On the ballot this fall is something called Taxcut 2000. This constitutional amendment, drafted by Doug Bruce, would (among other things) reduce each item appearing on a property tax bill, throughout the state of Colorado, by $25 the first year.
Even if Douglas County residents vote against the measure, the rest of the state could pass it. If so, Douglas Public Library District would lose $2 million from its budget the first year. That's 25% of our total income.
But the proposal doesn't stop there. The following year, the tax cut rises to $50. The next year, the cut climbs again to $75. It continues from there until, at least in the case of property tax, the bill drops to zero.
Taxcut 2000 affects many entities. Among these are water and sanitation districts, fire districts, cemeteries, and metropolitan districts. Some of these districts don't assess as much as $25 on a house.
Apparently, the state is expected to pick up the difference, but there are three catches. First, the state's income will also drop (progressive cuts also apply to income and sales tax, although this might be offset by economic growth for a time). Second, the state is still subject to TABOR, and pre-existing tax limitations. The state currently has a surplus, but it can't spend it, even to bail out other services.
Third, the state can limit how much it chooses to replace from lost local revenue. With water service and fire protection on the chopping block, how much can libraries expect from dwindling state resources?
This initiative will be on the ballot this fall, just in time for the Presidential election. That means a high turn-out. Historically, that group includes some of the least informed voters. That means many people will see the measure for the first time at the ballot box.
To date, I've seen very little information about Taxcut 2000 in the media, although I've read a few of Doug Bruce's statements. That may be because Bruce's ballot language, as with TABOR, is so convoluted that nobody is sure what all the implications are.
For instance, some government entities may be able to become "enterprises" -- for instance, water districts may simply raise their fees for service, offsetting revenue losses. If so, it's hard to see how the taxpayer benefits.
In any case, that road probably isn't open to libraries. By the second year of the cut, I believe it will be impossible to maintain the current level of services. (The first year, we would probably use savings previously dedicated to capital projects. Under the threat of further cuts, of course, any further capital construction would seem irresponsible. Why build a library you can't afford to open?)
It appears that even if Douglas County residents wanted to exempt library funding from the tax cut, that is not permitted. In other words, the whole state is voting on whether to prohibit LOCAL tax efforts, the burden of which is solely supported by local residents.
Before I came to Colorado, I worked for a library that had to cut its budget by 10% for three years in a row. While that was useful training for a library administrator -- it teaches you what matters in the attempt to provide core services -- it was also excruciating.
It took ten years to build this district. It wouldn't take that long to destroy it.
Wednesday, July 26, 2000
Wednesday, July 19, 2000
July 19, 2000 - Highlands Ranch is Open
Last Saturday, July 15, marked the opening of the new Highlands Ranch Library.
I don't know if it's just that this building marks a big jump in the level of our services, or if it's that I always get intensely introspective around my birthday, but I find myself truly awed.
One of the big lessons of life is that some accomplishments take the talents of many people. As I wandered through the new building Saturday, I saw plenty of evidence of that.
One of our key players has been Pam Nissler, manager of the Highlands Ranch Lbrary. She wrote the original "program" for the building. But that program, in turn, included the dreams of the many people who attended our focus groups.
Pam's hand is everywhere obvious in the building, from her selections -- with our interior designer Pegi Culbreth Dougherty -- for fabrics and chairs ("I sat in every one of those chairs," Pam says), to the placement of tables and the angling of terminal workstations.
Then there were our architects, Humphries Poli, of Denver. Joe Poli crafted a vision of a truly civic building, a place of substance and style. Jon Koenigburg, project architect, oversaw the countless details that went into fleshing out that vision.
Our Owner's Representative, Kevin Gibbs, brought an eagle-eye to the financial matters of the project. Ed Diefendorf, Construction Superintendent, held his subcontractors to the highest possible standards of craftsmanship.
The staff of the library -- from the many people at Highlands Ranch who worked timetables for shelving installation or planned our opening events, to our Technical Services staff who filled the new space with new materials -- all brought (as usual) great enthusiasm and intelligence to all their tasks.
I'm impressed by the generosity of our public, too. The amenities of the building -- two fireplaces, reading deck furniture, various art pieces -- didn't cost taxpayers a penny. They were private donations, and they show just how valuable this building truly is to its users.
I was moved by all the volunteer support we found, too. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints provided countless free hours of helpful assistance, to name just one of the many groups that came to our aid.
I can now report with some pride that we've got a $6.7 million building that was constructed utterly without debt, paid for with cash; this money was carefully set aside over the course of four years. And barring any drastic change in public finance (more about Doug Bruce's latest proposal for a constitutional amendment next week), we have sufficient funds to operate the greatly expanded library district as well.
The project came in $300,000 under budget and on time. Even US West, at the end, did right by us, jumping in to get our connections wired before we opened. (A thanks to Kevin Watkins and Kim McCann, our technical staff, for the many miles of wiring INSIDE the building, too.)
Of course, most of the above is what we SAID we would do. We knew we had the ability to pull it off.
