about at least one peculiar victual that goes back a generation or two. "What's IN that jello?" "Why do they call it a 'Watergate Salad?'" "Do I have to eat this?")

It is generally held that you should never discuss politics, religion or sex at the dinner table. That's a tragedy, since these are, of course, three of the most interesting topics we have. And in America, they're generally connected, whether the subject is, for instance, "freedom of choice" versus "anti-abortion" or, alas, anything to do with President Clinton.

Librarians will probably be talking about something the rest of the world may not have even noticed. Barnes and Noble, America's biggest bookstore, is in the process of buying Ingram, one of the nation's two biggest book distributors.

The world of books is like any other business these days. That is, there are fewer and fewer players all the time. Several years ago, Ingram was doing the buying. It acquired a company called Gordon's, which had a huge book warehouse in Denver.

This year, Ingram supplies more than half of all the books the Douglas Public Library District buys -- some 30,000 items a year. (Incidentally, some 90,000 items a year -- 60,000 new, and perhaps 30,000 older items that need mending, reclassification, or deletion -- flow through our tiny 1,300 square foot processing area in the corner of the Philip S. Miller Library. It's this space crunch that drives our need for a new "technical services" area.)

When you fill out a "blue slip" (our request form) for a book at the library, we place an electronic order with Ingram. If they've got it in the local warehouse (which they usually do), we get the book the very next day. Their service is prompt, reliable, and relatively inexpensive. Given the extraordinary growth of our county, Ingram has been an important part of our strategy to keep up with our patrons' unending demand for new materials.

But how will their acquisition by Barnes and Noble change things, if at all?

Not only librarians are asking this question. The independent bookstores, from Denver's Tattered Cover to Castle Rock's Hooked on Books, are also troubled. Barnes and Noble is their main competition. There have already been several lawsuits about book discount rates that favor the large chains. With Barnes and Noble also owning the book warehouse, the company has achieved a huge competitive advantage.

Some independent bookstore owners project two outcomes of the Ingram buy-out: more independents going out of business, and a narrowing of the diversity of Ingram offerings. If so, libraries may also find it harder to come up with anything but the blockbusters and movie-tie-ins that provide the main fare for chain bookstores.

Since this is Thanksgiving, I have to say that I've always been grateful for the independent bookstores, their quirky stock, their wide-ranging areas of special interest, their piquancy and character. It saddens me that the local bookstore may soon go the way of the mom and pop grocery store.

But then there's the other side of Thanksgiving. Call it the business end of the holiday: when you've got an insatiable appetite, you're just liable to gobble everything in sight.

November 18, 1998 - Tellabration

There's a group, really, called "The National Storytelling Association." The first time I heard of them, I suspected it was a nom de plume for the Arkansas branch of the LaRue clan. They couldn't tell the straight truth if they got paid good money for it.

See, in their home town of Mountainburg, population 454 (most of them my kin), nothing much goes on. Ever. So anything that does happen gets a remarkable dose of embellishment. The chief form of entertainment is stretching out a minor incident (say, Joyce went to the store for a sweet potato and brought home an onion) into a two hour long, highly dramatic yet thigh-slappingly funny saga.

Nobody was better at this than my late Uncle Bill Rogers. Properly speaking, he was a LaRue only by marriage. But as he might have put it himself, he perked up the line considerable. He once completely enthralled my wife and me for most of an evening with a story I was sure was pure fiction.

It was all about how a down-on-his-luck California crooner named Tony Alamo found Jesus, then came to Alma, Arkansas and started a restaurant. He staffed the restaurant with wayward, pregnant teenagers. Then he sold off their babies on the black market, mostly to rich folks.

Then Tony's evangelist wife got cancer and died. The slave laborers of the restaurant put her in a special freezer that had a permanently illuminated, internal switch. When Tony's wife came back to life -- as a result of a 24-hour-a-day prayer vigil that had been going on for a couple of years -- she'd just have to hit that switch with her elbow.

Not only would the freezer pop open, but the sounds of Elvis (her favorite) would swell through the refrigerated air. The event would also set off an alarm in the main restaurant.

