A Shout-Out to the Public Libraries

The people in my group brought up the unattractive co-ed's bisexuality. I tried to show compassion: "That poor thing needs as many lines in the water as possible."

That's kinda how I feel about reading these days. Our minds are uglier than that co-ed's unshaven legs. We need lots of lines in the mental waters.

Decades ago, I listened to a lecture about reading. The speaker said reading is the hardest thing we can do, then started suggesting ways to do it well: "First, fix your environment."

I stopped listening.

First, reading isn't the hardest thing to do, just ask that co-ed who no doubt found getting laid a lot harder.

Second, I didn't need to fix my environment to read any more than a middle school boy needs to fix his environment to get an erection. I was the Sam-I-Am of reading. I read in a box, with a fox, in a house, and with a mouse.

That all changed. Maybe it was my wicked bout with COVID that put my brain in a fog thicker than Jack the Ripper's East London. Maybe I'm just getting older.

Or maybe it's the way modern life has handcuffed me to screens.

I'm pretty sure it's the latter. Everyone appears to be having the same problem.

So now I might agree with that teacher. Maybe reading is the hardest thing we can do, and when setting out to do it, we need to "fix" our environment and be "intentional" about it: telephone tossed into the toilet, quiet room, maybe even binaural reading beats.

I gave up on public libraries a long time ago when they became hubs for the homeless who wanted free Internet access and a place to urinate next to the toilet, but I had to go to my local library a few years ago to track down a grocery cart.

I walked in and marveled: It was a palace for reading.

Sound-proof booths, sound-resistant cubicles, an entire room dedicated to reading physical books: "No electronic devices allowed" stamped at the entrance.

I've since started visiting public libraries on my travels. I'm seeing this development repeatedly.

So there's hope. At least one set of small institutions has shown up like that St. Bernard with a shot of whiskey tied around his neck to dig out snow-buried travelers. Our brains are buried in digital. Take a shot of whiskey at your public library. It'll clear your head.