1. Resourceshelf.com reviews cool online reference resources daily.
2. Some Library systems are making great efforts to help patrons (young and old) create content that contributes to communities: checking out digital video cameras, providing training on video & audio editing software, supporting Web 2.0 communities like MySpace, Facebook, etc., having contests for kids to create digital artwork. They feel that this makes them more valuable to their patrons and more visible to politicians.
3. Many Libraries use Twitter, Facebook, and/or blogs to get the word out to patrons: new books/DVDs, programs, links to databases, appeals to contact politicians, etc. Some put a notice on the bottom of their receipts: “Follow us on Twitter @xyzlibrary” or “Join us on Facebook: xyzlibrary.” @prattlibrary is cited as a superb example of how a Library uses Twitter. One Nebraska library has a pet bird that sends out tweets and has hundreds of followers. Some Libraries report that newspaper reporters have picked up Twitter posts and showed up to write stories about programs, etc.
4. Some Librarians are just not cut out to be proofreaders. One presenter put up a slide that said “Gather as may sturdy brings as possible.” It was supposed to say “Gather as many sturdy bricks as possible.” I don't think she noticed.
5. Open Source systems are a great example of how you get what you pay for. Features that appear in one release (i.e. renewing an item) may suddenly disappear in the next. You need a good ISS department to succeed with an Open Source system.
6. Many Libraries use Google Analytics and Google Reader to find out what people are saying about their library and what people are looking for on their web pages. They adjust their emphasis accordingly.
7. One Library routinely searches for nearby Twitter posts that say things like “I’m going to the library” and answer accordingly: “We’re open until 5 today, we’ll look forward to seeing you.” Patrons are very impressed.
8. At Charlotte-Mecklenberg County PL, where they just laid off 120 staffers and are looking at a 50% budget cut in July, the Administration is so concerned about transparency and getting news to staff that one Administrator sends out twitter posts during Board meetings to keep the staff informed.
9. 80% of Americans own cell phones. By 2015, 2/3 of all mobile handsets will be smart phones. 43% own mp3 players.
10. Type in the address of your website at http://validator.w3.org/mobile/ and it will give you a score on how “mobile friendly” your site is – along with suggested changes to make it more mobile-friendly. Our website scored 3%. (That’s 3 out of 100.)
11. Visit www.worldcat.org/m/ to download a mobile-friendly Worldcat app for your phone. Use it to search holdings at your library. It’s probably more mobile-friendly than your own website.
12. One simple way to get more mobile-friendly is to set up a “charging station” in your branch where people can charge their phones, PDAs, laptops, etc.
13. The Ebook landscape is in constant flux. One presenter said, “Everything I say will be outdated by the time you leave this room.” Experts expect that Ebooks will move away from hardware-specific platforms (i.e. Kindle, Nook, iPad) toward standard formats that can be read on any hardware. In the long run, the Ebook market is expected to look like the music market does today. Black-and-white readers using e-ink technology (i.e. Kindle, Nook) are expected to become economy products very soon. By Christmas 2010, expect an under-$100 version, under $50 by mid-2011. Patrons will have greatly-increased demand for eBooks; if libraries don’t take that into account, we will become irrelevant.
14. We must accept that libraries are going to look very different in the future - in 20 years we will not need as many shelves - paper books are on the way out, especially among the younger generation.
19 April 2010
Scratchpad Saves the Day - Again!
My coworker was helping a patron, and she turned to me. "This patrons says that a while ago you ordered a book for her on dream interpretation - do you remember which one it was?"
Did I panic? Did I laugh in the patron's face? Did I roll my eyes and say, "Yeah, sure, I remember every book I've ever ordered for anyone"?
Nope. I consulted my scratchpad, did a search for "dream," and soon found it: "I ordered Zolar's Encyclopedia of Dream Interpretation for someone on January 28th."
The patron nodded. "Yeah, it was at the end of January."
My coworker went to the shelves and pulled off Zolar's, and handed it to the patron. The patron thumbed through it and said, "Yes, this is the one." Success!
----------
So what's a scratchpad? It's simple Notepad document that I keep open on my desktop whenever I'm on the public service desk. In it, I try to compulsively note down every interaction I have. Card numbers I look up, reference questions I answer, requests I place, equipment problems, who was on the desk with me, shelf checks, behavior problems, all those odd dribs and drabs of information that otherwise I would scribble on scrap paper and throw away. I don't get them all, because sometimes it's pretty busy, but I would say I manage to record a good 90-95%.
Here's what part of it looks like (I've edited out personal information):
----------
This goes on, day after day, until I fill a whole year. Then I archive that document and start a new one for the new year.
It's fairly easy to do: in Notepad you can hit F5 to insert the current date and time, and I cut-and-paste library card numbers and such. I deliberately try to keep it brief so it won't take much time.
What's the point of all this obsessive notetaking? Because in one case out of a hundred, it comes in handy. Sometimes immediately: patron (without their card, of course) requests some books, then comes back 15 minutes later to request more -- I don't have to look up their number again. Patron says they requested a book two weeks ago and forgot to get it, doesn't remember what it was -- I search by card number and find the title. We're having an information survey and I suddenly realize that I haven't filled out anything for the past three hours -- everything I need is right there.
Am I suggesting that everyone do this? No. (If I did suggest it, would people do it? It is to laugh.) But I CAN testify that it's something I've found useful. If you want to do something similar, give me a call or drop me an email.
----------
PS: It helps if you're a little obsessive-compulsive to begin with.
Did I panic? Did I laugh in the patron's face? Did I roll my eyes and say, "Yeah, sure, I remember every book I've ever ordered for anyone"?
Nope. I consulted my scratchpad, did a search for "dream," and soon found it: "I ordered Zolar's Encyclopedia of Dream Interpretation for someone on January 28th."
The patron nodded. "Yeah, it was at the end of January."
My coworker went to the shelves and pulled off Zolar's, and handed it to the patron. The patron thumbed through it and said, "Yes, this is the one." Success!
----------
So what's a scratchpad? It's simple Notepad document that I keep open on my desktop whenever I'm on the public service desk. In it, I try to compulsively note down every interaction I have. Card numbers I look up, reference questions I answer, requests I place, equipment problems, who was on the desk with me, shelf checks, behavior problems, all those odd dribs and drabs of information that otherwise I would scribble on scrap paper and throw away. I don't get them all, because sometimes it's pretty busy, but I would say I manage to record a good 90-95%.
Here's what part of it looks like (I've edited out personal information):
1:00 PM 1/28/2010 working with xxx
1:10 PM 1/28/2010 phone 21997xxxxxxxxx what do i have checked out & when are they due?
1:10 PM 1/28/2010 phone do county libraries purchase used hardcover books?
1:14 PM 1/28/2010 21997xxxxxxxxx request cdl general knowledge test - also: "bible correspondence book" (patron wanted a concordance)
1:42 PM 1/28/2010 21997xxxxxxxxx new registration
1:57 PM 1/28/2010 pub04 problem printing yahoo chat conversation - due to layout of page by yahoo
5:00 PM 1/28/2010 working with xxxx
5:50 PM 1/28/2010 21997xxxxxxxxx pub07 patron asked to verify his sam printing balance
6:00 PM 1/28/2010 working with xxxxxx
6:33 PM 1/28/2010 pub06 assistance with aacps.org magnet school acceptance website
6:51 PM 1/28/2010 21997xxxxxxxxx request zolar's encyclopedia of dream interpretation
6:59 PM 1/28/2010 phone - are you open on president's day
7:07 PM 1/28/2010 21997xxxxxxxxx look up card number
8:06 PM 1/28/2010 21997xxxxxxxxx new registration, sam user instruction
----------
This goes on, day after day, until I fill a whole year. Then I archive that document and start a new one for the new year.