Uncle Bill filled in the story with a side narrative about how the Tony Alamo followers had taken over the political machinery of the little town of Alma, to the consternation of the locals.

I didn't believe a word of it. Not that that slowed down for a second my appreciation of the tale.

Imagine my surprise when two weeks later, the same story hit Time, or possibly Newsweek. That's the trouble with a really good liar -- you never know when he might be telling the truth.

Which brings me to this week's topic: "Tellabration." The brainchild of the aforementioned National Storytelling Association, this is a national event that whoops up the ancient art of stretching the facts.

The Douglas Public Library District will observe Tellabration on November 21.

At our Highlands Ranch Library, storyteller Brad Bowles (who happens to be Chairman of the CU Theater Department) will provide a program at 10:30 a.m. There will be music. The audience will have a chance to join in, and I hope they take it.

At the Castle Rock Starlighting Ceremony, Brad Bowles will regale families on the 2nd floor of the Masonic Hall, located on the northeast corner of 3rd and Wilcox.

(Incidentally, I strongly urge you to stand across the street on the south side of this remarkable, historic building. Look at the windows. They do not line up. But it's perfect. The two floors manage both to complement and to ignore each other. I love that building.)

Shortly after Bowles's presentation (from 3:30 to 4 p.m.), Santa Claus, I have been informed, will make an appearance.

Finally, at our Parker Library, Liz Masterson and Sean Blackburn will present a medley of stories and songs from classic western movies. In 1998, two key cowboy crooners -- Gene Autrey and Roy Rogers -- Went West. Here's a chance to remember some of their songs, among others. Sean adds some eye-popping rope tricks. While this performance is mostly geared toward adults, older children will probably find lots to enjoy as well. The time: 7:30 p.m.

Anyway, that's my story. And I'm sticking to it.

November 11, 1998 - Philip S. Miller Biography

Beware, you teachers! A single comment on a school assignment can mark a young woman. It can twist whole lives.

Consider, for instance, a five page research paper written for Douglas County High School teacher Mr. James McKay. The year was 1967. The title was "The History of Banking in Castle Rock." The author was one Debbie Bubolz.

Now it happens that Debbie was and is the daughter of Willie Bubolz, who was on the Board of Directors of the Bank of Douglas County. And it's also true that the Bank of Douglas County was the ONLY bank in Castle Rock at that time. (This is in marked contrast to today, incidentally, when there's a bank every three or four feet.)

Well, thanks to family connections, Debbie did a lot of interviews, learning about two predecessors to the Bank of Douglas County, which opened in 1939. She also unearthed original scrapbooks from stockholders of those banks dating back to 1917. The proud 16-year old author submitted her thoroughly researched paper, a paper steeped in source documents and the living memory of people now gone. She was sure she'd get an "A."

And she was devastated to receive a humiliating "B-". McKay's verdict: ".... it needs many more footnotes."

Now on the outside, Debbie seemed fine. She became the owner of the Powder Box Beauty Salon in Castle Rock through the mid-70's. Then she sold the salon and taught at Beauty Schools in Denver, Englewood, and Greeley. (I have always thought, incidentally, that "Beauty Operator" is the best job title ever. It pleases me still to know that SOMEBODY is keeping Beauty going.)

Later, she became a journalist, then editor for the Rapp Street Journal in Littleton. Finally, she earned a B.A. in English and Education, moved to Arizona, and taught GED classes.

But always in the back of her mind was that "B-", that careless remark about footnotes.

Thirty fateful years later, Debbie, now Debbie Bubolz-Bodle, has published a book entitled Philip Simon Miller: Butcher, Banker and Benefactor.

(The discerning reader will note that preponderance of "B's" in her name and her work. Coincidence?)

Mr. Miller is of course well known to Douglas County. His name graces two buildings in Castle Rock: the Philip S. Miller Library, and the Philip S. Miller Building of Douglas County.

The astonishing legacy of the Philip S. Miller Perpetual Charitable Trust will continue to benefit not only the library and the county, but also (among others) the Douglas County Fair, the Douglas County School District, and the Castle Rock Fire Department, long into the future. But the great value of Debbie's book is that it reaches into, that it rescues and preserves, the PAST.

