Lessons from Logan's Run

For all you fans of Logan's Run out there (all six or seven of you), you'll sympathize with my current unease: I'm about to turn 30! In a couple short months I'll be saying "so long" to my 20's and embarking on the sobering path to Middle Age. If I were a character in Logan's Run, my Lifeclock (or "palm flower," if you've read the novel) would be red, but gearing up to start flashing red-black-red-black, the signal that I am on LastDay and will have to report to Carousel for "Final Sleep" (aka: euthenasia!). In that realm I would be considered an elder.

If this sounds foriegn to you, I recommend you do yourself a favor and see this film right away. It's one of those set-in-the-way-distant-future post-apocalyptic type sci-fi stories that was dreamed up in the 1960's, when everyone just assumed we'd be riding our hovercrafts to our space-jobs by the year 2000. Published in 1967, it's actually a great social barometer of America's collective consciousness concerning the future in those post-Camelot days: optimistic that the human race will indeed find a way to survive in the face of environmental disaster and overpopulation, but cynical in that these problems are inevitable, and that the way we will accomplish our survival is to give our freedom over to robotic overlords and submit to voluntary suicide rituals when we turn 30 (although in the book it's 21). It's a weird breed: conceived in the 1960's, so it's pretty free-wheelingly groovy, but combined with this totally square sense of judgmental disdain for its characters' hedonistic lifestyle--you get the feeling that the let-the-good-times-roll free sex n' drugs hippy utopia enjoyed by this faux society is (vaguely) preaching some kind of Roman empire kind of lesson (in fact, everybody even wears sexy, color-coordinated togas--although this may be just an elaborate excuse to get Jenny Agutter half naked).

I've been a fan of the 1976 film adaptation (with Michael York as Logan 5!) for a long time. I liked (but was intensely confused by) the 1977 television series (saw it in reruns, out of order, as a kid--before I saw the movie and/or had any idea what the plot was), and I'm currently about 80 pages into the novel by William F. Nolan and George Clayton Johnson. In recognition of my impending 30th birthday (or LastDay, as I will now be calling it) I've decided to make Logan's Run the final pick in my Summer Reading Pool (class starts back next week!). I think it's not only appropriate, but necessary reading for anyone about to become a triagenarian. It may cheer you up when you take a break from the Soylent Green-esque story and realize that, yes, the salad days of your youth are behind you, but hey: you are not required by law to submit to euthanasia for the good of an unsustainable society of flakey LSD-addled swingers. So: silver lining!

P.S. The movie version of Logan's Run also contains my favorite robot character of all times: Box! It took at least 3 viewings to figure out what he was talking about and why he was there, but none of that should bother you. Just sit back, relax, and let the future happen.

Been Busy Makin' Pie!

Why has Mercy Missiles been so curiously absent from your internet radar? Well, I have a confession to make, reader: I've been busy in the kitchen, makin' pie! The above is my humble effort to deal with the unprecedented giant bagfull of nearly-over-ripe peaches that my dear husband brought home. They are, without question, the best damn peaches I've ever tasted. The only reasonable thing for a person to do when faced with a plethora of rapidly turning produce is to make pie with them, which is exactly what I did. lots of pie. It took forever.

Cleaning Out the Basement of All Basements

I spent a few hours of my Sunday this week helping my dad sort through about 30+ years of basement junk, oddities, memorabilia, and minutiae from the olde family homestead. Believe me when I say this is one dense storage space--the surface debris represents the most recent years' collections--address books, college textbooks, miscellaneous documents and post-secondary fodder, but delve a bit deeper and you'll find artifacts dating back to high school, grade school, kindergarten, toddlerhood, infancy and even birth. I found old sketchpads from my angsty tweens, teeball uniforms, blankies, yearbooks, polaroids and various other, semi-meaningful ephemera representing half-recognized phantoms and mysterious youthful ramblings. Knee-deep in the physical manifestation of my existence, I could almost hear the booming intonations of an unseen narrator: "Katie Beach! This is the stuff of your life!!" Once we scratched the surface we began to realize that this is indeed a monument that goes 10...15...20 layers deep into the defining possessions of me and my older brother's life and times. We didn't even come close to the central nervous system of this titanic beast of a clutter, and I suspect we won't for many weeks. Maybe months.

Anyway, i thought I might highlight the best of the found artifacts here for your enjoyment:

A VHS tape of the 1976 World Series between the New York Yankees and the Cincinnati Reds. I can't wait to watch this again, as I have many happy memories of playing it over and over again as a kid. I believe the narrator is the immortal Joe Garagiola. It'll be nice to see the Reds wiping the floor of Riverfront Stadium with the Yanks--4 games to zero, an embarrassing Series sweep for NY!



A "brand new" original, mint-in-box April O'Neil Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure, complete with action camcorder accessory! This is apparently a Christmas present that was never given, perhaps hidden too well in the depths of the basement. Anyway, if it was actually received I can tell you, it would not still be in the box.

Now this is an excellent example of a post-college professional development artifact. A complete set of training VHS videos, loaned to me by a former employer. From 2002-2004 I worked as a retail assistant for an art supply store, and this is a series of instructional videos for the "Creative Products Salesperson." I never watched 'em, but I'm sure I did just fine selling watercolor supplies to housewives without the excellent advice of the first tape, entitled "Say 'Hey' to the Customer!"

