Graffiti and trains

I think I have decided to make "the Sociology of Libraries" an ongoing series, because I have way more than 3 things to talk about, but I don't want to turn this into a fully fledged library blog. There are enough library blogs as it is, and most of them are better than mine. So you will have to stay tuned for more library goodness in the future. Instead, I'm going to talk about graffiti.

I have always enjoyed catching the train into the city because of the great graffiti that lines the walls of the stations, particularly from about Glenferrie station in. I know a lot of people hate graffiti, and I don't agree with tagging private property, but I think that public property, such as areas around train stations, are fair game. Quite frankly, I'd rather see some nice art than stare at brick walls. The reason I enjoy looking at it is because it's so bright and colourful, and new pieces are constantly being done so it never looks old. Also, from a completely non-technical, non-artistic point of view, I admire the skills required to complete a complicated piece, not only in terms of being able to control the spraycan but also to have the design in their head and being able to complete it relatively quickly.

My favourite piece of graffiti used to be at Burnley station, and it was a blue/green dragon type thing, which was quite large and superbly done. It stayed around for a number of years (artists don't paint over things they admire) but finally was replaced with something else. At the moment my favourite piece is outside Chatham station (further out than usual for graffiti goodness!) and it depicts a full Alice in Wonderland scene, including Alice playing croquet with a flamingo (I think it was) and the Queen of Hearts. It takes up a whole wall and is very very cool. Another piece I like is in one of the tunnels leading into Flinders street and is a giant "SDM" which is all coloured yellow. I like this simply because it is so big and I am amazed they were able to finish it before being discovered!

I'm not a huge fan of plain tags, though. They're not as pretty. But if you have ever caught the train anywhere in Melbourne, you've probably seen the name "Stanley Bonez" tagged - usually in white paint, often very big and in difficult places - tops of buildings etc. He's been around as long as I can remember. Apparently the police recently caught up with Stanley Bonez, who, it turned out, wasn't the glamourous dashing man we all thought he was - instead he was a 40 something year old still living with his mother. Oh well. In conclusion, graffiti can sometimes be good and certainly liven up dead spaces like train stations. And we should all admire the skill it takes to create brilliant pieces like the Alice in Wonderland scene.

Happy Birthday

Today is my boyfriend's birthday, so here are some pics of things he likes:



Dracula!!



Mourning Jewellery!!



Sherlock Holmes!!

And here is a haiku I composed for the occasion:

True love is when your
Boyfriend gives you his iPod
When you forgot yours

Happy Birthday!

The Sociology of Libraries, Part 2

In my library we have return chutes so that people can return books without having to come into the library. There's three chutes - two are for books and one for AV. They're clearly marked. These chutes lead into the returns area where we put a book bin under each chute. I just wanted to set the scene.

Because there are two chutes for books, you would think that book returns would get distributed evenly between the two chutes. However, this is far from the case! For some reason, most people use the middle chute to return their books even though there is a perfectly good chute right next to it too. While this doesn't really matter during the day, it does make a difference over things like the Easter weekend, which, when I went in to clear the returns on Monday, meant that the middle chute was completely packed and the one next to it had some books in it, but less the half of the other one.

Why is this? Why are people drawn to the middle chute? Are they trying to outguess other returnees who may put their books in the chute closest to the stairs leading to the library? Are they compulsively drawn to the AV chute and this is the next best thing? They can't see how many books are in each bin (if they did, they might change their minds), and there's nothing to guide them except for the (identical) signs telling them where to put books or AV.

Because I've noticed this, it's really annoying me. Everytime something is returned though the middle chute I want to run out and ask them why they've used this chute. I'm convinced now that there's some sort of conspiracy between staff and patrons, which I'm not yet privy to, about the use of the middle chute. The other option is that it is completely arbitrary and I'm reading far too much into the whole situation. I'm (almost) happy to admit that this is the case, but it won't stop my curiosity and increasing irritation at the lack of a better explanation!

The Sociology of Libraries (Part 1)

Welcome to this, the first of 3 parts dealing with the sociology of libraries. I know that the heading sounds like a PhD topic (definitely not mine, though!), but don't be scared! I'm just going to discuss some little quirks I've noticed while on the job.

I am blessed to work in an industry where we get heaps of public holidays and are not pressured into working over long weekends and things like that. You'd think, therefore, that I spent the Easter holiday lounging on a deck chair somewhere, eating chocolates, without a care in the world. But no! The lure of increased pay persuaded me, as it does every year, to work on Easter Monday and reap the (financial) rewards. Actually, I usually volunteer to work as many public holidays as is humanly possible. I think it's pathalogical. Anyway, I went in for a short shift on monday when the library was open for much shorter hours than usual. It was absolutely chaotic and everyone was run off their feet, 'cause apparently a good section of the population didn't understand that monday was a public holiday and that they really don't need to use the library that bad.

But I digress! What I actually wanted to talk about was my horror, shock and disgust I felt upon walking into the returns area and finding that NOT ONE TROLLEY had been emptied on the previous open day (Thursday, I think) and that, not only did I have overflowing returns chutes, but I had to clear all the trolleys to begin with!! I know who the culprit was on the thursday, but don't know whether I should say anything or not. I am very careful at the end of my shifts to clear all the trolleys (well, one or two books is fine, but not a completely stocked trolley) and make sure all the holds are put away. I am obsessive about this. I feel it's my duty to the poor soul who comes in early the next morning. Also, I like things to be tidy.

I am debating what I should do. Did this person leave the trolleys out of ignorance, or was it a malicious attempt to undermine my public holiday glory? In any case, I spent the entire time run off my feet so I definitely earnt my money. I am unsure of the etiquette of the situation - maybe I am the only one who diligently clears trolleys? You would think this would teach me not to work on public holidays but I can almost guarantee that next Easter, I'll be back, slaving away next to the return chutes.