Nonetheless, one of the things that awed me was the sheer breadth and depth of all that human talent, culminating in a new public library. Competence is alive in the world.
The other thing that got to me was that the combined civic benevolence of Douglas County citizens has now offered to Highlands Ranch, as it did to Castle Rock, Parker, and Lone Tree, a place where its citizens, of all ages, can gather to dream, to seek solace, to build both community and individual character.
For a moment, walking through the library last Saturday and its estimated crowd of 5,000 souls, I could see the human face of the future. It looked good.
I don't know if it's just that this building marks a big jump in the level of our services, or if it's that I always get intensely introspective around my birthday, but I find myself truly awed.
One of the big lessons of life is that some accomplishments take the talents of many people. As I wandered through the new building Saturday, I saw plenty of evidence of that.
One of our key players has been Pam Nissler, manager of the Highlands Ranch Lbrary. She wrote the original "program" for the building. But that program, in turn, included the dreams of the many people who attended our focus groups.
Pam's hand is everywhere obvious in the building, from her selections -- with our interior designer Pegi Culbreth Dougherty -- for fabrics and chairs ("I sat in every one of those chairs," Pam says), to the placement of tables and the angling of terminal workstations.
Then there were our architects, Humphries Poli, of Denver. Joe Poli crafted a vision of a truly civic building, a place of substance and style. Jon Koenigburg, project architect, oversaw the countless details that went into fleshing out that vision.
Our Owner's Representative, Kevin Gibbs, brought an eagle-eye to the financial matters of the project. Ed Diefendorf, Construction Superintendent, held his subcontractors to the highest possible standards of craftsmanship.
The staff of the library -- from the many people at Highlands Ranch who worked timetables for shelving installation or planned our opening events, to our Technical Services staff who filled the new space with new materials -- all brought (as usual) great enthusiasm and intelligence to all their tasks.
I'm impressed by the generosity of our public, too. The amenities of the building -- two fireplaces, reading deck furniture, various art pieces -- didn't cost taxpayers a penny. They were private donations, and they show just how valuable this building truly is to its users.
I was moved by all the volunteer support we found, too. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints provided countless free hours of helpful assistance, to name just one of the many groups that came to our aid.
I can now report with some pride that we've got a $6.7 million building that was constructed utterly without debt, paid for with cash; this money was carefully set aside over the course of four years. And barring any drastic change in public finance (more about Doug Bruce's latest proposal for a constitutional amendment next week), we have sufficient funds to operate the greatly expanded library district as well.
The project came in $300,000 under budget and on time. Even US West, at the end, did right by us, jumping in to get our connections wired before we opened. (A thanks to Kevin Watkins and Kim McCann, our technical staff, for the many miles of wiring INSIDE the building, too.)
Of course, most of the above is what we SAID we would do. We knew we had the ability to pull it off.
Nonetheless, one of the things that awed me was the sheer breadth and depth of all that human talent, culminating in a new public library. Competence is alive in the world.
The other thing that got to me was that the combined civic benevolence of Douglas County citizens has now offered to Highlands Ranch, as it did to Castle Rock, Parker, and Lone Tree, a place where its citizens, of all ages, can gather to dream, to seek solace, to build both community and individual character.
For a moment, walking through the library last Saturday and its estimated crowd of 5,000 souls, I could see the human face of the future. It looked good.
Wednesday, July 12, 2000
July 12, 2000 - Leadership Douglas County
[This week's library column is from Claudine Perrault, manager of our Lone Tree Library. - Jamie LaRue]
On my report cards from grade school, teachers used letter codes as a simple way to share observations they had about each student, such as, "P" for "Plays well with others" or, "O" for "Outstanding Achievement in this subject." Every semester I received an "L" at the bottom of my report card, which was the code for "Demonstrates Leadership Potential."
Of course, this pleased my parents tremendously. They figured, with my grades and those comments, I would surely grow up to be a leader who made a difference. At the time, it didn't occur to either of them that my 'potential' might find its expression as a community leader.
Last Fall, my employer sent me a flyer about a new program being offered to Douglas county residents with an interest in learning more about county issues, and finding ways to make a positive difference. Although I am not a resident, it made a lot of sense for me to apply to the program, since I am employed as a public library manager in the county, working with the residents of Lone Tree and Acres Green. I could certainly do a better job at managing my branch, if I understood the issues and concerns my customers faced every day.
With the time and tuition dollar support of my organization, I applied and was accepted into the intensive 10-month leadership development program, called Leadership Douglas County. One day each month, I joined 20 other trainees to hear lectures on a single issue, then participate in panel discussions.
Our group set out to learn the give-and-take between county issues and agencies: city and county governments, transportation management, open space, education, water rights, art & culture opportunities, healthcare and public safety, and offices of economic development.
It's difficult to disassemble all the mechanisms that make a county tick, but we worked hard to identify and understand them. Sound easy? In many ways, it was. We put a lot of our program training to work in order to see the big picture and recognize the subtleties within each part.
In the end, I learned that there are so many interesting ways to make a difference. Throughout Douglas County, there are community groups quietly deciding how your resources are being managed. Some of them have leaders with vision and managers who keep everyone on task - others may need the attention of a few good volunteers.
