There is a story in everyone

“On one flight when I was working as an attendant, I looked out the window over the wing of the plane and saw two engines on fire. It was pretty unnerving since I knew the pilots were unable to see the engines from the cockpit. You could feel the plane descend rapidly and I wondered if this was the end!”

Nine times out of ten, I am treated to a story by the older clients I take their doctor, hairdresser, and shopping locations. As a volunteer driver, I consider those stories my payment for the service.

The stories vary widely. Great tales of adventures fishing and camping “up north.” Sad stories of beloved pets, long passed, but still alive in the memory of the teller. A rather funny telling of how a water heater broke down on one Thanksgiving when the host’s house had 20 relatives all staying there. Recollections of meeting famous people. Of road trips and international travel. Recollections of beloved cars and good meals. You just never know what these folks might have to say about any given topic.

While few, if any, of these narratives would make a very interesting novel, magazine story, or news headline, each in its own way has value. To the teller, of course, but especially to me, the listener. I have been most fortunate to have lived a life of travel, accomplishment, and adventure - and do my best to continue to do so. So it is rather easy to feel pity for those whose lives seem to have been lived less fully with little travel, dull jobs, no excitement, scarce family, and no public recognition for accomplishments.

But the stories folks tell remind me that they have simply lived different lives, not lesser lives. That they do not deserve pity and that I am sort of an ass for feeling that they should. I need that reminder that humans are unique and all have value.

I can’t wait to hear my next story this afternoon!

Last year's worries

What were you worrying about this time last year? I can tell you precisely.

According to my calendar, April 18 (the day I started writing this) fell on a Sunday in 2021 and I went on a group hike around some lakes in Minneapolis.

While I only faintly remember the hike, I know for sure that I was wearing a backpack of about 20 pounds. And that I was very concerned about my blood pressure. Not that I would have a stroke or heart attack, but that my blood pressure reading might keep me from completing a long planned-for adventure with my grandson - backpacking the Philmont Boy Scout Ranch in New Mexico.

The Scouts have lots of rules for “high adventure” excursions. I had to get a physical. I completed Wilderness First Aid training. I took the Youth Protection Training course. But my biggest concern was knowing that after arriving in Philmont and before beginning the 60 mile backpacking trip, all adults had to submit to a blood pressure check. And my blood pressure runs high - especially when I am getting it checked. (White Coat Hypertension - it’s a real thing.)

So my worry was that after years of anticipation, months of training, hours of classes, and days of travel, I would find myself stuck at the basecamp while the rest of my crew headed into the Sangre de Christo mountains without me. What made matters worse was it seemed there would be no second chance to be retested. The check was made just a couple hours before the hike began.

I expressed my concern to our guide who worked at the camp and asked if I could not be given my BP check the day we arrived so if I failed, I could try again the next morning. The young man simply looked at me, winked, and said, “Nobody fails the blood pressure test.” 

And I didn’t. I got my blood pressure checked. I have absolutely no clue what those two little numbers were. Literally months of worry were for naught. I seemed to struggle no more or less than the other adults hiking. I don’t think I embarrassed my grandson too horribly.

I often try to adjust my thinking about a problem by asking myself if I will still be worrying about it a year from now. My biggest concern right now is a leaking sink in my bathroom. I’m not stewing about it too much since I rather doubt it will still be leaking this time next year. Even given my plumbing skills.

Are there things worth worrying about? My health, for sure. I am sure I will still be trying to keep my weight down this time next year. The happiness of my friends and family. Issues of local importance in which I can provide an active solution by volunteering. I am not particularly worried about Ukraine, COVID, supply chains, gun violence, divisive politics, etc. I try to stay informed but I also recognize my personal influence over these matters is miniscule.

What do you find worth worrying about?

In praise of the public library

www.carnegielibrariesiowa.org/library/sac-city/

Well, I missed it. National Library week was last week. How could I have let it slip by?

While my career centered around school libraries, I have been a devotee of public libraries since I was a kid. The photo above shows the old Carnegie Library in my hometown of Sac City, Iowa, looking much as it did in the 50s and 60s. Although I lived on a farm some nine miles out in the country, it seemed that I still was able to get to the public library every week.

Sitting on Main Street hill just a block or so west of downtown, the library was not exactly handipcapped accessible. There was a back entrance in an alley that required fewer steps, but the inside of the library was two stories. The lower level had the children’s section that I didn’t use much. It was the glorious second floor where I spent my time. The circulation desk was in the aisle that divided the east and west halves of the main floor. On the right was the card catalog with its separate drawers for title, author, and subject. As I remember, the non-fiction section was on the west, the fiction section on the east. Each section had a few tables where one could sit and read.

I was an avid reader of mysteries written for kids - Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew, especially. I hit the science fiction section hard, Heinlien being a favorite. But what I remember checking out most were books from the library’s wonderful mythology section. Greek and Roman myths were my favorite, but I also dipped into Egyptian and Viking lore. One of my proudest days was when the librarian informed me that I had read every book in the mythology section that the library owned. If there was interlibrary loan in those days, I was unaware of it.

Until my retirement, I have to admit I had not been a big user of the public library as an adult. I took my kids to story hour in Mankato at times and I served on multi-type library advisory boards (being the school representative), but I rarely used the materials themselves. In fact, I wrote a rather critical editorial for the local paper, describing the things our Blue Earth County Library could learn from the newly opened Barnes & Noble bookstore. Embarrassingly, it happened to be published the same day the public librarian came to speak to the Kiwanis Club where I was a member. She gave me the cold shoulder as I remember.

Today’s library system here in Dakota County where I now live, is probably the best one I have ever encountered. The physical facilities are beautiful and open everyday and in the evenings. Their collections are superior and the librarians easily work with library cooperatives on interlibrary loan. As I have written about before, their digital collections, especially Libby, have saved me a lot of moola! Volunteers deliver physical materials to homebound users. Just before I retired, the Dakota system and my school district created a mutually advantageous plan that made sure every 6-12 student had their own “digital” library card that guaranteed fine-free checkouts.

The public library has come a long way since my childhood. May it continue to evolve and stay relevant when my great-great-grandchildren discover it.