Ask A Librarian: Answers You Won't Get From Google: Part 2
Here is the second installment of the "Ask a Librarian" series, in which Corvallis Middle School students and staff ask a librarian to answer their questions, big and small. We start with a question from my sister, Pam, who lives in Greeley, Colorado.
Pam D. asks, "Since you have been a librarian for awhile now, have you catalogued and shelved your books at home? And have you organized any of your other belongings like you would books?"
As one might imagine, I have pretty much always shelved my books at home, since books like being on shelves. Well, on shelves and end tables. Come to think of it, on kitchen tables, counter tops, and even on the floor beside my desk. Shelving my books is like herding cats or getting a bunch of fifth graders to do the same thing at the same time. My books are, apparently, free range books.
On the other hand, Toni shelves her books according to a complicated system that, near as I can tell, relies on shape, size, and color. She thinks it silly to think that books must go on a shelf in a conventional library way; her system is a pleasing blend of art and architecture that has the added benefit of finding books she has stolen from me over the years.
(Toni says "borrowed," but I'm still waiting for her to return books she "borrowed" close to 30 years ago. But I digress.)
I do not catalog my books, although many people do. In fact, there's an app for that: LibraryThing, which lets users catalog their books online, using a barcode scanner on their phone (of course there is an app for that, too). According to LibraryThing's website, nearly 2.4 million people use it, or have at least created accounts. I created an account once, but since I don't check out my books to anyone except myself and Toni (who doesn't feel obligated to return the book if she thinks she has found a better home for it), I haven't used it much. But if I ever feel the need to get in touch with all those book nerds, the site is waiting there for me.
Abby V. asks, "What is the purpose of people?"
Abby, that question has stumped philosophers since the dawn of philosophy itself. Judging from current events, I believe we finally have an answer: the purpose of people is to buy as much toilet paper as possible. Paper towels and Kleenex, too.
Soren wonders, "What is the meaning of life?"
There are many answers to the big question of not just life, but of life, the universe, and everything. However, the best answer comes from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, in which the computer Deep Thought takes 7.5 million years to come up with the answer.
The answer is 42.
For anyone who wants more detail, and a really funny series, check out the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series, available in the middle school library.
Jasmine W. wonders, "Why do humans laugh at each other's pain?"
The short answer is because America's Funniest Home Videos
The sad fact is that we laugh at the pain of others because such pain gives us pleasure, at least sometimes. Many languages have a name for this. In German, its schadenfreude, which I already knew.
What I didn't know until I recently (as in five minutes before typing this) read an article in The Guardian is that several languages have a word for taking pleasure in the misfortunes of others. Whatever we call it, it's nothing to brag about.
On the other hand, schadenfreude has clear social functions, including social bonding when, for instance, a football team we hate loses a game. It's just part of the messy business of being human.
P.S. Ms. Purcell says you need to do your English homework.
Eliana asked, in a three-part question, "How much were all of the books all together? were they worth money? what year did you get all the books?"
I presume that the first question is, what is the total cost of the books in the library? I will estimate, because that is a math skill that young people will learn so that they will know how to estimate when they are as old and wise as I am. So, figure 8,000 books at an average cost of $12.99, allowing for inflation, depreciation, amortization, and about a half dozen other accounting terms that even I don't understand, we come up with $103,920.
Round up that total to $104,000, which is a whole bunch of money.
Finally, you ask, In what year did I get all they books? If you read that question closely, you'll see that it implies that I 1) purchased all the books in the library, and 2) that all of them were purchased in the same year. That probably seems impossible, but I am a librarian with an English degree, so more is possible than you think. To answer your question: 1983.
Miley B. also had a question about library books: How many books are in the library?
The short answer is, again estimating, 8,000. But at any given moment, a precise count is impossible to determine. For one thing, many library books are not in the library because students checked them out. Obviously. Those books sometimes stay away for months at a time, trapped in the bottom of a locker or, worse, the bottom of a sixth grader's backpack, with bits of last month's ham sandwich sprouting mold that may some day be as fabulous as penicillin or as deadly as a pandemic-causing virus.
Indeed, there are rumors, in the corners of the Dark Web, that the Spanish Influenza was created when a moldy half sandwich from a corner cafe was trapped in a library book that a kid swore he had turned in months ago.
But I digress. To answer your question with a librarian's technical term: There are a lot of books in the library.
Glenn has also bee doing some counting: "How many pieces are on a Lego Mark 1 tank (I know the answer).
