Digital Divide

This morning on my way up to the Antelope Valley, I'm a visiting librarian in Lancaster until my computers and network are installed. The moving in process just keeps dragging on. Back on topic. This the radio reporter told me that cell phones are replacing landlines in many homes. OK, no big surprise, then he went on to say that the rate of rich people giving up landlines outpace poor people. At first blush this seemed to contradict other reports that have stated that the world's poor are by passing land lines and going straight for cellphones with Internet capability.
As the miles passed I chewed on this facts only to digested them into a reason both could be true.
First, America's poor are not the same as the world's poor. Many countries where the majority of the world's poor live just does not and probably never will have the infrastructure to support wired technology. These people can only hope to connect to the rest of us via wireless technology, so in other words these people will out of necessity jump ahead in the technology cue. America's poor on the other hand tend to live in rural or remote areas where wireless coverage, despite AT&T and Verizon's claims is not ubiquitous. On the other hand, wired coverage is--even the party lines of my rural youth are mostly a thing of the past these days.
Rural-ness is another reason not to give up that ole landline even if a wireless provider is available. Wireless telephone does not mean wireless Internet coverage. My Iphone Internet capability was as non-existent as my savings account this summer in Idabel, OK. And Idabel is technically town. Cable internet through Time Warner or other providers is not any more available than cable TV. Rural America is dotted with satellite dishes for this reason. With this fact, dial up is a sad reality for many of America's ruralites no matter their own personal income.
Something else to consider that keep America's poor tied down is that landlines are often subsidized by us. For those poverty level incomes, we pay a portion of our phone bills to allow them to have very reasonably priced phone service. Phone service but not health care is seen as a basic necessity that should be available to one and all. With adequate documentation, a family can apply for the subsidy annually.
And finally, the rich have few children, and can afford family plans for their progeny. The poor may not have means to provide each and every one of their offspring with cellphones.
One question that did spring to mind as I walked past the line of less than homed individuals in front of the Lancaster Library. What is the rate of cellphones among those poor who are homeless vs those who are poor and aboded? Is there a bigger percentage? Do these people have the wherewithal to get and maintain a cell phone? Do they have people to call?

Musings

I can't believe it has been so long since I last posted. Lots has happened in the past three weeks. I am still trying to adjust to having kittens. Sasha adjusted right on schedule and is now a Graceless Wonder and Nosey Parker. However, Misha is still suffering PTSD and has yet adjusted. I spent all day Sunday trying to tame him. I checked the Internet and the advice says "Small Room Containment". First I lured them into the bathroom. Sasha and Misha stayed there for a while and I handled Misha frequently with rewards of Kraft Singles and baby food. Later I put them in the pet taxi while I cleaned the bathroom, took a shower and prepared the closet.
All went fine and well until about 9:00 when they start getting revved up for the evening's play time. Sasha got restless, Misha was still hissing at times. I kicked Sasha out but that didn't work because he just scratched at the door and meowed. Then I put both of them back in and that didn't work without me because they just scratched the door and meowed. I gave up and let them out so I could go to sleep and not get kicked out of my apartment nor pay damages when I move out.
Misha is a tough nut to crack and I think my options as the clock is running out, is to either ask the Vet for some Kitty Prozac to get him over this phase or take him to the ASPCA and ask them to try to socialize him for a donation. When I take them to the Vet on Saturday, I will ask which is the better option.
On a different note, I have started at the new buldi89g (Sasha's contribution). There are a lot of hurtles to cross before January. Also it is clear that the architect and everyone else involved in the project did not really get the feedback of Librarians. So many things are what people imagine a library should be like but is not actually what we want the library of the 21st Century to be nor what actual users need it to be. So we are trying to remediate these facets or learn to live them.
Two big problems, we don't have enough shelving for adults and have had to work around that. The previous manager did not like to weed at all. So right now we have the old collection (All of IT), all the materials that have been bought over the past two years while it was closed for rebuilding, the Opening Day materials and some reassigns. I am bursting at the seams with just the old collection and have had to spend time weeding out shabby, and unused materials before we try to absorb the new collections (]=kl Sasha again) onto the shelves.
The other big problem is that the art work in the children's area is scary. There is a dead or rubber chicken on the clock shoot that sends lost toys away. There is a guy powering the clock wearing a ram's skull on his head while riding a bicycle with saw blades. There is a Zombie looking sombrero wearing guy that is pulling a cart and a guy that is half fish, half something else with a long bird beak mask on. So now the Powers that Be need to sort it out and see if they can get the artist to adjust the artwork. The concept seems to be from an old Wizard of Oz book plate but MY GOD those things can be scary. I would have nightmares if I were a 7 or 8 year old looking at it. I get creeped out as it is and I am an adult.
More later.

