Posted by
ScarletPimpernel on Wednesday, April 09, 2008 7:45:08 PM
Librarians are indoor people (except those who "rock!" - whatever that means). If you had to gather 7,000 of 'em in winter time, where would you put 'em? That's right, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Land of Milk and Cheese and More Cheese. I went up there with a dozen of my cohorts to the Public Library Association's Convention. I know; you're sitting there steaming with envy but it was not as glamorous as it seems. Although, professionally speaking, it was kind of interesting. At least I got out of work for a week.
I flew up on a Tuesday from "The World's Busiest Airport" - Hartsfield/Jackson in Atlanta, GA. It took me an hour from the time my wife dropped me off until I was sitting in a hard plastic seat among a Swedish family of nine at the gate (that's how I knew I was at the right gate). The flight to Minneapolis was relatively crash-free which is nice. And yes, I was seated in the middle between a hefty man who smelled like a hefty man and a middle-aged woman who I was not sure whether she was a rabid feminist or a just a run of the mill man hater. Fret not, friends, I was pleasant to them both. I took out my scholarly book on the Gospel of Mathew and they both found something better to do in a hurry. Ironically - an airplane is not really a good place to try to study up on the gospels. One's mind wanders to more important things like making sure you get a whole can of Diet Coke and what you'll have for dinner as soon as you get off this plane. I did say a good sound prayer before takeoff you can believe that.
As we flew out of Georgia, the hills gradually disappeared. After 90 minutes of flying all I could see were geometrically squared shapes of farmland and frozen ponds. I looked hard for kids playing hockey but that could just be a myth. Flying over America always fills me with appreciation for our people. I just love that we are all connected no matter where we live. We landed at the Humphrey Terminal which I guess is named after Hubert Humphrey, the last decent and smart politician from Minnesota (even though he was born and reared in South Dakota). This airport was much smaller and it took only 15 minutes to get through. I got a taste of the delightful Minnesota accent when our van driver, Hasim, picked us up. He said he was from Somalia, which I guess is in east Minnesota. Funny, I never thought Minnesotans would sound like an Indiana Jones sidekick. Huh.
We made it to the hotel which was actually pretty nice, considering we're on the public dole. I recommend it to all: The Holiday Inn Metrodome. My roommate was a younger guy, about 25ish. I figured I'd be polite and see if he wanted to go get some lunch. Surprisingly, he was raring to go to the convention center and meet up with a bunch of older ladies who we flew up with. I worry about that boy. "Have at it" I told him. I was a bit under the weather and was pretty tired by the middle of the afternoon when we got there. No convention yet for me.
I looked down on the street scene from the window of the hotel room. I'm not kidding, there is a bar on every corner in Minneapolis. I looked out at the sky and understood. It was another cold gray overcast day way up in Minnesota. Folks probably drink a lot here. I'd hate to be a dentist here. Also, from my window I could see part of the bridge that collapsed and which they were now rebuilding. That made me somber. Then I saw the Metrodome and some classroom buildings from the University of Minnesota. That made me happy. I ended up eating at Quiznos across the street. You know, they didn't have a meatball sub? For some reason, that concerned me. I went back to the hotel, took some cold medicine, and fell asleep for several hours. My roommate came in pretty late as I expected a young man to do. He talks in his sleep and, thankfully, I couldn't make out what he said.
On Wednesday morning, I was up early, went to the workout room and ran several miles. On the 14th floor, they have a workout room on one side and a pool and jacuzzi on the other side. The rooms have giant windows with a great view of the city. I liked it up there. I made it my morning prayer and study room. I grabbed the Gideons Bible which I knew would be in the bedside stand; carried three carefully balanced paper cups full of hotel coffee and sat at the glass and metal poolside table and reflected on things. Very tranquil.
I had a class on Wednesday that I had to go to and it was pretty fun and informative. It was a class on how to have fun while managing. Right. I did feel relieved to find out that some people problems are universal. When one of the instructors asked the group of 250 librarians to name traits of a perfect employee the usual came out: self-motivated, autonomous, team player etc. The best one was "Emotionally mature!" That brought a good laugh. I attended with two other ladies from our library system and we sat with two other ladies. One was from Tacoma Washington and the other was from South Dakota. Or North Dakota. I always get those mixed up. Anyway it was a pleasant morning.
The convention was held at the Minneapolis Convention Center which is gigantic. I mean colossal. There was a huge space for exhibits from companies who service libraries. There were other areas for "Talking Tables" whatever that is. I didn't go to those. And the many classrooms, auditoriums, and meeting rooms were filled with people learning something from other library systems. Had I been a weaker man I would have gained 5 lbs since each vendor had a bowl of sweet treats. And they try to give you material to take back to the money people at your library. I tried to score some cool books but they said I had to wait til the last day to get them. Just as well. I intentionally did not want to be one of those people lugging around 50lbs of stuff. At the Convention Center, the FedEx office was jammed with librarians paying good money to send books back home which they already had in their collection. The only books I would consider getting would be those I planned on reading more than once. Not sure why these other folks would take just to be taking.
Each day I went to at least two of the classes and milled about talking to librarians from other states. I think I ran into only two from South Carolina and two from Maryland. Everyone else was from the same latitude as Murmansk, Russia. Very nice people and we had nice conversations about how to attract teens to come to the library (I'm against it); Dewey vs. Barnes and Noble style catagorizing; money for collections; etc. All very librarianny. Lots of unfashionable hairdos, book bags and fanny packs were in the house.