In Debbie's own words, "I could never have guessed that the research would take me clear back to the mid 1800's in Germany, then to the late 1800's in Peoria, Illinois, then to the early 1900's in Denver, Colorado and Elizabeth, Colorado and finally to the early 1920's in Castle Rock."

To celebrate the publication of this book, the Douglas Public Library District is pleased to announce a reception for the author. It will be held, fittingly, at the Philip S. Miller Library on Sunday, November 15, from 2 to 4 p.m. Copies of the book will be available for sale in soft cover. Orders may be taken for hardcover versions, which will be carried by area stores and through the Friends of the Philip S. Miller Library.

Please plan to join us to welcome a most welcome contribution to the rich history of our county.

And you teachers, think about those comments you scrawl on your assignments.

November 4, 1998 - Library Programs

A couple of weeks ago, I got an e-mail message from a patron who located the library’s web page before she found information about various library programs in the newspaper. She asked how difficult it would be to post the same listings on the Internet.

It turns out that it’s not difficult at all. You can now find weekly programming updates at http://douglas.lib.co.us -- and thanks for the suggestion.

In the process of converting the information, I noticed some things. During the week of October 28 through November 4, we offered 8 programs at the Philip S. Miller Library in Castle Rock, 16 at Parker, 7 at the new Lone Tree Library, 15 at Highlands Ranch, and 1 at Louviers. That’s 47 programs in just one week.

Of the total, three were targeted toward adults (one at Philip S. Miller, 2 in Parker, one at Highlands Ranch). All of the rest were for children, primarily story times.

These story times are among the key strategies the library has for recruitment. Some of our richest offerings “take” best in young minds, and build a lifelong pattern of literacy. That pattern not only benefits our libraries, but our entire community.

Our enthusiastic staff has spent a lot of time the past year coordinating children’s story themes, working up new puppet shows, learning new songs and finger plays, and generally working hard to ensure the highest quality library experience for young children. Incidentally, the themes of our story sessions, as well as the ages of the target audiences, are also listed on the web page, just as they are in the paper.

While a good many adults make use of library facilities for meetings (we’re booked almost every night, at almost every one of our buildings), we don’t right now have an aggressive menu of programs for adults.

There are exceptions. The Parker Library has had great success with its Travel Series. A prime example is this November 4’s "London to West Africa" presented by Al Batik. The peripatetic Al hit the "Chunnel" Train, lighted in Paris, then visited the Cape Verde Islands. The Friends of the Parker Library provide their usual tasty refreshments. The time: 7 p.m.

In addition, the Parker Library also announced an art exhibit by Nate Liederbach (surrealism in oils) and Jeff Michalek (photographic creative portraiture), which will run through October 31.

Coming up shortly will be Philip S. Miller’s durable Lunch ‘n’ Learn programs -- the opportunity to brown bag it and listen to programs rounded up in cooperation with CSU’s Extension Service.

Another district program for adults is our Internet training class, which mostly happen in Parker, but pop up anywhere there’s interest (this week, it’s Highlands Ranch).

It is the experience of most libraries that adult programming simply isn’t as popular as children’s programming. Adults are busy. In a commuting county, most folks stay put when they get home. Besides that, they have access to a range of educational and recreational choices not so readily available to kids.

But every now and then I do like to poke at my own professional prejudices. Moreover, sometimes patterns change. Are we missing something?

If you have ideas about some library program the library should be offering on a regular basis, something you yourself would leave home to attend, please let me or your local librarian know about it.

October 28, 1998 - Running the CLA Conference

I was the eldest of five children. We rotated the chore of doing dishes.

On the whole, I can't say I enjoyed it much, mostly because five kids and a varying number of adults produced a lot of things to be washed. But it could be OK, depending upon my partner.

I learned from this experience something fairly important: some things just have to get done, whether or not there's glory, money, or pleasure in it. Sometimes, it's just your turn.

Two years ago I was approached by the outgoing president of the Colorado Library Association. She asked me if I would consider tossing my name in the hat for the position she was leaving.

Basically, it was a three year job: the first year you were "President-Elect." What you got for the glory was the privilege of planning the annual conference for the state.