Well, here we come! There's a graduating leadership class mobilized to get involved. Thoughtfully. In fact, at the date of this paper's publication, I will be formally graduating along with my fellow Leadership Douglas County trainees near beautiful Cherokee Ranch.
If I may take the liberty of giving letter codes to my fellow trainees, I would say that besides your clear earning of the letter "O", you guys all deserve a big, fat "P". And everyone gets an "L" for Leadership.
However, mine will be on double duty, as I'll be using my "L" for both Community and Library Leadership.
___________
Claudine Perrault is a member of Leadership Douglas County, an innovative 1-year program that develops leaders for effective community service. If you would like to make a difference in Douglas County, submit an application to LDC at the Castle Rock Chamber of Commerce.
On my report cards from grade school, teachers used letter codes as a simple way to share observations they had about each student, such as, "P" for "Plays well with others" or, "O" for "Outstanding Achievement in this subject." Every semester I received an "L" at the bottom of my report card, which was the code for "Demonstrates Leadership Potential."
Of course, this pleased my parents tremendously. They figured, with my grades and those comments, I would surely grow up to be a leader who made a difference. At the time, it didn't occur to either of them that my 'potential' might find its expression as a community leader.
Last Fall, my employer sent me a flyer about a new program being offered to Douglas county residents with an interest in learning more about county issues, and finding ways to make a positive difference. Although I am not a resident, it made a lot of sense for me to apply to the program, since I am employed as a public library manager in the county, working with the residents of Lone Tree and Acres Green. I could certainly do a better job at managing my branch, if I understood the issues and concerns my customers faced every day.
With the time and tuition dollar support of my organization, I applied and was accepted into the intensive 10-month leadership development program, called Leadership Douglas County. One day each month, I joined 20 other trainees to hear lectures on a single issue, then participate in panel discussions.
Our group set out to learn the give-and-take between county issues and agencies: city and county governments, transportation management, open space, education, water rights, art & culture opportunities, healthcare and public safety, and offices of economic development.
It's difficult to disassemble all the mechanisms that make a county tick, but we worked hard to identify and understand them. Sound easy? In many ways, it was. We put a lot of our program training to work in order to see the big picture and recognize the subtleties within each part.
In the end, I learned that there are so many interesting ways to make a difference. Throughout Douglas County, there are community groups quietly deciding how your resources are being managed. Some of them have leaders with vision and managers who keep everyone on task - others may need the attention of a few good volunteers.
Well, here we come! There's a graduating leadership class mobilized to get involved. Thoughtfully. In fact, at the date of this paper's publication, I will be formally graduating along with my fellow Leadership Douglas County trainees near beautiful Cherokee Ranch.
If I may take the liberty of giving letter codes to my fellow trainees, I would say that besides your clear earning of the letter "O", you guys all deserve a big, fat "P". And everyone gets an "L" for Leadership.
However, mine will be on double duty, as I'll be using my "L" for both Community and Library Leadership.
___________
Claudine Perrault is a member of Leadership Douglas County, an innovative 1-year program that develops leaders for effective community service. If you would like to make a difference in Douglas County, submit an application to LDC at the Castle Rock Chamber of Commerce.
Wednesday, July 5, 2000
July 5, 2000 - The Future of the Book Revisited
I keep coming back to this subject: the future of the book. Why?
For one thing, it's because books are so important to me. I care about what might happen to and with them.
For another, books are a big part of our business -- still somewhere around 85% of everything that people check out.
For yet another, in at least one area, I'm seeing a decline in the use of books. Just 5 years ago, a good 7 out of 10 reference questions got answered from print sources. Now at least that many get answered through electronic resources, either commercial, or free on the web. That's a trend, and I'm supposed to keep track of things like that.
But the factor I'd like to explore this week is the changing marketplace, particularly in the area of e-books and handheld devices.
Most people who have instinctive resistance to the idea of electronic books start in the same place. They like the smell of books, the high definition of typography, the feel of paper and buckram bindings. None of these things survives the translation to LCD screen.
As I've written before, the beauty of the book is that it employs "surface technology" -- you don't need anything but one working hand and eye to use it. (In a pinch, you might also need a candle and matches.) The batteries never go dead. You don't need plugs.
Books, particularly paperbacks, are light, portable, and relatively cheap.
I'll admit that something like a handheld computer -- even my own Palm Pilot -- is dependent on batteries. It's also handy to have a stylus around -- the "pen" used to navigate and write things down.
Yet it is also very portable -- more portable than a paperback, because I can strap the Palm Pilot right onto my belt. And given sufficient storage space or memory, I can cram more books into such a device than I can fit in a backpack, briefcase, or suitcase.
Recently I sent Holly Deni, my Associate Director for Support Services, off to a conference with a Rocket eBook -- an electronic book reader slightly smaller than a hardback book.
She returned a convert. Despite the fact that the resolution on the screen is not as good as ink on paper, there were many advantages. She could set the book down and just touch it to turn the page; she didn't have to hold it open. Because the screen is backlit, she could read it in the dark. With four or five books in one small package, she found it easier to carry books around with her. Bottom line: she read more, with less hassle.
