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Have you ever been walking down the street, and noticed that building that nobody ever goes into? Of course you haven't, because you don't go in there either. Well folks, that building is the library.
Now my grandfather used to call it the li-BERRY. I thought this was rather odd, considering that my grandfather had a Harvard Law degree. Then again, my grandfather was born and raised in Brooklyn. From what I have been told, Harvard is quite an institution. I've learned that they even have their own library! This Harvard must be some fancy place, but then again I wouldn't be too sure because I've never seen their ads on the TV. On the other hand, the Apex Technical School doesn't fool around. When you graduate from there not only have you learned a valuable skill, but you get to keep the tools for FREE! Now that's my idea of a school. I bet this Harvard place doesn't allow any shenanigans of that sort, and I'm sure their graduates couldn't fix a refrigerator to save their one day past the expiration date milk even if it was the last milk on Earth.
But Franklin, there must be some people that go to libraries, what do they do there?
Most people (few as they are) spend their time in the library looking up dirty words in the giant unabridged dictionary that has to be moved around by a team of Egyptians on loan from the Pharaoh. Erich Von Daniken has gone on record to say that beings from another world moved the unabriged dictionary long before the advent of modern civilization, and for reasons only known to him, they haven't bothered to drop by since. Other people know not to ponder how the big dictionary got there but are just as happy to have their photos taken next to it and thumb through copies of Maurice Sendak's In the Night Kitchen, skipping to the pages where some right minded person drew shorts on that naked kid. I don't remember that naked kid doing any refrigerator repair in that kitchen. He obviously wasn't a graduate of the Apex Technical School, since they get to keep their clothes as well as their tools.
Sometimes, people pass the time by taking a trip down memory lane via the magic of microfilm, or it's evil cousin, microfiche. Actually, microfiche isn't really evil, it's just misunderstood. You'd be pretty steamed too if you had to play second fiddle to your first cousin microfilm who has been made internationally famous in spy movies, spirited around in hollow nickels, and stored in only the finest of well maintained refrigerators. The most exciting thing microfiche can look forward to is if some lost soul happens to stumble in and maybe spends up to twenty minutes reading a Newsweek from 1967 about hippies, LSD, and what life will be like living on Mars in 1980.
So in conclusion, Librarians work at the liberry. Librarians are not to be referred to as li-berrians, nor should they be called Liberians or Libertarians. A librarian may be a Libra, but not all Libras are Liberators. Libations are very rarely had at the lubary, unless it's the cup of ice limeade kept at the labrador's desk. Collecting library cards is no longer lucrative, unless you have that very rare Melvil Dewey Rookie in NM-MT condition that he requested be pulled from the market after he found out the company producing them was serving warm limeade at their bi-weekly singles mixers that was obviously not kept in a fully functioning fridge.
About today's substitute teacher:
Unlike his grampa, Franklin Corregidor was born and raised in New Jersey, which is known for its abundance of highbrow culture, and its citizens are praised on their mastery of the English language and refrigerator upkeep on a regular basis. He has spent countless hours in various libraries across Northern New Jersey and never spent any time milling about in a field at three in the morning in the middle of winter when it was almost zero degrees out wearing nothing but torn jeans, a t-shirt and a motorcycle jacket while drinking beers around a dwindling fire with a bunch of other underaged males as a boombox sitting on a pile of empty aluminum cans from years gone bye was playing heavy metal music. He wouldn't know anything about those activities, as he was in a library at the time, planning his big Martian land grab.
FranklinCorregidor@hotmail.com
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