Where's My Space Age?

I was putting away books in my library the other day, when I came across one entitled Where's My Space Age?. The book is actually a design reference for 1960s space-age design stuff, and is beside the point. But it got me thinking. Where is my space age?

As a child, I seem to recall promises of space flight, colonies on the moon, and general assumptions that we'd be all living off nuclear power and driving hovercrafts to work. Certainly, if you look at any of the decent sci-fi series, we're already falling behind their timelines! In Star Trek, for example, the 1990s saw the great explosion of genetic engineering, leading to the expulsion of the genentically-enhanced dictators who had taken over the world (including your favourite, and mine, Khan). None of this has happened yet! Or maybe it has and we just don't know it....

What I loved the best about this vision of the future were the little things, designed to make everyone's lives better. My personal favourite was the hovercraft. I love the idea of being able to drive over any surface to travel around. And think about it. It makes sense. Think of all the congestion problems that would be solved, and parking would be so much easier!

On a related note, when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would always answer something along the lines of "well, at least 50% of the jobs that will be around when I'm grown up haven't been invented yet, so I can't tell you" (yes I was a smartearse kid - that may surprise you!). Instead, I'm working to be a librarian, in a library full of books (not even books on some futuristic format!), and I don't even have a wacky robot sidekick to keep me company! We have a long way to go, people!

A Small PS

Just to refresh your memories, here is a picture of the melbourne central clock in all its glory...

I should also apologise the dodginess of the picture (the best that Google Images could do for me) and also note the historical signifcance of the pic - Daimaru has been dead and gone for many years now!

The Melbourne Central Clock

First of all, let me apologise to all my readers (all one of me!) for not updating sooner. Time flies when you're...spending a rediculous amount of time writing pointless essays for a pointless course. Anyway. Onto the fun stuff.

I'm sure everyone has seen the abomination that is the clock in the middle of Melbourne Central. You know, the one that every hour opens up and sings "Waltzing Matilda" and scary animatronic animals move around? I thought that in the latest series of renovations, they would get rid of the clock forever. Obviously I was mistaken. But I was also mistaken in thinking it was a hideous disgusting thing with no appeal to anyone at all. This is very surprising!

I have noticed, while running to the train at 5pm, or arriving in the city at 4pm, that there are people poised with cameras to catch the clock. Not just one person. Several people. All with state of the art cameras, and new shiny guidebooks. In short - Tourists! They can't actually think it's good, do they? I keep expecting them to walk off in disgust, once again let down by those wacky people at Lonely Planet, or Fodder's, or Let's Go. But no! They stay until the end, videotaping the whole thing.

I guess I'm just giving the tourists (and the general public) much more credit than they deserve. I was a tourist myself recently, and I certainly would not have stopped for the equivalent of the Melbourne Central Clock. It was ugly when they first put it up (I don't even remember when that was) and it is bizarrely out of place in the refurbished Melbourne Central. I guess, though, if the tourists keep staring at it, they'll keep it up. Maybe even start charging to see it. I just hope they're all staring in horror.

Librarian tidiness

One stereotype of people who become librarians is that they are obsessively neat and fixated on filing systems. At least to some degree I belive this is true. While I'm not obsessively neat, all my books and cds are in alphabetical order by author/artist/band and then in chronological order by date of publication. And I do think my mind is obsessively neat even if the rest of me isn't. A lot of other librarian types I know are also obsessive about filing and so forth, too. I always thought that the career of librarian attracted people interesting in this type of stuff because a good part of the job is about filing, categorising and recalling information from specific categories. So yeah, I always thought that this particular job attracted a certain personality type.

Apparently this is not the case! I've been into several uni libraries recently to use their librarian book section (025 if anyone's counting) and in every single one, the entire section is in complete dissaray! Books are all over the place, on the ends of shelves, backwards and certainly not in any type of (Dewey) order. I am horrified at this development! If library student can't keep their section in order, what hope do we have for other sections populated by notoriously messy students?! Actually it's kind of scary to think that librarian students can't follow the dewey decmimal system...

Anyway you'll be pleased to know that your friendly library fairy (ie me) felt the need to put the section in order (even at uni libraries not my own!) so they should be in order for the next day or two, should any of you intrepid readers wish to avail yourselves of this section! I feel I'm fighting a losing battle. Am I the last of the great obsessive librarians?

Kids and Trains

I'm not a huge fans of kids (some of you might know that...) and I'm really not a fan of kids in public places. Like trains, for example. But however much I must hate the kids, I have to at least acknowledge that their behaviour is not really their fault. I have to blame the parents. The worst type of parent are the ones who smile indulgently at their kids, and you, if you accidentally catch their eye, while their spawn crawl over seats, kick your knees (oh yes) and scream at the top of their voices while going through under a tunnel, through a station, when the doors open, or any other general time. I never know if the parents are actually oblivious to the commotions of their child (having become immune after living with the child), if they don't think their child is doing anything wrong, or if they think that trying to control their child is worse than letting them run wild. And why any parent would try to include anyone else in their adoration of their child is quite beyond me. While it might be fun for the parents to allow other people to 'watch' their kids while climbing over seats, on the floor, on other peoples' bags etc etc, it's not so fun for the rest of the commuters, regardless of how much they personally may love kids. For me, I'm all for isolation and segregation of children. Give them their own trains with nice comfy seats, toys to play with and endless supplies of snacks. The parents could have their own carriage, safe in the knowledge that the entire train is child-proof, sanitary and safe. Actually, I'm not that concerned about what happens to kids and public transport, as long as they're not near me. Or within hearing range. Or kicking range. Because one day soon I'm going to snap and start pushing the kids off the trains. Or maybe I should go for the parents??!