Some libraries have played with offering Rocket eBook services: check out a device with the Romance or Mystery package preinstalled, and have a lovely vacation!
Lately, I've been experimenting with my little organizer. I've got the older version, so can't squeeze much into it. But at www.memoware.com I found all kinds of free texts to download, many of the them from the Gutenberg Project. I've got the whole Tao te Ching on my Palm Pilot now. I also found a couple of free programs that let me do most of what I can do with a Rocketbook -- CSpotRun (from www.palmgear.com) and Peanut Reader (from www.peanutpress.com).
I also discovered a terrific utility on the web that lets you type in a URL (web location) and in just a few moments, get the Palm version of the page sitting on your desktop (pilot.screwdriver.net). This is a great way to grab, for instance, what's up at the library this week (douglas.lib.co.us/calendar.html).
To my surprise, yes, I can read quite comfortably, even on my tiny little screen. The device disappears. I focus on the content.
The library is a subscriber to netLibrary, which puts many current books online (although we've so far stuck to non-fiction). You have to be on the web to use it, but you get the full text of a book, with pictures, tables of contents, and indexes. To date, few of our patrons have used it. They will, though, maybe when we find a better way to move the text from the web to some more portable device.
I still don't think that ebooks will run print out of business. Each has its uses, its niche.
It's clear that ebooks, both the content and the devices, are finally finding their markets. Ultimately, it all goes back to this: if the ebook makes it easier for people to read, more convenient or more likely, then I'm all for it.
For one thing, it's because books are so important to me. I care about what might happen to and with them.
For another, books are a big part of our business -- still somewhere around 85% of everything that people check out.
For yet another, in at least one area, I'm seeing a decline in the use of books. Just 5 years ago, a good 7 out of 10 reference questions got answered from print sources. Now at least that many get answered through electronic resources, either commercial, or free on the web. That's a trend, and I'm supposed to keep track of things like that.
But the factor I'd like to explore this week is the changing marketplace, particularly in the area of e-books and handheld devices.
Most people who have instinctive resistance to the idea of electronic books start in the same place. They like the smell of books, the high definition of typography, the feel of paper and buckram bindings. None of these things survives the translation to LCD screen.
As I've written before, the beauty of the book is that it employs "surface technology" -- you don't need anything but one working hand and eye to use it. (In a pinch, you might also need a candle and matches.) The batteries never go dead. You don't need plugs.
Books, particularly paperbacks, are light, portable, and relatively cheap.
I'll admit that something like a handheld computer -- even my own Palm Pilot -- is dependent on batteries. It's also handy to have a stylus around -- the "pen" used to navigate and write things down.
Yet it is also very portable -- more portable than a paperback, because I can strap the Palm Pilot right onto my belt. And given sufficient storage space or memory, I can cram more books into such a device than I can fit in a backpack, briefcase, or suitcase.
Recently I sent Holly Deni, my Associate Director for Support Services, off to a conference with a Rocket eBook -- an electronic book reader slightly smaller than a hardback book.
She returned a convert. Despite the fact that the resolution on the screen is not as good as ink on paper, there were many advantages. She could set the book down and just touch it to turn the page; she didn't have to hold it open. Because the screen is backlit, she could read it in the dark. With four or five books in one small package, she found it easier to carry books around with her. Bottom line: she read more, with less hassle.
Some libraries have played with offering Rocket eBook services: check out a device with the Romance or Mystery package preinstalled, and have a lovely vacation!
Lately, I've been experimenting with my little organizer. I've got the older version, so can't squeeze much into it. But at www.memoware.com I found all kinds of free texts to download, many of the them from the Gutenberg Project. I've got the whole Tao te Ching on my Palm Pilot now. I also found a couple of free programs that let me do most of what I can do with a Rocketbook -- CSpotRun (from www.palmgear.com) and Peanut Reader (from www.peanutpress.com).
I also discovered a terrific utility on the web that lets you type in a URL (web location) and in just a few moments, get the Palm version of the page sitting on your desktop (pilot.screwdriver.net). This is a great way to grab, for instance, what's up at the library this week (douglas.lib.co.us/calendar.html).
To my surprise, yes, I can read quite comfortably, even on my tiny little screen. The device disappears. I focus on the content.
The library is a subscriber to netLibrary, which puts many current books online (although we've so far stuck to non-fiction). You have to be on the web to use it, but you get the full text of a book, with pictures, tables of contents, and indexes. To date, few of our patrons have used it. They will, though, maybe when we find a better way to move the text from the web to some more portable device.
I still don't think that ebooks will run print out of business. Each has its uses, its niche.
It's clear that ebooks, both the content and the devices, are finally finding their markets. Ultimately, it all goes back to this: if the ebook makes it easier for people to read, more convenient or more likely, then I'm all for it.
Wednesday, June 28, 2000
June 28, 2000 - US West Troubles
It's easy to get hooked.