Pobrecitos

My little ones are still shoved into the corner of my closet looking like refugees. They probably feel that their world has dropped out from under them. However, the bowls of Gerber Chicken baby food were licked clean this morning, the litter box was used and their crunch and soft snack bowl had only a few tell-tale bits of crumbs left. At least I know that they are fed. Patience and probably by next week they will be running around the living room.
Last night after I dropped them off at the apartment, gotten scratched and realized that these babies are wild. I gave them a piece of cheese-the only suitable cat like food I had in the house. I didn't think they would care for the applesauce or pasta. Then I headed to Walmart. My free kittens quickly added up to $75, but they have a fleece cube, a scratching pole, litter & litter boxes (multi-cat small spaces), enough food for one more day, a brush, a couple of kitty toys. As I was piling everything in the cart talking to M, I said now you see why I never had kids--there is a reason.

I'm a New Mom

Well, right now I probably seem more like the grim reaper to my new charges but hopefully we will get to know each other soon and they will come out of the closet.
The photo attached to this posting is not a photo I took because right now the little ones are too frightened of me to come out of the corner.
This afternoon one of my regular patrons came into the library asking for a pet shelter that she could take her cats that are now too much for her to handle. She started with 2 and they have now multiplied to more than a dozen. I found her the locations and I started to query her about what kind of cats she had. She mentioned that she had two Siamese looking twins that were still quite small. I decided that if she would bring them to me, I would take them. So this evening before the library closed she brought them to me in a small cage.
Once I got them home I quickly realized that these little one's are actually quite wild. My patron said that she caught them when they came out to eat, so with their behavior and her statement, I deduced that they haven't been tamed, yet. Poor babies.
They are adorable. One is more shy than the the other. The dominate one is fiesty and I have yet to get a look at him/her. I think probably a her since the smaller, more timid one seems to be a boy. I have to think of names for them and I am considering Misha and Sasha for them no matter the gender. Misha is Russian for little bear and I think I will probably call the fiesty one Misha. Sasha although can be a girl's name also is the Russian diminutive for Alexander so can be for a boy, too.
My family has had a Misha before--he was a beautiful long hair Russian Blue that took over the parenting of the twin Siamese that my dad brought my mom for Valentines one year. The Siamese were named Lucy (girl) and Nikki (boy). My dad named them after my nicknames. This is how I knew that he really missed me after I went away for college. Mind you it caused some confusion when I heard "Lucy come eat" when I was home only to go down to the kitchen and find a bowl of cat food on the cabinet.
Our first Siamese when I was growing up was TK. He was Velvet's first litter when we moved to town and she was still living with us. Siamese are white when they are born. I remember expressing my fascination with the white kitten but my mother told me that it would turn out to be just a common yellow cat. Much to our amazement, he developed points and turned into a Siamese. TK was a cool cat that we loved until the neighbor shot him.
Velvet was still cavorting with her Siamese beau after she moved herself to the youth shelter because out of a later litter we got Tisha which my mother adored. Tisha was typical high maintenance Siamese and without a doubt my mom's cat. Tisha produced my long hair lilac point Tasha that was sweetness. One day my brother's friend was visiting my mom. Tasha was sitting on top of the TV, when she finally moved after about an hour, Keeva gasps, "She's real." Tasha's role in life was to look beautiful.
So I am looking forward to getting to know my little ones.

Sex Goddesses, Exploding Toilets & Bad Ju-Ju

I am never short a story and this week is no exception. Here are a few stories that I will file away for future purposes.
1) During the book sale this weekend, I learned something about Santa Clarita's early days. This all started when someone said "Did you see that the Sex High Priestess is here?" What? "Oh, yes, in the 70's her husband spent a few years behind bars for pandering." Really! "Yes, the defense claimed that it wasn't pandering but a religious rite for their church--the judge didn't buy it and he spent some time." They pointed her out and she is a regular customer that looks a bit like a grandmother. Wow, you just never know, do you? I also found out in the good ole days when Mr. Newhall ran the newspaper, there were some pretty wild editorials and the DUI list was published every Monday.
2) I went to a going away party on Saturday after the book sale for one of the Assistants that got a job in Montana as a library manager. Her husband was driving back from Montana to California. He stopped in at a McDonald's, went to the toilet stall and sat down. He said he noticed that the commode seemed to drop a few inches and then suddenly with his pants down around his ankles water came forcefully gushing out. He was trying to get the door open but it opened in rather than out so he had a hard time. By the time he got himself decent enough to get out, he was drenched. The management decided to comp his meal because his bills were too wet and they didn't want to accept them. So it seems that spilling hot coffee on yourself earn you millions at McDonalds but having to narrowly escape drowning yourself with your pants down around your ankles gets you a 5 buck meal.
3) Yesterday I asked a gentleman to stop holding his crucifix up in the library. He asked "Is it illegal?" Before I could craft the answer "No, but proselytizing in the library is not allowed." He slipped the 7 inch cross into the Star of David necklace he was wearing with the statement "It is part of my outfit." The manager and I both said "That's fine as long as you are wearing it." The man sat back down to his computer. The manager and I looked at each other and agreed that he was a new one and hadn't been in either of our libraries before. A little later he asked to speak with the manager and the end result was that he was trying to cleanse all the bad ju-ju that people were bringing into the library. Thank you, I guess.
And finally 4) I was scheduled to do a walk through of my new library with my regional administrators. Y calls them the Three Fates. They are all great and I have learned a lot from each and everyone. One is very particular and exact. She always has well coordinated suits and has the right thing to say and do. Yesterday she was wearing a white jacket. After the walk through we went to lunch. I had ravioli with marinara sauce. Do you see where this is going? As she was sitting next to me, she was in direct line of spray when a ravioli slipped off my fork and back into the pool of bright red sauce. Mortification ruled my day. She took it very well, whipped out a Shout spot cleaner and proceeded to dab at the multitude of blood like spots. The only thing that could make me feel even marginally better was that my jacket and white shirt were also spotted although not as deeply. Oh, I am a total mess. I always find a way to sabotage myself in the worst way.