It's fairly easy to do: in Notepad you can hit F5 to insert the current date and time, and I cut-and-paste library card numbers and such. I deliberately try to keep it brief so it won't take much time.
What's the point of all this obsessive notetaking? Because in one case out of a hundred, it comes in handy. Sometimes immediately: patron (without their card, of course) requests some books, then comes back 15 minutes later to request more -- I don't have to look up their number again. Patron says they requested a book two weeks ago and forgot to get it, doesn't remember what it was -- I search by card number and find the title. We're having an information survey and I suddenly realize that I haven't filled out anything for the past three hours -- everything I need is right there.
Am I suggesting that everyone do this? No. (If I did suggest it, would people do it? It is to laugh.) But I CAN testify that it's something I've found useful. If you want to do something similar, give me a call or drop me an email.
----------
PS: It helps if you're a little obsessive-compulsive to begin with.
26 February 2010
30 December 2009
Stuck in the Age of the Source
Reference service has always been about finding the exact information to answer a question. But since the advent of the Web and search engines, there's been a sea-change in the method for finding that information. Problem is, a lot of us (on both sides) are unaware of the change. Our unawareness is making our jobs harder, and making the library's resources more opague to patrons.
In the Olden Days, before the Web and search engines, the key to being a good reference librarian was to know your sources. Picking the right source was essential to getting the answer. (If you look very closely, you'll see that one of the behaviors correlated with reference success is still "finds answer in first source consulted.")
It's hard for librarians who have grown up with the Web to appreciate how important it was to be familiar with sources. Take a simple example: Which U.S. President was the first to speak on the radio? Now before you hit Google, let's pretend that there's a power failure and you have no internet access. I guarantee you, the answer is in your branch: what is it?
If you are aware of the reference book Famous First Facts, you will be able to find out that Warren G. Harding. If you aren't, you'll still be looking when the power comes back.
Another one (remember, no internet): When was Hurricane Agnes? You could scour the weather books, or you could look in Chase's Calendar and find it was June 14-23, 1972.
The point here is not that knowing the proper reference source can help when the power goes out. The point is that in the past, knowing the proper reference source was all there was. The source wasn't just the first thing, it was the only thing.
Today we don't need to worry about being familiar with sources. We have search engines, which keep up with the sources much better than we ever could. Today, the source isn't the first thing, second thing, or often even the tenth thing; the first thing is knowing how to structure your search terms.
We are no longer in the Age of Source; we are now in the Age of Search.
Trouble is, some folks who came up during the Age of Source have not made the adjustment. Some of them are not even aware that there's an adjustment to be made.
We still train our new people as if we were in the Age of Source. We have a Core Reference Collection of the "best sources," and our new folks spend incredible amounts of time familiarizing themselves with the Core Sources. Enormous amounts of time and effort go into updating and maintaining the Core Reference training assignments. I don't know who sits there correcting page numbers and writing new questions every time a print source is updated, but I have to wonder if their time couldn't be better spent.
We treat databases and websites as if Source was the only thing. First of all, on our website we separate paid databases from recommended websites...to enormous confusion among staff and patrons. Imagine that someone asks you which President was first to appear on television -- and your immediate response is to wonder whether the answer will be in a paid database or on a free website?
Second, click on our "databases" menu option. Go ahead, click on it. What do you get? An alphabetical listing of databases. Talk about putting the Source first! Before you can even start to find the answer, you have to know the bleeding name of the database.
Who arranges things that way? Those who are stuck in the Age of Source.
Is it any wonder that most patrons turn first to Google, or that they accept the first answer they find (usually in Wikipedia)? Reference librarians, be honest: except for the few databases you use all the time, don't you usually go to Google first?
So what would be better? For training, sure, review sources: but concentrate much more on search strategies. Stop quizzing people on print sources and endlessly updating those quizzes. If the power goes out, we're just going to have to muddle through.
One the website, let's eliminate the distinction between databases and recommended websites.
And if not an alphabetical listing of databases, then what? Ideally, we would have what patrons expect: a search box, which would use some kind of magical federated searching to select the right databases and websites for the questioner. I know that's beyond our means right now, but fortunately a second-best solution already exists: a subject index to databases and recommended websites. Staff and patrons shouldn't have to be intimately familiar with the sources; they should concentrate on the question.
Let's make a subject listing of databases and websites the default. The alphabetical index can still be there, just don't make it the first thing that comes up.
The Age of Source is over. Except for power failures...and during a power failure, you can't access the databases and recommended websites anyway.
The Age of Search is here. Has been here for a long time. It's a new millennium, a new century, and we're coming up on a new decade.
When will we give up the past and join the present?
In the Olden Days, before the Web and search engines, the key to being a good reference librarian was to know your sources. Picking the right source was essential to getting the answer. (If you look very closely, you'll see that one of the behaviors correlated with reference success is still "finds answer in first source consulted.")
It's hard for librarians who have grown up with the Web to appreciate how important it was to be familiar with sources. Take a simple example: Which U.S. President was the first to speak on the radio? Now before you hit Google, let's pretend that there's a power failure and you have no internet access. I guarantee you, the answer is in your branch: what is it?
If you are aware of the reference book Famous First Facts, you will be able to find out that Warren G. Harding. If you aren't, you'll still be looking when the power comes back.
Another one (remember, no internet): When was Hurricane Agnes? You could scour the weather books, or you could look in Chase's Calendar and find it was June 14-23, 1972.
The point here is not that knowing the proper reference source can help when the power goes out. The point is that in the past, knowing the proper reference source was all there was. The source wasn't just the first thing, it was the only thing.
Today we don't need to worry about being familiar with sources. We have search engines, which keep up with the sources much better than we ever could. Today, the source isn't the first thing, second thing, or often even the tenth thing; the first thing is knowing how to structure your search terms.
We are no longer in the Age of Source; we are now in the Age of Search.
Trouble is, some folks who came up during the Age of Source have not made the adjustment. Some of them are not even aware that there's an adjustment to be made.
We still train our new people as if we were in the Age of Source. We have a Core Reference Collection of the "best sources," and our new folks spend incredible amounts of time familiarizing themselves with the Core Sources. Enormous amounts of time and effort go into updating and maintaining the Core Reference training assignments. I don't know who sits there correcting page numbers and writing new questions every time a print source is updated, but I have to wonder if their time couldn't be better spent.
We treat databases and websites as if Source was the only thing. First of all, on our website we separate paid databases from recommended websites...to enormous confusion among staff and patrons. Imagine that someone asks you which President was first to appear on television -- and your immediate response is to wonder whether the answer will be in a paid database or on a free website?
Second, click on our "databases" menu option. Go ahead, click on it. What do you get? An alphabetical listing of databases. Talk about putting the Source first! Before you can even start to find the answer, you have to know the bleeding name of the database.
Who arranges things that way? Those who are stuck in the Age of Source.
Is it any wonder that most patrons turn first to Google, or that they accept the first answer they find (usually in Wikipedia)? Reference librarians, be honest: except for the few databases you use all the time, don't you usually go to Google first?
So what would be better? For training, sure, review sources: but concentrate much more on search strategies. Stop quizzing people on print sources and endlessly updating those quizzes. If the power goes out, we're just going to have to muddle through.
One the website, let's eliminate the distinction between databases and recommended websites.