So my cohorts catch me and we decide to go to lunch. They said let's go to the Newsroom which, apparently, is a famous restaurant. "It's just a few blocks off of Hyatt." says one librarian. "You mean outside?" I asked. "Sure, outside. How else are we gonna get there?" another librarian pitched in. "But it's Minnesota out there." I said, real concern in my voice. "Instead, let's use the convenient SkyWalk system which covers 8 square miles of downtown and is all indoors and passes by lots of restaurants and other customer pleasing stores with nicely priced sundry items that make great gifts." I countered. They all laughed. So, as a last resort, I pulled out my knit hat which I had to refer to as a "Tuke" (Took?) since I was so far north of the Mason-Dixon line. I don't like to wear knit hats if I'm wearing office clothes. But then I remembered "I'm in Minnesota and I'm surrounded by librarians. It's okay to look like a dork!" We go out onto the avenue, the others razzing me about being a wuss cause of the weather. "We'll see" I thought to myself. I wore layers. I wore a tank tee shirt, a regular tee shirt, a heavy mock turtle neck and a heavy sweater. And my tuke. The first block was all fun and games but the next 3 sure made those jokers quiet. Wind. Cold cold Minnesota winter wind. Spring had not sprung in the city.
Lunch was delicious if overpriced. I schmoozed with some of our library bigwigs. Diet coke squirted out of my nose when someone mentioned that we should go to a jazz club. "Jazz and Minnesota?" I wondered. It did not compute. Sure, some funky cool cats like Prince, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Walter Mondale hailed from Minnesota but jazz? It turns out that Minneapolis has quite a few jazz clubs, some of them nationally acclaimed. Who'dda thunk it? I politely declined.
Why would I turn down a night on the town with my co-workers in glamourous Minneapolis? Several reasons. 1. They're my co-workers. 2. Someone always has too many drinks and does something embarassing. 3. I'm married and have no desire to be around amateur drinkers. At least those whom I don't know too well. 4. In my previous life I had all the night life I could handle. I went to New Orleans in '99 for the American Library Association and didn't sleep in my room the whole time. Plus, I think I might have married two gals while I was there. I'm sure they're annulled by now.
So what did I do instead? The first night I was useless and slept. On Wednesday night I went downstairs to the bar and, with great discipline, ordered the Chicken Caesar Salad. And a large delicious red ale. Lindys or Linedys. Something like that. I don't drink too much anymore so it was quite a treat. I was looking over the menu when I heard my first "You betcha!". I smiled. Finally. "I'm in Minnesota" I said to myself. I talked to the friendly bartender who had uttered the mating call of the Great White North (Midwest). If you ever want to meet native Minnesotans, don't go to Minneapolis. Folks there are from other places like Iowa and North Dakota. Or South Dakota. This guy was from Wisconsin. Green Bay, Wisconsin. He said he moved to Minneapolis to improve the class of people there. We joked about the Vikings' woes and spoke reverantly about Brett Favre. Fun guy. I left and said I'd see him the next evening.
I was doing good, not pigging out and eating relatively healthy food. But Minnesota gets to you after a while - you'll start eating heavy foods and snacks, oh yes, you will. So for dinner on Thursday, I ate a bag of Fritos, a bag of Cheetos, and a bag of M&Ms for dinner. I had a late lunch. Then I went down to the bar. Upon arrival I saw about 40 big burly men wearing real man work clothes and hard hats. I joked with the lady at the desk about how good it was to have librarians and construction workers in the same hotel as we are similar in our personalities. They were all drinking and being loud and boisterous, having a good time. I waded right in. I noticed that the bartender was not so loud about being from Green Bay on this evening. I ordered a large ale. I struck up a conversation with one of the workers. He said the group was composed of the guys working around the clock to rebuild the collapsed bridge. I told him he and the others were doing a good thing and we all appreciated their work. Then we and some other folks, librarians and construction workers alike, enjoyed the NCAA basketball tournament. That was a fun evening. I had not been around a bunch of sports fans for a while. I had two more large ales. The next morning, I remembered why I don't drink anymore.
A funny thing happened at the bar on the next night. A guy who was neatly dressed sat at the bar and started chatting with the bartender. He sounded like a regular guy, probably from Cincinnati or some such place. Then he orders a glass of pinot grigio. I did not laugh as I sat sipping my Diet Coke. But then he asks the bartender where he can go to eat good food and look at some girls. That was funny to me. A real ladies man. Then he says to the bartender, "Give me that drink you gave me last night. What's it called again?" The barkeep answers, "A White Russian." hahaha. That made me laugh. I said to the bartender, "For his next drink, why don't you serve him a Harvey Wallbanger." It was all in good fun. The guy didn't take offense.
The rest of the time was spent attending classes, milling about, taking pictures, eating more heavy food and conversing with others. I got a good picture of the statue of Mary Richards throwing her hat into the air. And I was very cosmopolitan - I rode the light transit train for a buck fifty. Minneapolis, I imagine, is quite pretty in the spring time. There are lots of fun things to do if one is on vacation. I might travel north again one day for a visit and bring the wife. I am glad to be back home though.