Director's Blog

The Library Director’s Annual Yule Blog

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Since 2008, each December I have created a mix tape of seasonal favorites.

They’ve been known variously as” Don’t Touch that Dial” (I imagine there will come a day in the not too distant future when readers will have no idea what I mean by this — perhaps those days are here?), “Too Cool for Yule” and “The Director’s Annual Yule Blog.”

There are many thousands of songs to choose from, across all genres, and putting together this annual list is one of the things I most look forward to.

As with that first list, I observe two major criteria: I really like the song and (mostly) stay away from the purely goofy — barking dogs, flattened grandmas – (although this year, I couldn’t resist, “Gelt Melt” by The LeeVees in homage to Chanukah, the eight-day Festival of Lights that begins on Christmas Eve); and I include a version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” – that wistful confection penned by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane, and introduced by Judy Garland in the 1944 MGM musical Meet Me in St. Louis, directed by Garland’s soon-to-be-husband, Vincent Minnelli, one of the greatest directors of movie musicals. I don’t believe there is a singer who has not covered this song and while Garland is still the standard by which I measure any cover, Luther Vandross does a terrific job with it, cool and swinging, and makes me miss him all the more.

And speaking of losses, in 2016 we said good bye to several giants of the music industry: Prince, David Bowie, Sharon Jones, Maurice White, Merle Haggard, Leon Russell, Glenn Frey, Leonard Cohen, Ralph Stanley and too many others gone too soon.

While not technically a holiday song of the “holly, jolly” variety, Cohen’s “Winter Lady” captures his essence as poet and troubadour. And Stanley’s “Christmas is Near” is grassy and old-timey. Which brings me to “Who Knows Where the Time Goes,” by British folk rocker Sandy Denny – haunting, lyrical, a perfect accompaniment to late year musings.

I close with “The World Spins Madly On” by Indie folkies, The Weepies. Because this was 2016.

So click, spin or sing along.

And please consider posting a comment below to tell us what you think or to share your holiday favorite —be it musical, audio-visual, literary, traditional, or food-oriented. We would love to hear from you.

And while you’re at it, have yourself a merry little. . .

It was in Miss Barbara Nelson’s first grade class at Stewart-Tuckahoe that I first learned that the choices I made could affect the world.

It was November of 1960, and Miss Nelson asked the class to put our heads on our desks and, by a show of hands, vote for President.

She called John Kennedy’s name first and being new to this form of civic engagement, I peeked and saw one of my friends raise her hand – I followed her lead. A moment later, Miss Nelson asked how many were voting for Richard Nixon. Again, I peeked, saw how a second friend was voting, and promptly committed voter fraud. Miss Nelson shared the results, acknowledged that there had been an error but decided against a recount. I was spared.

I can’t say that was the beginning of my social consciousness but I was very interested in politics and government throughout my years in public school and at age 18, voted for the first time in November, 1972. It was a thrill and a sign (along with getting a driver’s license) that I had reached adulthood.

I’ve never missed an election since and when my two sons were little, I took them with me to help me cast my ballot, their reward: red, white and blue “I Voted” stickers. Years later, one of those boys stood in line with me to help me cast my vote for the first African-American President. The enormity of that moment was not lost on either one of us.

It’s a point of pride that Central Library is one of many polling locations.

Not because we’re a big facility with a large auditorium and a lot of free parking, but because our very existence as the public library is predicated on a belief that people have a right to know.

Free and unfettered access to information makes our democracy work by giving people the tools they need to pursue the lives they imagined. 

That is a sacred covenant that we, as librarians, never take for granted.

This election season has seemed exceptionally long and it’s no surprise that many (all?) of us are counting the days until it is over. To hasten its end (and it will end), however, is to pay insufficient attention to what voting is all about: taking a stand, making a commitment to oneself and others, being an active participant in the wider community.

Turn on the TV, open the newspaper, listen to the radio – we’re told that this election is more important than ever.

Not so. Every election is important and every vote counts. And it’s a privilege that for people in many parts of the world is not enjoyed.

On Tuesday, vote as if your life depends on it; it does.