And if not an alphabetical listing of databases, then what? Ideally, we would have what patrons expect: a search box, which would use some kind of magical federated searching to select the right databases and websites for the questioner. I know that's beyond our means right now, but fortunately a second-best solution already exists: a subject index to databases and recommended websites. Staff and patrons shouldn't have to be intimately familiar with the sources; they should concentrate on the question.
Let's make a subject listing of databases and websites the default. The alphabetical index can still be there, just don't make it the first thing that comes up.
The Age of Source is over. Except for power failures...and during a power failure, you can't access the databases and recommended websites anyway.
The Age of Search is here. Has been here for a long time. It's a new millennium, a new century, and we're coming up on a new decade.
When will we give up the past and join the present?
23 December 2009
Ornaments
Here's one of the ornaments that I gave to staff here at BCY. These were designed & made by my husband Thomas Atkinson (@darthmarmalade on Twitter). They're acrylic, about 3 x 2 inches. You can't really make it out in the picture, but they are laser-etched with the inscription "BCY HAPPY HOLIDAYS 2009" (except they don't say "BCY," they have the real branch abbreviation).
Some were green, some were red. There's also a single black one, which I kept for myself.
12 December 2009
Jabberwabby or Something
I just found these notes that I jotted down following a staff-patron interaction from sometime in the 1990s. This was too good not to share.
(And yes, I do know who the "Clueless Wonder" was. The person is no longer associated with our system, but I'm not going to give the name.)
----------
I set the scene. Don is standing at his station, placing holds for a large thousand-year-old woman ("Grandma") who wanted every book that Oprah had ever featured, discussed, or thought about. A staff member we will call “C.W.” (for “Clueless Wonder”) is at her station, to Don's left.
A teenage girl (let's call her Ashley) approaches C.W., with appropriate sound f/x of snapping gum and three "y'knows" for every two actual words.)
Ashley: My teacher said I had to read a poem called, um, Jabberwabby or something.
C.W.: (frowning) Uh...do you know how to spell it?
Ashley: Uh, hold on. (rummages through her backpack, pulls out a crumpled paper, squints) Uh, it's J...A...B...
C.W.: "B" like "Boy"?
Ashley: Uh, I guess. Here (hands C.W. the paper)
C.W.: (squinting at paper) Oh...kay. (types furiously. frowns. types again. frowns again. clicks the mouse a few times for good luck. types again. frowns and grunts.) Hmmm. I don't see it listed anywhere.
Don: (aside, to C.W., while holding a finger up to silence Grandma for a moment in the middle of The Deep End of the Ocean) C.W., it's in Alice in Wonderland. (returns attention to Grandma, knowing full well that it's actually in Through the Looking Glass, but figuring that anyone with at least a Bachelor's Degree would know what he meant.)
C.W.: Oh, okay. (types furiously, frowns, types, clicks, frowns, grunts, frowns, clicks, clicks, types, types, grunts, frowns) (to Don) Uh, I can't find it.
Don: (aside to C.W., while holding a finger up to silence Grandma in between Drowning Ruth and The House of Sand and Fog) Try "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."
C.W.: Oh, okay, thanks. (types, clicks, frowns, grunts, and then executes the ever-difficult triple-click-and-frown with double grunt, earning a 9.3 from the Russians) Uh... (silent appeal to Don with deep, brown eyes that have never been tainted by the slightest trace of a clue)
Don: (aside to C.W., not even bothering to pause Grandma at We Were the Mulvaneys) C.W., just go check the shelves under "Lewis Carroll" and you'll find it.
C.W.: Oh, okay, thanks. (to Ashley) Come on. (Departs the desk, leading Ashley in the direction of Adult Fiction) [Alice, meanwhile, is on the Children's Fiction shelves.]
Don: (sighs and explains to Grandma that no, she doesn't want the Bible, she wants The Poisonwood Bible)
Ten minutes later, C.W. returns to the desk with Ashley in tow. C.W. is triumphantly clutching a tattered paperback of Alice. She quiveringly holds it in Don's direction.
C.W.: I finally found one in the Classics section. Uh...
Don: (face frozen in Professional Smile Number Six, the one that shows his venom-dripping canines to best advantage) Here, let me see. (flips through the book, gets to Through the Looking Glass, recognizes the White Knight and so knows he's in the right neighborhood, then opens to p. 134-136. Briefly considers pointing C.W. toward the mirror-image first verse,
but then takes pity on her and indicates the start of "Jabberwocky" without a word.)
C.W.: Oh, okay, thanks. (hands the book to Ashley.) Does this look like it?
Don turns away, thinking that it was much pleasanter at home, when one wasn't always growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about by mice and rabbits.
(And yes, I do know who the "Clueless Wonder" was. The person is no longer associated with our system, but I'm not going to give the name.)
----------
I set the scene. Don is standing at his station, placing holds for a large thousand-year-old woman ("Grandma") who wanted every book that Oprah had ever featured, discussed, or thought about. A staff member we will call “C.W.” (for “Clueless Wonder”) is at her station, to Don's left.
A teenage girl (let's call her Ashley) approaches C.W., with appropriate sound f/x of snapping gum and three "y'knows" for every two actual words.)
Ashley: My teacher said I had to read a poem called, um, Jabberwabby or something.
C.W.: (frowning) Uh...do you know how to spell it?
Ashley: Uh, hold on. (rummages through her backpack, pulls out a crumpled paper, squints) Uh, it's J...A...B...
C.W.: "B" like "Boy"?
Ashley: Uh, I guess. Here (hands C.W. the paper)
C.W.: (squinting at paper) Oh...kay. (types furiously. frowns. types again. frowns again. clicks the mouse a few times for good luck. types again. frowns and grunts.) Hmmm. I don't see it listed anywhere.
Don: (aside, to C.W., while holding a finger up to silence Grandma for a moment in the middle of The Deep End of the Ocean) C.W., it's in Alice in Wonderland. (returns attention to Grandma, knowing full well that it's actually in Through the Looking Glass, but figuring that anyone with at least a Bachelor's Degree would know what he meant.)
C.W.: Oh, okay. (types furiously, frowns, types, clicks, frowns, grunts, frowns, clicks, clicks, types, types, grunts, frowns) (to Don) Uh, I can't find it.
Don: (aside to C.W., while holding a finger up to silence Grandma in between Drowning Ruth and The House of Sand and Fog) Try "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."
C.W.: Oh, okay, thanks. (types, clicks, frowns, grunts, and then executes the ever-difficult triple-click-and-frown with double grunt, earning a 9.3 from the Russians) Uh... (silent appeal to Don with deep, brown eyes that have never been tainted by the slightest trace of a clue)
Don: (aside to C.W., not even bothering to pause Grandma at We Were the Mulvaneys) C.W., just go check the shelves under "Lewis Carroll" and you'll find it.
C.W.: Oh, okay, thanks. (to Ashley) Come on. (Departs the desk, leading Ashley in the direction of Adult Fiction) [Alice, meanwhile, is on the Children's Fiction shelves.]
Don: (sighs and explains to Grandma that no, she doesn't want the Bible, she wants The Poisonwood Bible)
Ten minutes later, C.W. returns to the desk with Ashley in tow. C.W. is triumphantly clutching a tattered paperback of Alice. She quiveringly holds it in Don's direction.
C.W.: I finally found one in the Classics section. Uh...
Don: (face frozen in Professional Smile Number Six, the one that shows his venom-dripping canines to best advantage) Here, let me see. (flips through the book, gets to Through the Looking Glass, recognizes the White Knight and so knows he's in the right neighborhood, then opens to p. 134-136. Briefly considers pointing C.W. toward the mirror-image first verse,
but then takes pity on her and indicates the start of "Jabberwocky" without a word.)C.W.: Oh, okay, thanks. (hands the book to Ashley.) Does this look like it?