Ask anybody who used to be on a party line. At first, a phone was just a sort of insurance policy, a hedge against disaster -- a fire, a medical emergency. Then it became a convenience. Then, people learned they could listen in on community gossip. Before long, it got easier and easier to stay on the line.
Eventually, the infrastructure got big enough, got sophisticated enough, to let everyone have a private phone line, to the general impoverishment of the rumor mill.
These days, not only do most people have private phones, they have multiple personal phones: cell phones, faxes, pagers, wireless Internet connections, and on and on.
You've seen them, parading their dependencies on the highway. I've sat next to people in restaurants who shouted at their phones all through lunch. I read in Dear Abby about a guy who carried his cell phone conversation into the men's room and back.
A couple of weeks ago, I sat in front of a woman whose cell phone went off during the middle of a play. The same night, another guy had the semi-conscious decency to make his call from the back of the theater.
US West is clearly doing a booming business. At least once or twice a week, I get a come-on for some service -- a new line at home, a new service at work.
That's one of the things that frustrates me. The Douglas Public Library District, fairly frequently, orders some of these services. They're not cheap, either. We spend roughly $50,000 a year with US West.
But that's not what frustrates me. What frustrates me is the apparent inability of US West to reliably deliver on the day they told us we could have it the same service they so aggressively marketed.
To be fair, on two occasions they have in fact showed up on the day they said they would, and done the job we paid them for: the installation of a new T-1 line. I'm grateful. Really.
I wish it happened more often. At our Parker Library, some years ago now, we let US West know, weekly, that we were closing our old branch and moving to a new location. We needed a new digital line to replace the old one, a line running to our Philip S. Miller Library in Castle Rock. And every week, for the six months we did this, we were assured that everything was in order, confirmed and scheduled.
Until, of course, the day that the installation was to happen. Then, we were informed that no such order record existed in the system. Did we wish to place an order?
After some six hours of calls routed to Minnesota (for my convenience, I was told), somebody finally showed up -- with orders to connect the new library to the library we had just moved out of. It took another couple of hours to straighten that out, and a much harried but intelligent installer finally got the job done. Actual work time: 20 minutes.
The kicker to the story is that I got a very polite call, some three weeks later, asking me if I could please tell him just what, exactly, US West had done for us. My response was a model of self-restraint.
My frustration now concerns Highlands Ranch. We let US West know, once again well in advance of our need, that we wanted a T-1 line. We took the date they gave us, then tried to work, quietly, to move the date up, in order to check in the tens of thousands of books that have to be processed before we can open our new library. I didn't have much hope for that, but we tried. We failed.
Then the original day for installation came and ... surprise! Their system now shows at least two installation dates, one of them a month after the library opens. The one thing I do not want, although I've heard several entertaining if convoluted attempts to give one, is an explanation.
In brief, we are dependent on certain services -- checkout stations, Internet terminals, etc. These services, in turn, are all dependent upon US West. There is no alternative provider. The library district is paying people who cannot do essential library tasks because the phone company can't or won't install the service it sold us. Again.
It's easy to get hooked. It sure is hard to get hooked up.
Ask anybody who used to be on a party line. At first, a phone was just a sort of insurance policy, a hedge against disaster -- a fire, a medical emergency. Then it became a convenience. Then, people learned they could listen in on community gossip. Before long, it got easier and easier to stay on the line.
Eventually, the infrastructure got big enough, got sophisticated enough, to let everyone have a private phone line, to the general impoverishment of the rumor mill.
These days, not only do most people have private phones, they have multiple personal phones: cell phones, faxes, pagers, wireless Internet connections, and on and on.
You've seen them, parading their dependencies on the highway. I've sat next to people in restaurants who shouted at their phones all through lunch. I read in Dear Abby about a guy who carried his cell phone conversation into the men's room and back.
A couple of weeks ago, I sat in front of a woman whose cell phone went off during the middle of a play. The same night, another guy had the semi-conscious decency to make his call from the back of the theater.
US West is clearly doing a booming business. At least once or twice a week, I get a come-on for some service -- a new line at home, a new service at work.
That's one of the things that frustrates me. The Douglas Public Library District, fairly frequently, orders some of these services. They're not cheap, either. We spend roughly $50,000 a year with US West.
But that's not what frustrates me. What frustrates me is the apparent inability of US West to reliably deliver on the day they told us we could have it the same service they so aggressively marketed.
To be fair, on two occasions they have in fact showed up on the day they said they would, and done the job we paid them for: the installation of a new T-1 line. I'm grateful. Really.
I wish it happened more often. At our Parker Library, some years ago now, we let US West know, weekly, that we were closing our old branch and moving to a new location. We needed a new digital line to replace the old one, a line running to our Philip S. Miller Library in Castle Rock. And every week, for the six months we did this, we were assured that everything was in order, confirmed and scheduled.
Until, of course, the day that the installation was to happen. Then, we were informed that no such order record existed in the system. Did we wish to place an order?
After some six hours of calls routed to Minnesota (for my convenience, I was told), somebody finally showed up -- with orders to connect the new library to the library we had just moved out of. It took another couple of hours to straighten that out, and a much harried but intelligent installer finally got the job done. Actual work time: 20 minutes.