They put you down, they say I’m wrong

You tacky thing, you put them on

Rebel Rebel

You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.  I have been feeling that way for the past few days while reading the many moving tributes to the late cultural icon, David Bowie.  I have been reminded, too of how much he had been a part of my life without actually being in my life.  Just a handful of years older then I, Bowie personified where I was or, more often, where I wanted to be through his many reinventions. There was Bowie the glam, Bowie the space oddity, Bowie the bi-, Bowie who fell to earth, Bowie the fashionista, Bowie the crooner, and Bowie the Warhol, his sly turn as the High Priest of Pop as if he needed another 15 minutes of “Fame.”

On vinyl, film, the stage, in the pages of glossies, on the arms of super-star models, Bowie was the protean taste shifter, the master of surprise, the eyebrow raiser, the envelope pusher. He always seemed to get “there” –wherever “there” was – ahead of everyone else.  When it was hip to be hip, he was the hippest; when cool was the thing, he was ice.  Imagine Bowie as Mr. Freeze instead of Schwarzenegger (“Holy ‘hasta la vista, baby’ Batman”).  Even the recent fuss over Jaden Smith (Will’s son) wearing a dress in an apparent nod to gender fluidity felt pretty “been there.”

David Bowie’s life was devoted to art and over many decades he shared the fruits of his curiosity with all of us.  One gift of his he may not have been conscious of sharing: the gift of courage.  Through his example, he showed all of us how to live a life of purpose and authenticity. How to believe in ourselves, especially when others don’t.  How to be a private person in a very public business.  How to court change and relish difference.  How to keep it real and fresh.  And how to keep on.

I read a few weeks ago about the release of his latest album – number 25, and thought, wow… good for him, still out there doing it.  And as I listen to it now, and realize it’s not the latest but the last, I feel privileged to have been a witness to a life well lived.  About his artistic journey, Bowie once said, “I don’t know where I’m going from here but I promise it won’t be boring.”

No, Mr. Jones. It wasn’t.

Golden Years.

Explore the bulk of Bowie’s stellar recordings, even the before-its-time Tin Machine, for free through hoopla. 

Don’t have an account? Create yours through the Library.

As to books, the Goblin King really enjoyed those too.

An email from Powell’s Books in Portland, Ore. arrived in my inbox yesterday reminding me that Sept. 28 – Oct. 3 is Banned Books Week.  

Established in 1982 by the late Judith Krug, then director of the American Library Association’s Office of Intellectual Freedom and a tireless champion of freedom of speech, the annual Banned Books Week promotes free and open access to ideas and information. And it’s a great time for libraries to celebrate the joy of reading, shown in countless studies to be a key factor in determining one’s success in life.

A quick scan of ALA’s list of frequently challenged books reads like a Who’s Who of literary giants. Next month Arlington Public Library presents in person the legendary Judy Blume, a frequent “contributor” to the list, appearing five times over a ten-year period with such titles as “Forever” (7), “Blubber” (30), “Deenie” (42), “Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret” (60), and “Tiger Eyes” (89).

Books are change agents. They challenge our beliefs and biases. They expose us to different experiences and cultures. They help us learn to think for ourselves and not follow the crowd or cult of public opinion. They can threaten us and they can charm us.  They can enliven our spirits and they can cause despair. They honor equally the quotidian and the profound. They can please, they can polarize. Paper or “e,” quarto or quartz: Reading inspires, inflames, evokes and elevates.

Want to know how you can help celebrate Banned Books Week? Commit to reading at least one challenged book. And if you have a child at home, ask him or her to commit to one, too.

We promise it might hurt. And that’s a good thing.

The Arlington History Task Force, made up of County staff and citizen volunteers, continues to map out the best strategy for preserving our history. 

The new Mid-Term Report [pdf] toward a 5-year plan lays out the group’s ideas for capturing, digitally storing and sharing both official documents and those elements of personal stories that will have essential value to future generations.

The goal is to be ready for Arlington’s official centennial as a County in 2020.

A final Task Force report will be issued this coming January so please take a look and let us know what you think in the comments section below. Thanks.