Don turns away, thinking that it was much pleasanter at home, when one wasn't always growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about by mice and rabbits.
04 December 2009
The More Things Change....
The More Things Change...
Did you know that our organization once practiced censorship? It's true. Just like the Vatican, we had a list of "forbidden books" that would not be purchased and could not be ordered through interlibrary loan.
Here's a quote from the January 1987 Newsletter, reporting on the November 1986 Board meeting:
Today we have no "forbidden" list of items that can't be ordered through interlibrary loan. And incidentally, the staff member who reported this was to succeed Mr. Marshall many years later. I'm just sayin'....
...The More Things Stay The Same.
From the Staff Newsletter March 1979:
Did you know that our organization once practiced censorship? It's true. Just like the Vatican, we had a list of "forbidden books" that would not be purchased and could not be ordered through interlibrary loan.
Here's a quote from the January 1987 Newsletter, reporting on the November 1986 Board meeting:
Mr. Marshall replied to the Board's request for information on the list of books that will not be bought by the system, and may not be requested through MILO. A Board member questioned why these books were not available through Interlibrary Loan. Mr. Marshall explained that it was felt that the system should not give its problems to another system by offering this option, and that after making the decision not to buy these for our patrons we should stand by that decision. After discussion, the Board indicated that the list should remain.
Today we have no "forbidden" list of items that can't be ordered through interlibrary loan. And incidentally, the staff member who reported this was to succeed Mr. Marshall many years later. I'm just sayin'....
...The More Things Stay The Same.
From the Staff Newsletter March 1979:
The staff development meeting on merchandising techniques held in January received high marks from staff members in their overall impressions of the meeting...
Odenton arrived at an entirely new floor plan based on the techniques articulated at the meeting; moving of furniture and materials took place there on February 28. Most participants felt they would apply material presented directly to displays created in the branches -- using face-out stocking where possible and experimenting with vertical shelving techniques so that all sizes of patrons could reach materials easily. Most also agreed that the most serious obstacle to more effective merchandising of materials was the lack of appropriate display fixtures and shelving...
24 November 2009
25 Years Ago
Selections from the Staff Newsletter November 1984:
(as always, names of current staff and branches have been disguised)
September 1985 Board Meeting
"Financially, the...Library System is in good shape with all figures in the black. In the new 1985 budget, personal services is up $700,000.00 dur to six new positions in the library system and also several additional benefits for retirees. Mr. Patterson said that funds may need to be transferred to the education fund which is used heavily by the staff. He reported that the majority of courses (70-80%) are taken at the...Community College and most others are completed at the University of [our State]."
"Ms. Pinder mentioned a number of changes that will take place at the West Street Branch to accommodate an automated syst4em. The circulation desk will be raised and a new information counter installed. Following this introduction, John McGarty, Chief of Technical Services, conducted a tour of the information area at West Street and demonstrated the computer for trustees. West Street is wcheduled to be on-line by December 31, 1984."
"In the Administrator's Report, Ms. Pinder stated that circulation statistics were down with West Street and McKinsey figures being most notable. All agreed that the opening of the new Cape St. C Branch probably had affected the statistics of these two branches. Video circulations were also down, but a borrowing rule to allow one video check-out per card rather than one per family may help, it was reported."
"Ms. Pinder also reported on the many varied activities that took place in the branches for the summer reading program. The program drew 1,667 children countywide."
"For this year, Mr. Hall suggested that the Board consider closing the branches all day Christmas Eve, as the 24th falls on a Monday and only four branches are open to the public Monday mornings. This proposal was unanimously approved."
"Mr. Hall informed the Board of the all-day General Staff Meeting on October 31 at the Ft. Meade Officer's Club. The staff has become too large to fit comfortably into a branch, especially for an all-day meeting."
"Building projects and problems were discussed briefly. The Fort M Branch site will be proposed and defended before the County Council on October 1, plans for the West Street addition are moving ahead, and money is available for the Mayo Branch site. Land adjoining the Odenton Branch will be graded for better visibility exiting the parking area."
Nancy Rea
Staff Association Representative
The four-page Newsletter from November 1984 is available in pdf format here. It's in the AACPL folder.
(as always, names of current staff and branches have been disguised)
September 1985 Board Meeting
"Financially, the...Library System is in good shape with all figures in the black. In the new 1985 budget, personal services is up $700,000.00 dur to six new positions in the library system and also several additional benefits for retirees. Mr. Patterson said that funds may need to be transferred to the education fund which is used heavily by the staff. He reported that the majority of courses (70-80%) are taken at the...Community College and most others are completed at the University of [our State]."
"Ms. Pinder mentioned a number of changes that will take place at the West Street Branch to accommodate an automated syst4em. The circulation desk will be raised and a new information counter installed. Following this introduction, John McGarty, Chief of Technical Services, conducted a tour of the information area at West Street and demonstrated the computer for trustees. West Street is wcheduled to be on-line by December 31, 1984."
"In the Administrator's Report, Ms. Pinder stated that circulation statistics were down with West Street and McKinsey figures being most notable. All agreed that the opening of the new Cape St. C Branch probably had affected the statistics of these two branches. Video circulations were also down, but a borrowing rule to allow one video check-out per card rather than one per family may help, it was reported."
"Ms. Pinder also reported on the many varied activities that took place in the branches for the summer reading program. The program drew 1,667 children countywide."
"For this year, Mr. Hall suggested that the Board consider closing the branches all day Christmas Eve, as the 24th falls on a Monday and only four branches are open to the public Monday mornings. This proposal was unanimously approved."
"Mr. Hall informed the Board of the all-day General Staff Meeting on October 31 at the Ft. Meade Officer's Club. The staff has become too large to fit comfortably into a branch, especially for an all-day meeting."
"Building projects and problems were discussed briefly. The Fort M Branch site will be proposed and defended before the County Council on October 1, plans for the West Street addition are moving ahead, and money is available for the Mayo Branch site. Land adjoining the Odenton Branch will be graded for better visibility exiting the parking area."
Nancy Rea
Staff Association Representative
The four-page Newsletter from November 1984 is available in pdf format here. It's in the AACPL folder.
23 October 2009
The Part of the Question You DIDN'T Hear Answered
At today's General Staff Meeting, the Administration answered pre-submitted questions from the Staff. It appears that only one question was submitted. Something was read, and the Administration response was given.
What you don't know is that you only heard part of of the question. I know, because I am the one who submitted it.
Here's what the Administration responded to: "I was disappointed that staff were asked to pay for their own incentive awards through the Staff Association. It seems to send the message that [the orgnization] appreciates us as long as it doesn’t cost anything."
Here's the rest of the question, which you didn't hear, and which the Administration did not respond to:
"Was any consideration given to funding the awards by asking Board Members to each kick in twenty-five bucks or so, or taking up a collection from senior management?"
We can all guess why this question wasn't read or answered. It would embarrass the Administration. And the fact that the question wasn't answered tells us what the answer is: no. No consideration was given to having the top brass chip in to fund the incentive awards.
Now maybe that's because their consideration hadn't reached that point when the Staff Association volunteered to pay for the awards. That's an innocent enough explanation. But if so, why bother to avoid the question?
I guess we all have to draw our own conclusions.
----------
UPDATE: Please see Nancy's answer in the comments.
And a side comment to those who've told me how surprised they were that I asked the question to begin with, or who told me that they didn't send in questions because they were afraid: I felt completely comfortable with my original question and this blog post because it's my experience that our Administration is willing to answer questions and address staff concerns. The Administration understands that disagreements are a fact of life, and simply asking a question is not going to get you in trouble.