Then you were "President" for a year, and mostly just presided over association business meetings. Then you were "Past-President," when you finally had enough experience to be useful. Most Past Presidents spend the year cleaning up the messes they made the year before, and serving as counselors to the next folks.

There's no money in it, of course, and at first the thought of a three year commitment scared me off.

But then I realized: sometimes it's your turn. Nobody else wanted the job, so it wasn't hard to get elected. My own backyard was pretty much in order, and there were several state-wide issues facing libraries that I had some strong opinions about.

I decided it was my turn to do the institutional dishes.

Running the conference -- which went from October 16 through the 19th at the DoubleTree Hotel-World Arena in Colorado Springs -- was fascinating.

First, I had to locate some committee chairmen and chairwomen. We had a Programs Chair, responsible for getting enough (mostly unpaid) presenters on subjects of interest to librarians. By the time we were done, we had over 90 programs, delivered from Friday morning through noon on Monday.

We had an Exhibits Chair, our own Holly Deni. The task here is to contact companies who sell to libraries, and set them up in a hotel display area, where they interact with potential customers. Holly pulled in so many vendors that they spilled out of the exhibit area into the hotel hallways.

We had a Local Arrangements Chair, responsible for coordinating meals, identifying sources for audio-visual equipment, and generally making sure the room arrangement worked.

We had a Publicity Chair, responsible for letting the roughly 500 Colorado Library Association members know about the conference. We had a Registration Chair, who set up a way to register for the conference over the Internet. By the time we were done, we'd swelled the ranks of CLA to some 800 people, over 700 of whom came to the conference.

We had some other positions: DPLD's Cindy Murphy and Patt Paul looked after special events at the conference, such as evening entertainment, author signings, and back up for vendor support.

My job? I talked to the hotel a lot, brought in a couple of big library speakers, and worried myself into insomnia.

And you know what? I enjoyed it! While I don't plan to run another conference for at least a decade, it was interesting to get a close-up at the inside of the conference business. I'll never look at a conference the same way again. It's a lot like running a library, with a big focus on service, intellectual content, and a host of details about the facility or facilities. It works, or doesn't work, depending upon how well you pick your people. I picked some good ones.

And I also had a chance to touch base again with two of the more influential people in my professional career: Michael Gorman, Dean of Libraries for University of Southern California-Fresno, and Will Manley, director of the Tempe Public Library in Arizona. They're both famous librarians -- which means, of course, that nobody but librarians knows about them. Fame is relative.

But by the end of the conference, I was proud of my profession, glad to have been of use, and amazed by the sheer diligence, passion, and intelligence of my colleagues.

Now I'm ready for year two, CLA President.

So what dishes need washing in your professional life? Could it be your turn?

October 21, 1998 - Buying a Car

Most of the time I drive an utterly distinctive 1978 Datsun. It satisfies all my requirements for a car: it starts (except the time I filled the tank with Diesel fuel), it moves, and it stops.

But recently, our family car, a 1990 Plymouth Acclaim, had one trouble too many. In 8 years it had required us to replace the head gasket not once, but twice. Finally, we put a rebuilt engine in it. Then the electrical panel failed. Then the heater and air conditioning unit failed. Then we had to spring for a couple of expensive brake jobs.

On the day the transmission failed, we said, "That's it!" We gave it to the Big Brothers, providing that they came and hauled it away. I hope they won't hate us for it.

But then we needed a new family car, and I find that my standards for my loved ones call for something better than a 20 year old Datsun.

My wife is very active, trekking kids not only around the county, but all up and down the Front Range, with the occasional cross-county trek. We needed something safe, comfortable for long trips, with enough power to move up and down hills at highway speeds.

For some men, I realize this would be a masculinity crisis. Yes, I'm talking "minivan." Of course, I was thinking V-6.

But I'll be honest. The power of the engine wasn't as big a deal to me as something else: reliability. I am not mechanically inclined, I will never be mechanically inclined, and I deeply resent having to parade my ignorance in front of those who ARE mechanically inclined. I wanted a car that was as close to maintenance free as possible.