The kicker to the story is that I got a very polite call, some three weeks later, asking me if I could please tell him just what, exactly, US West had done for us. My response was a model of self-restraint.
My frustration now concerns Highlands Ranch. We let US West know, once again well in advance of our need, that we wanted a T-1 line. We took the date they gave us, then tried to work, quietly, to move the date up, in order to check in the tens of thousands of books that have to be processed before we can open our new library. I didn't have much hope for that, but we tried. We failed.
Then the original day for installation came and ... surprise! Their system now shows at least two installation dates, one of them a month after the library opens. The one thing I do not want, although I've heard several entertaining if convoluted attempts to give one, is an explanation.
In brief, we are dependent on certain services -- checkout stations, Internet terminals, etc. These services, in turn, are all dependent upon US West. There is no alternative provider. The library district is paying people who cannot do essential library tasks because the phone company can't or won't install the service it sold us. Again.
It's easy to get hooked. It sure is hard to get hooked up.
Wednesday, June 21, 2000
June 21, 2000 - Highlands Ranch Grand Opening
As you may have seen in one of our press releases, the Highlands Ranch Library that has been operating from the storefront on West Springer Drive closed on June 12, 2000. It will reopen at its new location (9292 Ridgeline, south of the Safeway shopping center at Highlands Ranch Parkway and Broadway) on July 15. Our Grand Opening begins sharply at noon.
First up will be a round of short speeches. We'll hear from Maren Francis, President of the Board of Trustees. State Senator John Evans, a long time library friend, will be there. Joyce Meskis, owner of the Tattered Cover Bookstore, will also speak. (Her first bookstore, incidentally, was right here in Douglas County.) Our Master of Ceremonies is the well-known Ed Greene, of Channel 9 News.
After several public "commencement exercises," our patron will have the choice of a variety of activities and diversions, running from noon to 5 p.m.:
-outside, free hot dogs and soft drinks;
-Sneezles the Clown;
-regular guided tours of our stunning new building, using a -new package of "docent" materials;
-hourly puppet shows for the kids in our new children's room, which is, all by itself, almost the size of our old Highlands Ranch Library;
-a Highlands Ranch business expo, up in our new business library on the second floor; and
-many, many more new materials than we could squeeze into the old building.
Then we'll close down for a couple of hours. But come back! From 7 to 10 p.m. we'll have a street dance in the library's parking lot, featuring area favorites, the Nacho Men. Conditions permitting, we may also end the day with a brief show of fireworks.
On Sunday, the following day, we'll resume our normal library hours: noon to five on Sundays, 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. on Saturdays.
The opening of this new library, which at 42,000 square feet is over twice the size of our next largest building, is a big deal not only for Highlands Ranch residents, but for the entire Douglas Public Library District. For most of the history of the county's libraries, most of our books have been housed in Castle Rock and Parker. Thanks to our 6 day a week courier system, we've managed to move those books around pretty quickly. But the simple lack of space kept us from keeping up with the demand for new materials where the demand was often greatest.
Now that we've got the space, we will be able to build a high enough item count for each area of county so that the odds of actually finding what you want, right there on the shelf, should go up considerably. This benefits not just the residents of Highlands Ranch, but everyone else in Douglas County.
Aside from the practical benefits of more retail space for library materials, I am most proud of what many players have managed to accomplish together.
Highlands Ranch has seen residential development. In more recent years, it has also seen commercial development. As the first public building in the new Town Center, the library sets some expectations for what is to follow for all CIVIC structures.
We were fortunate in this endeavor to have access to some of the best thinking of our community. Thoughtful people from Shea Homes, the HRCA Design Review Committee, the Highlands Ranch Metropolitan District, not to mention our own library Board, and the experience of our staff, all contributed to a place that defines a new phase of development.
I'm particularly grateful for the hard work and intelligence that all of our Highlands Ranch Library staff have put into the complex job of getting the new building ready for business.
It takes about two years to build a great library: a year to think it all through, and a year to build it. I'm pleased to report that the project is coming in well under budget, due in part to many donors, whose contributions will be recognized in the building.
But I'm most pleased about something else: we're not just building a library, we're building a community. And I can think of no more tangible sign of a community's commitment to culture, its consciousness of the past, and its commitment to the future, than the opening of a library.
First up will be a round of short speeches. We'll hear from Maren Francis, President of the Board of Trustees. State Senator John Evans, a long time library friend, will be there. Joyce Meskis, owner of the Tattered Cover Bookstore, will also speak. (Her first bookstore, incidentally, was right here in Douglas County.) Our Master of Ceremonies is the well-known Ed Greene, of Channel 9 News.
After several public "commencement exercises," our patron will have the choice of a variety of activities and diversions, running from noon to 5 p.m.:
-outside, free hot dogs and soft drinks;
-Sneezles the Clown;
-regular guided tours of our stunning new building, using a -new package of "docent" materials;
-hourly puppet shows for the kids in our new children's room, which is, all by itself, almost the size of our old Highlands Ranch Library;
-a Highlands Ranch business expo, up in our new business library on the second floor; and
-many, many more new materials than we could squeeze into the old building.