It didn't used to be like that here, and I understand it's not like that in a lot of other organizations. Freedom to ask questions and voice concerns is one of the real strengths of our system.
What you don't know is that you only heard part of of the question. I know, because I am the one who submitted it.
Here's what the Administration responded to: "I was disappointed that staff were asked to pay for their own incentive awards through the Staff Association. It seems to send the message that [the orgnization] appreciates us as long as it doesn’t cost anything."
Here's the rest of the question, which you didn't hear, and which the Administration did not respond to:
"Was any consideration given to funding the awards by asking Board Members to each kick in twenty-five bucks or so, or taking up a collection from senior management?"
We can all guess why this question wasn't read or answered. It would embarrass the Administration. And the fact that the question wasn't answered tells us what the answer is: no. No consideration was given to having the top brass chip in to fund the incentive awards.
Now maybe that's because their consideration hadn't reached that point when the Staff Association volunteered to pay for the awards. That's an innocent enough explanation. But if so, why bother to avoid the question?
I guess we all have to draw our own conclusions.
----------
UPDATE: Please see Nancy's answer in the comments.
And a side comment to those who've told me how surprised they were that I asked the question to begin with, or who told me that they didn't send in questions because they were afraid: I felt completely comfortable with my original question and this blog post because it's my experience that our Administration is willing to answer questions and address staff concerns. The Administration understands that disagreements are a fact of life, and simply asking a question is not going to get you in trouble.
It didn't used to be like that here, and I understand it's not like that in a lot of other organizations. Freedom to ask questions and voice concerns is one of the real strengths of our system.
12 October 2009
Why Do We Say "21 Days"?
When we tell patrons how long they can check out materials, we always say "21 days." (Well, okay, sometimes we say "3 days" or "14 days.") Have you wondered why we never say "Three weeks"?
As with everything else in our organization, the answer begins with the words "Many years ago, we used to..." So here we go:
Many years ago, we used to use a primitive checkout system based on McBee cards and a huge, hulking camera device called a Regiscope (which rather resembled a huge Mr. Coffee without the carafe).
Here's how it worked. Every week, we opened a new box of McBee cards with a pre-stamped due date (due dates were always on Saturdays). For each checkout, the staffer would open the back of the book to reveal a pocket bearing typed details about the book: Author, title, subject, copy number, etc. (Actually, this pocket was usually a duplicate catalog card glued down on the sides and bottom, leaving the top open.) I couldn't find a good picture of this arrangement online, so I took one, with a pink bookmark standing in for the McBee card. For procedural reasons (and to maintain the illusion of confidentiality) I must tell you that the name of the institution on the card probably has no relationship at all to the real institution I work for.
Next, the staffer placed the patron's library card underneath the pocket, with (typed) name, address, and phone number showing. All of this was slid under the Regiscope lens. (If you imagine the Regiscope as a giant Mr. Coffee, the open book sat on the hotplate, facing up towards the outflow spout.)
Staffer pressed a button, there was a flash of light and a whirring sound, and the Regiscope took a picture of McBee card, book pocket, and patron library card. Then on to the next checkout.
That was Step One.
As the Regiscope's film spool filled, it was taken out and sent down to Headquarters. At the end of the week the film came out, filled or not. Saturday afternoon, all the films and unused McBee cards got packed up and sent to HDQ. Each McBee card had its own unique serial number: the branch kept track of which numbers had been used and that gave us circulation statistics.
On Monday morning (or Sunday if your branch was open), the whole dance started again with fresh films, a fresh set of McBee cards, and a new due date for the week.
That was Step Two.
Step Three came as patrons returned their books. Staff pulled out the McBee cards and tossed them in a bin. Now the sorting began. (Actually, sorting McBeen cards was a continuous process that occupied circ staff every minute of every day.)
Returned McBee cards were first sorted by due date. Then, circ staff attacked them with McBee needles. I wish I had a video of this process, because it was really something to see; I'll try to paint a word picture.
Start with a stack of McBee cards -- not the puny few in the pictures above, but dozens, even hundreds. Stick the needle in the first hole and shove it all the way down the stack. Pick up the whole stack by the needle and shake. Some cards will fall out: move them to the back of the stack and repeat, this time sticking the needle in hole #2. Shake, move, repeat until you've done this for all the holes.
The trick is, the holes on the sides of the McBee cards were notched in a very clever pattern such that when this whole process was finished, you were holding a stack of cards in perfect serial number order.
That was Step Four.
Eventually, if all books had been returned, you would have all the McBee cards that you'd used for a particular due date. But we know that never happened -- inevitably, some books were not returned by the cutoff date. (I don't remember how the cutoff date was determined...was it three weeks after the due date? A month? Six weeks? I don't know. Someone help me out here.)
Step Five, and this was the key step, involved looking through the returned McBee cards to identify which ones were missing. Those represented books that hadn't been returned.
So now the circ staff sat with the in-order McBee cards and counted them off, noting which ones were missing. The missing serial numbers were carefully written down and sent to Headquarters.
Now the poor clerical staff at HDQ went to work. Remember, they had all the Regiscope films for all the branches, filed by due date. A clerk sat at a machine something like a microfilm reader/printer and scanned the films for the missing serial numbers. When they found one, they printed out the image. (You can see how important it was for the branch to use McBee cards strictly in serial number order. Each Regiscope at the branch had its own independent supply of in-order McBee cards.)
Finally, those images were gathered together and sent to patrons as overdue notices ("Our records indicate that this book was not returned...")
In theory, there was the potential for further follow-up...but I don't know if we ever did any. (Did we send out second or third overdue notices? Anyone know?) The clerks were alert for the names of heavy abusers, and every once in a long while there would be a memo with the name & address of some patron with multiple overdues, so staff could be aware.
And the missing McBee cards? In the fullness of time (I don't know if this was months later or what), replacements were made for any cards still missing, and whole batches were stamped with a new due date. Ah, the eternal cycle of nature begins again....
Besides the intense labor needed to keep this system running, there were plenty of opportunities for mistakes. A McBee card that became mangled or ripped was hard to process and might wind up the entirely the wrong place (oldtimers might remember the saying "do not fold, spindle, or mutilate.") Sometimes staff missed pulling a McBee card out of a returned book. (Pages were trained to open the back of each book before shelving it, to check for McBee cards and for branch ownership -- that's why you might occasionally see a real old-timer absently open the back cover of a book and stare at the back page for a moment. Often we're not even aware that we're doing it.) And gods help the staffer who dropped a stack of in-order McBee cards....
McBee cards went astray in the strangest ways: stuck behind drawers or fallen down cracks in the desk; playing hide-and-seek on the shelves or elsewhere in the branch; falling to the floor of the delivery truck; eaten by the family dog. On at least one occasion, a truck carrying a whole load of McBee cards suffered a door malfunction and lost a few boxes on Ritchie Highway. (This gave us a foretaste of what a hard drive crash would be like.) Patrons returned books without the McBee cards all the time. (And you think it's tough getting them to leave the orange bands on MARINA items!)
Unscrupulous patrons learned that they could bring McBee cards back to the library and leave them hither and yon, thus getting away with stealing books. In my high school, this was a tactic well-known to all the kids. Sometimes the Regiscope went wacky and a single frame (or possibly a whole roll) was ruined.
Plus, the whole thing was so labor-intensive that cataloging, pocketing, checking out, and sending overdue notices cost five or ten dollars in staff time per book. So when we started carrying paperbacks, we didn't bother cataloging them or using the whole Regiscope/McBee process: we just stamped them with a due date and tallied the number checked out for our circulation count. Did we lose a lot of paperbacks? Who knows?