Groovy late 1970's family photographs. For some reason I've never really been able to unearth many baby pictures of myself (or many from my toddler years either, now that I think about it), so it was nice to find some of these and see that there are, afterall, records of the second Beach child to be found.

Army men! Firemen! Dinosaurs! Farm animals! Cowboys & Indians! All mixed up in a giant bag o' plastic fun, all ready to fight to the death for my amusement! An amazing find that will definitely bring me hours of crazy, mixed-up diorama enjoyment.

Sunday Levity

Well, after what can only be described as a depressing week of disaster at my place of business, I thought it would be nice to showcase my newest obsession: canning! I've started at the obvious beginning (pickles), as it's pretty easy to make and can them and, well, I've been getting a shitload of cucumbers in my CSA share this summer--I had to take some sort of action or I'd be overrun with rotting cukes.

Anyway, I figured I'd start with a personal favorite: bread and butter pickles. I threw in some red/green/and orange peppers, garlic and banana peppers for color, as well as some garlic cloves. I mixed turmeric, celery seeds, mustard seeds and a handful of whole cloves in with the cider vinegar, and they are tasty. This isn't normally something I'd brag about, but I just tasted my first handmade pickle and I have no choice but to offer myself props for my mad pickling skillz.

An image from the basement of the main branch of the Louisville Free Public Library. Fatalities include: 3 bookmobiles, 4 computer servers, over 10,000 items slated for transfer to branches (i.e. books, DVDs, audio books, etc), new aquisitions (including new books, DVDs, audio books, etc), donated and withdrawn materials to be sold at an annual sale, 2 elevators, and $50,000 worth of new computer equipment.

Louisville Free Public Library: Worst Case Scenario

The main branch of the public library where I work was flooded by a rare and insane storm experienced by the city on Tuesday. According to the local meteorology alarmists (AKA, our local weathermen--although, I guess I should give 'em a pass in this instance) Louisville had 7 inches of rainfall in about an hour and 15 minutes, which did seem totally crazy. The basement was under 4 feet of rainwater in a matter of minutes, there was widespread electrical shorts which took out all power to the building, and later caused an electrical fire. Walls made with 100 year old plaster are buckling, sewer backup and mold make the library uninhabitable, and the elevators are a total loss. We've been told that the building will open again, with limited access and services, sometime in January (estimated). So, "complete disaster" and "crippling doomsday scenario" are not exaggerated phrases at this point.

I work for a branch library that had no rain damage at all, but the computer servers we work off at all the branches were in the basement at the main branch...so...no internet, no card catalog, no patron records, no service. Our bookmobiles were all totalled, about 10,000 new books and materials, along with $50,000 worth of equiptment for a new branch set to open next week, were destroyed. Instead of listing what we can't do, I guess I shoud just say what we/I can do:

1. I can rely on my somewhat-accurate memory of fiction writers to tell you where a particular novel may be found (although I cannot tell you if it is supposed to be in, or may be at another branch),
2. I can rely on my surprisingly accurate and somewhat-in depth knowledge of the Dewey Decimal System to find a non-fiction book on a subject of your choice, or
3. we can cross our fingers that my iPhone is getting 3G reception at any given moment (spotty service inside/near my workplace at best, AT&T--already regretting that 2 year service plan...) so that I can bask in the beautiful glow of the Internet.

It is pretty telling that the usual hustle/bustle of my little neighborhood branch has screeched to a deadened silence, breached only by the occassional interjections of a few smug oldsters. The sorts who were always making snarky comments before about there being no physical card catalog, so bitter and full of codgery about all the punk kids with their "MyFace" and their "SpaceBooks" and their "cellular phones" that seem to populate the library now, are having the proverbial field day: flashing us their best "I told you so" looks when they hear that we're basically crippled by the absence of computer service. We've had to put up with a lot of resentful stories that begin with "In my day..." and "These kids today..." and "Well, I never...!" from these types (and worst of all, I occassionally find myself agreeing with them: me, one foot already knee-deep in fuddy-duddydom). Anyway, these are the only patrons I've dealt with on any level beyond the simple inquiries of whether our computers are "working" yet (they actually work just fine. If you want to write a Word document or play solitaire).

This situation leads to the real-life dealings with the inevitable--perpetual--Discussion-with-a-capital-"D" initiated in nearly every course I've taken in my library science grad school program thus far: What Is The Library's Role In Today's Society? This topic is designed to spark spirited and thoughtful discussion, and it usually does (along with the also-inevitable "Hey, what about that shriveled old-maid librarian stereotype? That's totally wrong, right?" discussion thread), but I was hoping not to have to really see it in action like this. Pretty disheartening that as soon as the internet goes away, so do all the young people (and most of the old people, for that matter). If I had to state an average age of the patrons who are actually using the library during this crisis, I would put it around 75...that's only 2.7 years below the current US life expectancy! So I'd say, at least for the public library, technology plays an integral role to its continued relevancy--and I absolutely hate saying things that sound like that.

More updates to come.

"Ever since then I have believed that God is not only a gentleman and a sport; He is a Kentuckian too."

-William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury