This is a true story. (MTV has ruined that sentence forever.) It was sent to me by my friend, Elizabeth, who moved to her mother’s native New Zealand after college and became a Kiwi librarian, which is one of the coolest things you could say at a ten-year reunion.
“So, how have you been?”
“I moved to the other side of the planet, got two masters degrees, and have every bit of information known to man at my fingertips at all times. And you?”
Well, her fellow library scientists became a wee bit upset when a local fashionista offered to stop by their yearly conference to offer advice on dressing less frumpy. They felt that she was just reinforcing an old stereotype, and dammit, they weren’t going to take it anymore! Check out the protest smocks!
I would love for Mraz to do a librarian tribute song, or hell, even a whole librarian medley. I’ve written before about his sexyliterate ways, and if you combine that with my Mraz Does Broadway fantasy, I could totally see him updating “Marian the Librarian”, throwing in something from Tori Amos’ Tales of a Librarian and finishing up with a little “Read, Read, Read a Book”.
Do you doubt the possible coolness of a library medley? Well have a listen to the fourth grade stylings of Mrs. Reed’s class at Northside Elementary doing their version of that last song and then tell me that our Curbside Prophet couldn’t take that already stellar tune and make us all yearn for a good book and an expert in information studies.
Ok, I’m teasing just a bit, but I do love librarians. Many of my happy childhood memories involve books, bean bag chairs arranged in the children’s alcove of the library, and the stamps and stickers and prizes the librarians gave out during the annual summer read-a-thon. Now, as an adult, I spend many volunteer hours a month playing librarian at a local thrift shop, organizing their book shelves by subject and author and setting out New Arrivals! and Recommended Classics. Why would you want to play doctor when you could have the Dewey Decimal System at your mercy?
Others only read of the love,