One more note: On the book pocket pictured above, you'll notice a lot of handwritten numbers in various colors. This was our ingenious solution to the problem of tracking checkouts. When a book was returned, circ staff wrote the number of the month on the pocket. Each year had a different color. That way, when info people were reviewing their portion of the collection, they could see how many times the book had checked out (or not) and how recently. A book with very few handwritten numbers didn't check out very often, and so was a prime candidate for weeding. (Catalog cards had an accession date, which was also helpful.)
So now you know way too much about the way we used to check out books. Now we can get back to the question I posed at the beginning: Why do we say "21 days" instead of "3 weeks"?
Well, you see, back in the Bad Old Days all materials, no matter what day you checked them out, were due three weeks from Saturday. When we started phasing in our computer circulation system in December 1983, due dates changed to an exact 21 days from the date of checkout. We needed to re-train both staff and patrons who were used to the old state of affairs. So we started to refer to the due date as "21 days" in order to highlight the difference between the old and new systems.
That was 26 years ago; the transition to the computerized system was complete more than 20 years ago. Interesting how patterns like this, once established, can stay for decades. I suppose that's part of what makes anthropology so fun.
One final thought: Just in case you think of your pre-computer predecessors as being simple and hopelessly unsophisticated, remember that every single person who worked with this bizarre and complex system understood exactly how it worked. It isn't that we were simple; it was just that our heads were all too full of all this nonsense to allow much else. :)
----------
ADDENDUM #1: Skip reminds me of two things I forgot. First, the machine at HDQ that made prints used the old wet-copy process: special paper (which tasted awful) and smeary, blurred copies (which looked awful.)
Also, for the last three years or so, while branches were computerizing, we saved money by not having film in the Regiscopes at all. That's right: we just went through the motions of checking out books, but no record was kept and no overdue notices sent.
I seem to remember that each Regiscope had a little manual readout like the odometer on your father's Oldsmobile: at the end of each day we recorded that number, which gave us that day's circulation numbers. (Imagine getting circ figures on a daily basis.) Since the odometers worked even when there was no film, we were still able to keep circulation statistics during this period.
Thanks, Skip!
----------
ADDENDUM #2: Apparently the habit of saying "21 days" is not as widespread as I thought. It turns out that a fair number of staffers say "three weeks" as a matter of course. Good. It shows that habits need not last for 20+ years beyond their rationale. We can grow and change. :)
As with everything else in our organization, the answer begins with the words "Many years ago, we used to..." So here we go:
Many years ago, we used to use a primitive checkout system based on McBee cards and a huge, hulking camera device called a Regiscope (which rather resembled a huge Mr. Coffee without the carafe).
Here's how it worked. Every week, we opened a new box of McBee cards with a pre-stamped due date (due dates were always on Saturdays). For each checkout, the staffer would open the back of the book to reveal a pocket bearing typed details about the book: Author, title, subject, copy number, etc. (Actually, this pocket was usually a duplicate catalog card glued down on the sides and bottom, leaving the top open.) I couldn't find a good picture of this arrangement online, so I took one, with a pink bookmark standing in for the McBee card. For procedural reasons (and to maintain the illusion of confidentiality) I must tell you that the name of the institution on the card probably has no relationship at all to the real institution I work for.
Next, the staffer placed the patron's library card underneath the pocket, with (typed) name, address, and phone number showing. All of this was slid under the Regiscope lens. (If you imagine the Regiscope as a giant Mr. Coffee, the open book sat on the hotplate, facing up towards the outflow spout.)
Staffer pressed a button, there was a flash of light and a whirring sound, and the Regiscope took a picture of McBee card, book pocket, and patron library card. Then on to the next checkout.
That was Step One.
As the Regiscope's film spool filled, it was taken out and sent down to Headquarters. At the end of the week the film came out, filled or not. Saturday afternoon, all the films and unused McBee cards got packed up and sent to HDQ. Each McBee card had its own unique serial number: the branch kept track of which numbers had been used and that gave us circulation statistics.
On Monday morning (or Sunday if your branch was open), the whole dance started again with fresh films, a fresh set of McBee cards, and a new due date for the week.
That was Step Two.
Step Three came as patrons returned their books. Staff pulled out the McBee cards and tossed them in a bin. Now the sorting began. (Actually, sorting McBeen cards was a continuous process that occupied circ staff every minute of every day.)
Returned McBee cards were first sorted by due date. Then, circ staff attacked them with McBee needles. I wish I had a video of this process, because it was really something to see; I'll try to paint a word picture.
Start with a stack of McBee cards -- not the puny few in the pictures above, but dozens, even hundreds. Stick the needle in the first hole and shove it all the way down the stack. Pick up the whole stack by the needle and shake. Some cards will fall out: move them to the back of the stack and repeat, this time sticking the needle in hole #2. Shake, move, repeat until you've done this for all the holes.
The trick is, the holes on the sides of the McBee cards were notched in a very clever pattern such that when this whole process was finished, you were holding a stack of cards in perfect serial number order.
That was Step Four.
Eventually, if all books had been returned, you would have all the McBee cards that you'd used for a particular due date. But we know that never happened -- inevitably, some books were not returned by the cutoff date. (I don't remember how the cutoff date was determined...was it three weeks after the due date? A month? Six weeks? I don't know. Someone help me out here.)
Step Five, and this was the key step, involved looking through the returned McBee cards to identify which ones were missing. Those represented books that hadn't been returned.
So now the circ staff sat with the in-order McBee cards and counted them off, noting which ones were missing. The missing serial numbers were carefully written down and sent to Headquarters.
Now the poor clerical staff at HDQ went to work. Remember, they had all the Regiscope films for all the branches, filed by due date. A clerk sat at a machine something like a microfilm reader/printer and scanned the films for the missing serial numbers. When they found one, they printed out the image. (You can see how important it was for the branch to use McBee cards strictly in serial number order. Each Regiscope at the branch had its own independent supply of in-order McBee cards.)
Finally, those images were gathered together and sent to patrons as overdue notices ("Our records indicate that this book was not returned...")
In theory, there was the potential for further follow-up...but I don't know if we ever did any. (Did we send out second or third overdue notices? Anyone know?) The clerks were alert for the names of heavy abusers, and every once in a long while there would be a memo with the name & address of some patron with multiple overdues, so staff could be aware.
And the missing McBee cards? In the fullness of time (I don't know if this was months later or what), replacements were made for any cards still missing, and whole batches were stamped with a new due date. Ah, the eternal cycle of nature begins again....
Besides the intense labor needed to keep this system running, there were plenty of opportunities for mistakes. A McBee card that became mangled or ripped was hard to process and might wind up the entirely the wrong place (oldtimers might remember the saying "do not fold, spindle, or mutilate.") Sometimes staff missed pulling a McBee card out of a returned book. (Pages were trained to open the back of each book before shelving it, to check for McBee cards and for branch ownership -- that's why you might occasionally see a real old-timer absently open the back cover of a book and stare at the back page for a moment. Often we're not even aware that we're doing it.) And gods help the staffer who dropped a stack of in-order McBee cards....
McBee cards went astray in the strangest ways: stuck behind drawers or fallen down cracks in the desk; playing hide-and-seek on the shelves or elsewhere in the branch; falling to the floor of the delivery truck; eaten by the family dog. On at least one occasion, a truck carrying a whole load of McBee cards suffered a door malfunction and lost a few boxes on Ritchie Highway. (This gave us a foretaste of what a hard drive crash would be like.) Patrons returned books without the McBee cards all the time. (And you think it's tough getting them to leave the orange bands on MARINA items!)