Sometimes My Job is Fun

I have a regular patron that is an actor. I didn't quite realize that he was one. But he came in one day with a different facial hair so I asked him what was up. He explained that he was working on a Mentalist episode. Cool. I won't disclose his real name, although it is a famous one. He can't use his given name because SAG nixed it. He rather uses his grandfather's. He said I could check out some of his stuff out on You Tube, so here is one of the links. I love the dread's.

OMG

Yesterday morning I woke up at 6:00 so that I could leave by 7:00 to get to Downey by 8:30. At 6:55 I sat down to my bowl of cereal. I heard a buzzing down in the wall. What in the world? I walked into my mini hallway. I noticed that my vanity lights were flickering. What? I turned the lights off. I opened the breaker box and saw SPARKS. Heart rate instantly jumped up. I quickly flipped half the switches. The buzzing stopped. Relief. Then I started hunting around for my the Apartment Office number. I was in such a state that I wasn't making much sense to myself. Suddenly I had to pee, so I thought I might be able to think better if my bladder wasn't full. I accidentally flipped the bathroom room switch which instantly began to flicker and I heard the buzzing in the wall again. I no longer had to pee. OMG! I went back to the breaker box which was sparking once again, so I threw the other half of the switches.
I finally located the office number and called. The woman that answered didn't seem as alarmed as I was. She asked if there was smoke. When I said no, she said she would see IF someone could come check it out after hours. I let her know that my freezer was defrosting at the moment and I would lose all my stuff. I swear I heard her let out a sigh when she said she would work on it.
Completely freaked out, I loaded up jewelry, computer and some clothes. My parents had an electrical fire where they lost a bunch of stuff. I would have loaded up more but I coxed myself out of being WORST CASE SCENARIO GIRL and let it go with what I had.
At about 7:30, I was calm enough to get in the car. I was deciding if I really wanted to go for training or not. Maybe I needed to be near the apartment. But then I decided that I would do no one any good being near the apartment. If it burned it burned. The training had to be done and I might as well be at a long Power Point reading day with a frazzled mind than actually trying to do work. I got in the car about my coffee to make my way to Downey about 50 miles away. I knew I would be late and since it took me 10 minutes to make it to the first stop light from my apartment which is less than a quarter of a mile, I knew that I was really not going to make it on time.
At 8:00 I called the library and asked the Assistant to send Bob an email to let him know I was going to be late. I was at Freeway cruising speed which was about 30 miles an hour. Then, I made a mistake. Just past downtown there is a jumble of freeways. The 5 cuts down to two lanes from five but it isn't the right two or the left two, it is somewhere in between. I thought I was in the far lane to stay on the 5 so I just followed the road, but I wasn't and ended up on the 10. Once I got off I was in Vernon--where ever the Hell that is. I couldn't find my way back to the freeway. Eventually I ran across a surface street that I knew ran near where I wanted to be, got out my handy Thomas Guide and found myself. About 30 minutes later I ended up at LHQ (Library Head Quarters)--a full hour late.
On the way in I called the Apartment Office and spoke with Marvin the head Groundskeeper. I explained the problem. He said that sometimes breakers are thrown when there is too many things connected. Exasperated, I explained that that was the problem the breaker didn't throw--it was sparking. Oh, he said, let me go check it out. Yes, I responded, please do.
Later I called and yes, the other guy saw the sparks too. Somehow a wire wasn't grounded and was shorting out. Fun. He fixed it, turned my lights back on and I came home to a safe apartment, feeling a bit sheepish as I got my stuff out of my car.