Then we'll close down for a couple of hours. But come back! From 7 to 10 p.m. we'll have a street dance in the library's parking lot, featuring area favorites, the Nacho Men. Conditions permitting, we may also end the day with a brief show of fireworks.
On Sunday, the following day, we'll resume our normal library hours: noon to five on Sundays, 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. on Saturdays.
The opening of this new library, which at 42,000 square feet is over twice the size of our next largest building, is a big deal not only for Highlands Ranch residents, but for the entire Douglas Public Library District. For most of the history of the county's libraries, most of our books have been housed in Castle Rock and Parker. Thanks to our 6 day a week courier system, we've managed to move those books around pretty quickly. But the simple lack of space kept us from keeping up with the demand for new materials where the demand was often greatest.
Now that we've got the space, we will be able to build a high enough item count for each area of county so that the odds of actually finding what you want, right there on the shelf, should go up considerably. This benefits not just the residents of Highlands Ranch, but everyone else in Douglas County.
Aside from the practical benefits of more retail space for library materials, I am most proud of what many players have managed to accomplish together.
Highlands Ranch has seen residential development. In more recent years, it has also seen commercial development. As the first public building in the new Town Center, the library sets some expectations for what is to follow for all CIVIC structures.
We were fortunate in this endeavor to have access to some of the best thinking of our community. Thoughtful people from Shea Homes, the HRCA Design Review Committee, the Highlands Ranch Metropolitan District, not to mention our own library Board, and the experience of our staff, all contributed to a place that defines a new phase of development.
I'm particularly grateful for the hard work and intelligence that all of our Highlands Ranch Library staff have put into the complex job of getting the new building ready for business.
It takes about two years to build a great library: a year to think it all through, and a year to build it. I'm pleased to report that the project is coming in well under budget, due in part to many donors, whose contributions will be recognized in the building.
But I'm most pleased about something else: we're not just building a library, we're building a community. And I can think of no more tangible sign of a community's commitment to culture, its consciousness of the past, and its commitment to the future, than the opening of a library.
Wednesday, June 14, 2000
June 14, 2000 - Kids and Guns
It's one of my earliest memories. I was four years old. It was a late summer afternoon, and I was playing in my front yard. By and by, I saw the paper boy approach, and waved at him.
I had always kind of admired our paper boy. His name was Robert Lindbergh. He was about 13, and he lived just down the street from me.
Now you have to understand that in those days my most prominent feature was my ears. Since then, I've grown into them, much the way a puppy grows into its paws. But back then I was often described, not kindly, as a "taxicab with both doors open."
On this particular day, Lindbergh saw me, then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a switchblade, and flicked it open. With an evil grin, he said, "I'm gonna cut your ears off!"
I don't think I wet my pants. But I do remember going rigid with terror. He strutted right in front of the house, tossed the paper onto our porch, and ... passed on. Then he stopped and looked at me again over his shoulder. "Yep. Tomorrow. I'm gonna cut your ears off."
This scene repeated itself over the course of several weeks. It gave me nightmares. Sometimes I'd hide from him. Sometimes I'd jump up and run into the house as soon as I saw him. But every time he saw me, he'd flick his switchblade and say, "I'm gonna cut your ears off."
Then, one day, I got an idea. I remembered that my father had a shotgun in his closet. So about an hour before the paper came one day, I fetched the gun, and set it alongside the porch. Then I sat there, waiting.
Finally, Lindbergh came into view. Like playing some well-rehearsed role, he snapped open the switchblade. I watched him calmly. He came just to the end of our walk and said, "I'm gonna cut your ears off."
I picked up my father's gun. I pointed it at the paper boy. "I'm gonna shoot your head off," I said.
Lindbergh turned white. He dropped his papers. After a moment of agonizing indecision, he turned and ran.
I sat there on the porch for about half an hour, just me and the gun and the scattered pile of papers. Then I put my dad's gun back in the closet.
Not long after that, my father abruptly came home early from work and consulted my mother. He went into his room, came out with the gun, and left again.
Later that night, my mother asked me if I had pointed a gun at the Lindbergh boy. I said I had. "Why?" she asked. "Because he said he was going to cut my ears off with a knife."
Well, I never saw that gun again. I never saw Lindbergh's switchblade again, either. He was still our paper boy, but he wouldn't talk to me anymore.
Incidentally, I believe he grew up to be a nice guy. Like another Lindbergh, he took up flying. I seem to recall that he was one of the youngest people ever to get a license to fly a plane. Fifteen, I think.
I think I grew up OK, too.
There are lots of things I wonder about now. Why didn't I ever tell my parents that I was being terrorized? For that matter, how was a four year old able to sit on the porch for an hour and a half, with a shotgun, and nobody noticed?
I don't remember. Lindbergh was just one of the many incomprehensible monsters of childhood. To the grown-ups, I'm sure I was just playing in the front yard, in what they truly believed to be a perfectly safe neighborhood. My parents weren't neglectful, they were just busy with their own stuff.