Unscrupulous patrons learned that they could bring McBee cards back to the library and leave them hither and yon, thus getting away with stealing books. In my high school, this was a tactic well-known to all the kids. Sometimes the Regiscope went wacky and a single frame (or possibly a whole roll) was ruined.
Plus, the whole thing was so labor-intensive that cataloging, pocketing, checking out, and sending overdue notices cost five or ten dollars in staff time per book. So when we started carrying paperbacks, we didn't bother cataloging them or using the whole Regiscope/McBee process: we just stamped them with a due date and tallied the number checked out for our circulation count. Did we lose a lot of paperbacks? Who knows?
One more note: On the book pocket pictured above, you'll notice a lot of handwritten numbers in various colors. This was our ingenious solution to the problem of tracking checkouts. When a book was returned, circ staff wrote the number of the month on the pocket. Each year had a different color. That way, when info people were reviewing their portion of the collection, they could see how many times the book had checked out (or not) and how recently. A book with very few handwritten numbers didn't check out very often, and so was a prime candidate for weeding. (Catalog cards had an accession date, which was also helpful.)
So now you know way too much about the way we used to check out books. Now we can get back to the question I posed at the beginning: Why do we say "21 days" instead of "3 weeks"?
Well, you see, back in the Bad Old Days all materials, no matter what day you checked them out, were due three weeks from Saturday. When we started phasing in our computer circulation system in December 1983, due dates changed to an exact 21 days from the date of checkout. We needed to re-train both staff and patrons who were used to the old state of affairs. So we started to refer to the due date as "21 days" in order to highlight the difference between the old and new systems.
That was 26 years ago; the transition to the computerized system was complete more than 20 years ago. Interesting how patterns like this, once established, can stay for decades. I suppose that's part of what makes anthropology so fun.
One final thought: Just in case you think of your pre-computer predecessors as being simple and hopelessly unsophisticated, remember that every single person who worked with this bizarre and complex system understood exactly how it worked. It isn't that we were simple; it was just that our heads were all too full of all this nonsense to allow much else. :)
----------
ADDENDUM #1: Skip reminds me of two things I forgot. First, the machine at HDQ that made prints used the old wet-copy process: special paper (which tasted awful) and smeary, blurred copies (which looked awful.)
Also, for the last three years or so, while branches were computerizing, we saved money by not having film in the Regiscopes at all. That's right: we just went through the motions of checking out books, but no record was kept and no overdue notices sent.
I seem to remember that each Regiscope had a little manual readout like the odometer on your father's Oldsmobile: at the end of each day we recorded that number, which gave us that day's circulation numbers. (Imagine getting circ figures on a daily basis.) Since the odometers worked even when there was no film, we were still able to keep circulation statistics during this period.
Thanks, Skip!----------
ADDENDUM #2: Apparently the habit of saying "21 days" is not as widespread as I thought. It turns out that a fair number of staffers say "three weeks" as a matter of course. Good. It shows that habits need not last for 20+ years beyond their rationale. We can grow and change. :)
28 September 2009
From the Newsletter September 1987
(As usual, name have been changed when necessary)
----------
Ending an Era
Editor's note: Our organization was one of the first public libraries in the area to provide book catalogs of its holdings for library patrons. Since the catalogs were introduced in the late 1960s, Science Press in Steling, Virginia, has been the library's only vendor. The decision to move to a CD-ROM-based catalog brings the long and happy relationship between us and Science Press to a close. Mr. Hall sent a letter to Alfred Baker, vice president of Science Press, thanking the company for its quality service and database work which has "made our conversion to an automated circulation system much easier." Following is the letter he received in response.
----------
For those who don't remember those Science Press catalogs, they were phone-book-size hardcover books filled with column after column of dense print. There were three volumes: author, title, and subject, and they were printed every couple of years. Periodic supplements took care of materials that were added to the collection in the in-between years.
These listings -- supposedly conformed with the Master Shelf List at HDQ (which itself was supposedly conformed with each branch's Shelf List) -- reflected almost everything the Library had purchased and not formally discarded. (Paperbacks were not included.)
There were no branch locations, no authority control, and very little provision for inventory control. (Every once in a long while, maybe once a decade, branches did an inventory, comparing their holdings to the Shelf List...I don't recall what provision we made for books that were checked out.) With all due respect to the hard-working clerks in Technical Services, too often the catalog looked like it had been typed by an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters.
Information service was something of a crapshoot, to say the least. If a patron requested a particular title, we would start calling branches, on the phone, for a "book check." Remember, we had no way of knowing if a particular title was checked out. Down the alphabet we would go, until we found a copy ("Good, send it here") or -- much more likely -- ran out of branches.
After a time on the Information Desk, you got to know which branches were more likely to have particular types of books. This branch had a good collection of boating & sailing books. That branch had a lot of car-repair books. If you wanted older fiction, call this other branch...they never threw anything out. Ah, those were the days when experience really counted...you young whippersnappers don't know how good you have it! (Did I mention that we had to walk ten miles to work every day...uphill? In the snow?)
If the book wasn't in anywhere, out came the dreaded "pink slip" (aka Intralibrary Loan Request). The pink slip included call number, author, title, branch, and patron name/phone number. Every day, each branch sent out dozens of these pink slips. Every day, dozens more arrived in delivery. Branch staff took the received pink slips and went to the shelves to search for the books. Those that were found, were sent to the requesting branch. Those that weren't found joined the outgoing flood.
So went the pink slips, round-robin fashion, from branch to branch. They probably took weeks to make the round trip of the system. I don't remember how many times a slip would make the rounds, although I seem to remember some that were marked "2nd try" or "3rd try."
In the fullness of time, if a book wasn't found, we would phone the patron: "Two months ago you requested this book...do you still want it?" If the patron still wanted the book, the request went out by ILL -- to other library systems that were undoubtedly doing the same laborious process.
The downside of this complex and pointless-seeming dance was that patrons very seldom got the book they wanted.
One upside was that patron expectations were not really high. On the rare occasions when someone did get the book they wanted, they were thrilled.
Another upside: With staff constantly calling around to other branches for book checks, we all got to know one another pretty well. (It was kinda like Twitter.)
----------
The CD-ROM catalog that replaced those Science Press volumes was almost as useless. It took up a lot less room, but it also required staff to train every patron who walked in the door. (Kinda like today, come to think of it...)
That's okay. Although we never give it a second thought today, the computer circulation system/catalog was a revolution, and a most welcome one. And I say that as the staffer who has served the public with that system the longest: since December 1983. (Yeah, yeah, I know...but she went to Headquarters three Directors ago; he's been there for two Directors\; and as for her, she retired last year. So I'm the only one of the original crew left in direct public service.)
Anybody else have memories they want to share?
----------
Ending an Era
Editor's note: Our organization was one of the first public libraries in the area to provide book catalogs of its holdings for library patrons. Since the catalogs were introduced in the late 1960s, Science Press in Steling, Virginia, has been the library's only vendor. The decision to move to a CD-ROM-based catalog brings the long and happy relationship between us and Science Press to a close. Mr. Hall sent a letter to Alfred Baker, vice president of Science Press, thanking the company for its quality service and database work which has "made our conversion to an automated circulation system much easier." Following is the letter he received in response.
- Dear Mr. Hall:
Thank you very much for your kind letter of July 16. I understand completely your reasons for changing over to a CD-ROM based catalog. I'm sure that it is a wise decision.
Both Agnes Wise and I have enjoyed working with the library staff through the years and we have always appreciated the spirit of cooperation we received from everyone.
