Scarcely we live the days of _______.

Tedium. By the word’s definition, you should not want to take part in my account of these tedious days, my ennui. But, my dear and not-so-dear ones, you know it, don’t you? All too well: life keeps going, going, with or without you.

We have all been caught in our own empty abeyances, haven’t we? Some call it laziness. Others, indecision. Others, another subtle or violent term of inaction. Regardless of the term, if you do not already relate, my thoughts are not for you. Please, stop reading knowing I admire you or perhaps think you self-deceived.

Rediscovering _______

As I sat on the porch steps of dreadful suburbia, letting the sunshine bathe my face, my arms, my questioning soul, I sat and enjoyed an unfiltered American Spirit, trying to ignore something. Something that was a more constant irritant than the metallic click click click of the katydids’ musicless call or the blind traverse of the fat, gray-black ant up and along my calf.

The Adaptable

If there was something I did not like about New York City, it was the noise. Noise like a thousand leaky faucets, whose drips dropped together in a thousand different keys.

Pedestrians cross 34th St. right outside my apartment building door. Photo by me.

It is a frantic city that is never calm. The street corner where I lived, seven storeys above ground, had an average pedestrian count of 10,000 to 11,000 pedestrians per hour, according to President of the 34th St. Partnership Daniel Biederman.

I took this photo one ungodly early morning before leaving the apartment to start my day. Of course, New York was still wide awake.

Add the noise of that traffic to the screech and moan of stopping and starting buses, the emphatic and accented street vendors, the talkative horns of taxicabs, the steady metallic hum of construction, etc., and you have an equation that sounds like peace’s antithesis.

Not only did the city sound her fiercest during the daytime hours, but all night long she played her nocturnal cacophony that never quite became a lullaby when my head rested on the pillow next to my apartment window, which did its level best to shut out some of the city sounds.

The Vitality of Libraries to Society

Bryan College senior Ashley Felker reads in the Shakespeare Garden at the Bryan College Library. Photo by Allison McLean.

by Allison McLean

“If you have a garden and a library, you have all you need,” a quote by Cicero reads on the plasma screen at the entrance of the Bryan College Library (Dayton, Tenn.). This library happens to have both.

All dressed up in balloons and “READ” posters, the Bryan College Library celebrates National Library Week with events and decorations meant to highlight the same importance that Cicero asserted.

In honor of National Library Week, the library staff held events such as a week-long “People Book” series, nightly dramatic readings of pieces of literature such as Mark Twain’s “The Diaries of Adam and Eve” and library-related trivia contests.

Balloons in the Bryan College Library for National Library Week. Photo by Allison McLean.

National Library Week is “an annual celebration” of the vital role that libraries play in the United States. It was begun in 1958 by the American Library Association (ALA) to raise public awareness of the services and significance of libraries across the nation.

“Libraries  are an important part of a democracy because it’s important for democracies to have an informed citizen, and library’s are a source of free information,” said the Bryan College Library Director Gary Fitsimmons.

The Virtue of Old-fashioned Things

It’s true: I like old-fashioned things.

Like the dramatic and desperate humanity of film noir.

Like the virile immediacy of a typewriter.

Like the warmth and style of a felt cloche.

After all, would Technicolor have evoked the same feelings of alienation, disillusionment, and quiet despair that characterize the classics of film noir?

Yes, I understand that it would seem ironic, if not contradictory, that I am writing about typewriters and other archaic, sundry items on a blog. If  you thought that, I have to admit that you are right–right on the surface of a deeper issue.

Small beginnings:

This is not the beginning of the story, but it’s a beginning, anyway.