Why did I think of the gun in the first place? I suspect I got the idea from Westerns. Pretty much every night, on our little black and white TV, we watched Gunsmoke, or Gunslinger, or The Rebel, or Bonanza, or Have Gun Will Travel, or the Lone Ranger, or Roy Rogers. I had a pair of cowboy boots, some toy guns, and a cowboy hat. The good guys, when times got tough, took action. Superior firepower seemed to help.
Was the gun loaded? I don't know. I don't think so. My dad used to hunt, and was pretty careful about things like that.
What does all this have to do with librarianship? Well, some 42 years later, I find that I am again noticing a connection between kids and guns and newspapers and graphic media. One of the tasks of libraries is to connect people with relevant information about topics of interest. Through professional channels, I recently came across the Juvenile Justice Clearinghouse's "Kids and Guns" report, available online at http://ojjdp.ncjrs.org/pubs/violvict.html#178994, a website of the Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention. The site contains a wealth of data.
A press release about this report notes that "While other types of homicides have remained constant, the number of juveniles killed with a firearm increased greatly between 1987 and 1993."
When it comes to facts like these, I'm all ears.
I had always kind of admired our paper boy. His name was Robert Lindbergh. He was about 13, and he lived just down the street from me.
Now you have to understand that in those days my most prominent feature was my ears. Since then, I've grown into them, much the way a puppy grows into its paws. But back then I was often described, not kindly, as a "taxicab with both doors open."
On this particular day, Lindbergh saw me, then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a switchblade, and flicked it open. With an evil grin, he said, "I'm gonna cut your ears off!"
I don't think I wet my pants. But I do remember going rigid with terror. He strutted right in front of the house, tossed the paper onto our porch, and ... passed on. Then he stopped and looked at me again over his shoulder. "Yep. Tomorrow. I'm gonna cut your ears off."
This scene repeated itself over the course of several weeks. It gave me nightmares. Sometimes I'd hide from him. Sometimes I'd jump up and run into the house as soon as I saw him. But every time he saw me, he'd flick his switchblade and say, "I'm gonna cut your ears off."
Then, one day, I got an idea. I remembered that my father had a shotgun in his closet. So about an hour before the paper came one day, I fetched the gun, and set it alongside the porch. Then I sat there, waiting.
Finally, Lindbergh came into view. Like playing some well-rehearsed role, he snapped open the switchblade. I watched him calmly. He came just to the end of our walk and said, "I'm gonna cut your ears off."
I picked up my father's gun. I pointed it at the paper boy. "I'm gonna shoot your head off," I said.
Lindbergh turned white. He dropped his papers. After a moment of agonizing indecision, he turned and ran.
I sat there on the porch for about half an hour, just me and the gun and the scattered pile of papers. Then I put my dad's gun back in the closet.
Not long after that, my father abruptly came home early from work and consulted my mother. He went into his room, came out with the gun, and left again.
Later that night, my mother asked me if I had pointed a gun at the Lindbergh boy. I said I had. "Why?" she asked. "Because he said he was going to cut my ears off with a knife."
Well, I never saw that gun again. I never saw Lindbergh's switchblade again, either. He was still our paper boy, but he wouldn't talk to me anymore.
Incidentally, I believe he grew up to be a nice guy. Like another Lindbergh, he took up flying. I seem to recall that he was one of the youngest people ever to get a license to fly a plane. Fifteen, I think.
I think I grew up OK, too.
There are lots of things I wonder about now. Why didn't I ever tell my parents that I was being terrorized? For that matter, how was a four year old able to sit on the porch for an hour and a half, with a shotgun, and nobody noticed?
I don't remember. Lindbergh was just one of the many incomprehensible monsters of childhood. To the grown-ups, I'm sure I was just playing in the front yard, in what they truly believed to be a perfectly safe neighborhood. My parents weren't neglectful, they were just busy with their own stuff.
Why did I think of the gun in the first place? I suspect I got the idea from Westerns. Pretty much every night, on our little black and white TV, we watched Gunsmoke, or Gunslinger, or The Rebel, or Bonanza, or Have Gun Will Travel, or the Lone Ranger, or Roy Rogers. I had a pair of cowboy boots, some toy guns, and a cowboy hat. The good guys, when times got tough, took action. Superior firepower seemed to help.
Was the gun loaded? I don't know. I don't think so. My dad used to hunt, and was pretty careful about things like that.
What does all this have to do with librarianship? Well, some 42 years later, I find that I am again noticing a connection between kids and guns and newspapers and graphic media. One of the tasks of libraries is to connect people with relevant information about topics of interest. Through professional channels, I recently came across the Juvenile Justice Clearinghouse's "Kids and Guns" report, available online at http://ojjdp.ncjrs.org/pubs/violvict.html#178994, a website of the Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention. The site contains a wealth of data.
A press release about this report notes that "While other types of homicides have remained constant, the number of juveniles killed with a firearm increased greatly between 1987 and 1993."
When it comes to facts like these, I'm all ears.
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