Again, on behalf of the management and employees of Science Press we thank you for your letter and for being such a faithful customer through the years.
Best wishes to your entire staff and particularly to John McGarty who has worked so closely with us for the past several years and to Mary Vittek before him.
Best wishes,
Al Baker
----------
For those who don't remember those Science Press catalogs, they were phone-book-size hardcover books filled with column after column of dense print. There were three volumes: author, title, and subject, and they were printed every couple of years. Periodic supplements took care of materials that were added to the collection in the in-between years.
These listings -- supposedly conformed with the Master Shelf List at HDQ (which itself was supposedly conformed with each branch's Shelf List) -- reflected almost everything the Library had purchased and not formally discarded. (Paperbacks were not included.)
There were no branch locations, no authority control, and very little provision for inventory control. (Every once in a long while, maybe once a decade, branches did an inventory, comparing their holdings to the Shelf List...I don't recall what provision we made for books that were checked out.) With all due respect to the hard-working clerks in Technical Services, too often the catalog looked like it had been typed by an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters.
Information service was something of a crapshoot, to say the least. If a patron requested a particular title, we would start calling branches, on the phone, for a "book check." Remember, we had no way of knowing if a particular title was checked out. Down the alphabet we would go, until we found a copy ("Good, send it here") or -- much more likely -- ran out of branches.
After a time on the Information Desk, you got to know which branches were more likely to have particular types of books. This branch had a good collection of boating & sailing books. That branch had a lot of car-repair books. If you wanted older fiction, call this other branch...they never threw anything out. Ah, those were the days when experience really counted...you young whippersnappers don't know how good you have it! (Did I mention that we had to walk ten miles to work every day...uphill? In the snow?)
If the book wasn't in anywhere, out came the dreaded "pink slip" (aka Intralibrary Loan Request). The pink slip included call number, author, title, branch, and patron name/phone number. Every day, each branch sent out dozens of these pink slips. Every day, dozens more arrived in delivery. Branch staff took the received pink slips and went to the shelves to search for the books. Those that were found, were sent to the requesting branch. Those that weren't found joined the outgoing flood.
So went the pink slips, round-robin fashion, from branch to branch. They probably took weeks to make the round trip of the system. I don't remember how many times a slip would make the rounds, although I seem to remember some that were marked "2nd try" or "3rd try."
In the fullness of time, if a book wasn't found, we would phone the patron: "Two months ago you requested this book...do you still want it?" If the patron still wanted the book, the request went out by ILL -- to other library systems that were undoubtedly doing the same laborious process.
The downside of this complex and pointless-seeming dance was that patrons very seldom got the book they wanted.
One upside was that patron expectations were not really high. On the rare occasions when someone did get the book they wanted, they were thrilled.
Another upside: With staff constantly calling around to other branches for book checks, we all got to know one another pretty well. (It was kinda like Twitter.)
----------
The CD-ROM catalog that replaced those Science Press volumes was almost as useless. It took up a lot less room, but it also required staff to train every patron who walked in the door. (Kinda like today, come to think of it...)
That's okay. Although we never give it a second thought today, the computer circulation system/catalog was a revolution, and a most welcome one. And I say that as the staffer who has served the public with that system the longest: since December 1983. (Yeah, yeah, I know...but she went to Headquarters three Directors ago; he's been there for two Directors\; and as for her, she retired last year. So I'm the only one of the original crew left in direct public service.)
Anybody else have memories they want to share?
18 August 2009
The Time the Union Guys Came
This was in the early 1980s: it must have been 1981 or 1982. It was a very different world. In those days, the Administration had a different structure and completely different personnel. Ed Hall and Patsy Harris were in charge; both are long gone now. Elmer ruled the Board with an iron fist. There are probably only a dozen or so current staffers who remember those times.
I was but a novice, a newly-hired LA with bright eyes and blissful ignorance of all that was going on.
It was a dark time for the System. Budgets were tight, and tensions between the Administration and the rank-and-file were high. Tempers were very strong on both sides. And eventually, someone unofficially contacted a Union organizer to come speak to the staff.
The meeting was scheduled for one evening after work time, at the Knights of Columbus Center. Ed Hall and Elmer, who were both completely livid, contacted one of Elmer's friends who was high up in the Knights of Columbus and had the Center shut down and locked. So the meeting took place in the parking lot.
I would say that a majority of the staff was there to hear what these Union guys would say. The Administration was absent.
What transpired was an education to this young waif. The Union guy, who looked like a stereotypical stevedore, jumped up on the back of a pickup truck to address the multitudes. He was flanked by a couple of associates who looked as scary as him. I firmly remember that they did not carry torches, although it seemed like they did.
The Union guy proceeded to tell us that if we wanted a Union, he would get us a Union. "We'll do whatever we have to. We'll bash in car windows. We'll bust heads. We'll get you a Union."
The crowd was silent. It was clear that no one had been thinking in terms of bashed windows and busted heads. (Well, maybe one guy was. He left the System not long after.)
Finally, the Union guys distributed cards for everyone to sign & turn in if they were interested in the Union. Those cards listed the Union dues, which were over $100 a month and possibly more...certainly much more than our hardworking, underpaid staff would ever consider. (I guess all that window-bashing and head-busting wasn't cheap.) The dues, even more than the scary talk, effectively killed any interest in the Union. We never heard anything else about it.
Things have changed since then, and it's a completely different world. I'm sure Unions of today are a lot different than they were in those days of yore. But I will always remember that scary night, under the glare of parking lot lights, when the Union guys came to assure us that they would bust heads if they needed to...and probably did the Administration a much bigger favor than Ed and Elmer every realized.
If you remember that time (and you know who you are), leave a comment.
I was but a novice, a newly-hired LA with bright eyes and blissful ignorance of all that was going on.
It was a dark time for the System. Budgets were tight, and tensions between the Administration and the rank-and-file were high. Tempers were very strong on both sides. And eventually, someone unofficially contacted a Union organizer to come speak to the staff.
The meeting was scheduled for one evening after work time, at the Knights of Columbus Center. Ed Hall and Elmer, who were both completely livid, contacted one of Elmer's friends who was high up in the Knights of Columbus and had the Center shut down and locked. So the meeting took place in the parking lot.
I would say that a majority of the staff was there to hear what these Union guys would say. The Administration was absent.
What transpired was an education to this young waif. The Union guy, who looked like a stereotypical stevedore, jumped up on the back of a pickup truck to address the multitudes. He was flanked by a couple of associates who looked as scary as him. I firmly remember that they did not carry torches, although it seemed like they did.
The Union guy proceeded to tell us that if we wanted a Union, he would get us a Union. "We'll do whatever we have to. We'll bash in car windows. We'll bust heads. We'll get you a Union."
The crowd was silent. It was clear that no one had been thinking in terms of bashed windows and busted heads. (Well, maybe one guy was. He left the System not long after.)
Finally, the Union guys distributed cards for everyone to sign & turn in if they were interested in the Union. Those cards listed the Union dues, which were over $100 a month and possibly more...certainly much more than our hardworking, underpaid staff would ever consider. (I guess all that window-bashing and head-busting wasn't cheap.) The dues, even more than the scary talk, effectively killed any interest in the Union. We never heard anything else about it.
Things have changed since then, and it's a completely different world. I'm sure Unions of today are a lot different than they were in those days of yore. But I will always remember that scary night, under the glare of parking lot lights, when the Union guys came to assure us that they would bust heads if they needed to...and probably did the Administration a much bigger favor than Ed and Elmer every realized.
If you remember that time (and you know who you are), leave a comment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