Luckily, Glenn has already done the counting, so I don't have to. Thanks, Glenn. Oh, and if anyone else wants to know, ask Glenn.
Pam D. asks, "Since you have been a librarian for awhile now, have you catalogued and shelved your books at home? And have you organized any of your other belongings like you would books?"
As one might imagine, I have pretty much always shelved my books at home, since books like being on shelves. Well, on shelves and end tables. Come to think of it, on kitchen tables, counter tops, and even on the floor beside my desk. Shelving my books is like herding cats or getting a bunch of fifth graders to do the same thing at the same time. My books are, apparently, free range books.
On the other hand, Toni shelves her books according to a complicated system that, near as I can tell, relies on shape, size, and color. She thinks it silly to think that books must go on a shelf in a conventional library way; her system is a pleasing blend of art and architecture that has the added benefit of finding books she has stolen from me over the years.
(Toni says "borrowed," but I'm still waiting for her to return books she "borrowed" close to 30 years ago. But I digress.)
I do not catalog my books, although many people do. In fact, there's an app for that: LibraryThing, which lets users catalog their books online, using a barcode scanner on their phone (of course there is an app for that, too). According to LibraryThing's website, nearly 2.4 million people use it, or have at least created accounts. I created an account once, but since I don't check out my books to anyone except myself and Toni (who doesn't feel obligated to return the book if she thinks she has found a better home for it), I haven't used it much. But if I ever feel the need to get in touch with all those book nerds, the site is waiting there for me.
Abby V. asks, "What is the purpose of people?"
Abby, that question has stumped philosophers since the dawn of philosophy itself. Judging from current events, I believe we finally have an answer: the purpose of people is to buy as much toilet paper as possible. Paper towels and Kleenex, too.
Soren wonders, "What is the meaning of life?"
There are many answers to the big question of not just life, but of life, the universe, and everything. However, the best answer comes from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, in which the computer Deep Thought takes 7.5 million years to come up with the answer.
The answer is 42.
For anyone who wants more detail, and a really funny series, check out the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series, available in the middle school library.
Jasmine W. wonders, "Why do humans laugh at each other's pain?"
The short answer is because America's Funniest Home Videos
The sad fact is that we laugh at the pain of others because such pain gives us pleasure, at least sometimes. Many languages have a name for this. In German, its schadenfreude, which I already knew.
What I didn't know until I recently (as in five minutes before typing this) read an article in The Guardian is that several languages have a word for taking pleasure in the misfortunes of others. Whatever we call it, it's nothing to brag about.
On the other hand, schadenfreude has clear social functions, including social bonding when, for instance, a football team we hate loses a game. It's just part of the messy business of being human.
P.S. Ms. Purcell says you need to do your English homework.
Eliana asked, in a three-part question, "How much were all of the books all together? were they worth money? what year did you get all the books?"
I presume that the first question is, what is the total cost of the books in the library? I will estimate, because that is a math skill that young people will learn so that they will know how to estimate when they are as old and wise as I am. So, figure 8,000 books at an average cost of $12.99, allowing for inflation, depreciation, amortization, and about a half dozen other accounting terms that even I don't understand, we come up with $103,920.
Round up that total to $104,000, which is a whole bunch of money.
Finally, you ask, In what year did I get all they books? If you read that question closely, you'll see that it implies that I 1) purchased all the books in the library, and 2) that all of them were purchased in the same year. That probably seems impossible, but I am a librarian with an English degree, so more is possible than you think. To answer your question: 1983.
Miley B. also had a question about library books: How many books are in the library?
The short answer is, again estimating, 8,000. But at any given moment, a precise count is impossible to determine. For one thing, many library books are not in the library because students checked them out. Obviously. Those books sometimes stay away for months at a time, trapped in the bottom of a locker or, worse, the bottom of a sixth grader's backpack, with bits of last month's ham sandwich sprouting mold that may some day be as fabulous as penicillin or as deadly as a pandemic-causing virus.
Indeed, there are rumors, in the corners of the Dark Web, that the Spanish Influenza was created when a moldy half sandwich from a corner cafe was trapped in a library book that a kid swore he had turned in months ago.
But I digress. To answer your question with a librarian's technical term: There are a lot of books in the library.
Glenn has also bee doing some counting: "How many pieces are on a Lego Mark 1 tank (I know the answer).
Luckily, Glenn has already done the counting, so I don't have to. Thanks, Glenn. Oh, and if anyone else wants to know, ask Glenn.
Replying to Soren's comment:
ReplyDeletego to this link to find out more as to why it is the answer to life: https://rb.gy/qydko9