So I turned to the library to do something I've mentioned in this column many times: consumer research.

I started by looking on the library web site, where I connected to "SearchBank" -- a database of some 600 of the most popular general interest magazines. I typed in phrases like "best car for family." Then I narrowed the matches to full-text articles, so I could read the reviews right on the screen. I learned about everything from handling to consumer satisfaction surveys.
The library reference section also has a number of car buying guides. I pawed through those.

I also spent some time at several free web sites. The two I found most useful were Edmunds (www.edmunds.com) and the Kelly Blue Book (www.kbb.com). These sites not only rated the various cars according to many factors (what's new in that model year, warranties, insurance costs, etc.), but also provided dealer invoices. That meant I could find out just exactly what a local dealer had paid for a car, with any options I wanted.

Along the way, I discovered something else. If you belong to triple-A (the American Automobile Association), you have already paid for a "buyer." These buyers take care of all the dirty work, and depending upon the car, they can save you a lot of money, or just a respectable amount of money.

At any rate, thanks to library resources, I think we picked just the right vehicle for us: a 1998 Toyota Sienna minivan.

I sure hope so. It's got to last us 20 years.

October 14, 1998 - Lone Tree Library Opening

I still remember the very first time I went to a public library. I kept thinking, "What's the catch?"

First, there were more books than anybody could read in a lifetime. Second, there were people who were paid to help you FIND books precisely tailored to your interests, even if you were just a kid.

Third, they let you take most of these books (just excepting reference materials) home with you -- for free. Sure, there were fines if you didn't get things back on time. You had to pay for stuff you damaged or lost. But if you played by the rules -- and those are some mighty lax rules -- it was essentially free.

Stewart Brand, creator of the Whole Earth Catalog, wrote that "Public libraries are the only thing towns do for smart kids." I don't know as I was particularly smart, but thanks to the library, I was certainly better read.

The library had a profound effect on my understanding of the world in another way. It showed me by example that the community was looking out for me.

Today it's fashionable in some circles to think of any governmental expense as some kind of boondoggle. But from the beginning, I experienced the public library as tangible proof of the competence and good-will of the society I lived in. It was "good government." I grew up in my public library, in more ways than one; it gave me an enduring faith in the power of human achievement.

It happens that just a few days after this column hits print, I begin a year as President of the Colorado Library Association. As President-Elect this past year, I've attended a handful of library openings around the state, from the west slope to suburbia. Every time, I am thrilled all over again by the excitement of a library opening, the genuine appreciation of parents, business people, students, seniors. When I attended the grand opening of the new Montrose library, the children were lined up for two city blocks.

I like most of the libraries I see. But I'm particularly proud of the first library we've built from the ground up in the 8 years I've worked here.

So I am pleased to announce the Grand Opening on Saturday, October 24, of the Lone Tree Library. The celebration lasts from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m.

Designed by the architectural firm Humphries Poli of Denver, the building grows right out of a river bank on the corner of Lone Tree Parkway and Yosemite.

From the south, the building is a long, low wall. At the western edge, by the entrance, is a "kiva" -- an altogether distinctive, inward tilting barrel that will serve as our public meeting space. At the east end of the building is the children's reading garden.

Most staff spaces -- circulation desk, work rooms, offices, etc. -- live within a tear-drop nestled against the south wall. Heading north, the building blinks higher and higher to the sky, wider and wider to the view, culminating in commanding windows that bring in that fine, even, northern light.
On opening day, not only have we reassembled the materials of the former Oakes Mill Library and the bookmobile, but we have added over 4,000 new items. The library will also have a reference desk, CD-ROM and Internet workstations, a quiet study room, many tables and chairs, and a fireplace.

The old Oakes Mill Library had just 3,000 square feet upstairs, and about an 800 square foot meeting room downstairs. The new building has 10,000 square feet, all on one level.

I warmly invite the public to attend the opening. This is a community library, geared for families. I gratefully acknowledge the extraordinary design work of Humphries Poli, the construction expertise of Ash and White, the profoundly thoughtful involvement of Gina Woods, Library Manager, and the strong community support evident in a variety of touches throughout the building.

Please join us in this celebration. And do bring the children.