The big doing this past weekend was the opening of our newly-renovated downtown library. I actually don’t know if it’s quite accurate to call it a "renovation" – the left some of the exterior standing, but the interior is completely and totally gutted and rebuilt into something entirely new.

And it’s very nice.

Oh, I love me an old library, made of stone and cool marble floors. What we used to call the "graduate library" at UT was that sort of place, as opposed to the "undergraduate library" which was all 60’s curves and carpet. I always preferred the graduate library, just because I felt more studious over there. 

Of course, such is not the library of the present – it’s a different animal, valued for its computer terminals as much as its books, but that really can’t be helped. It’s interesting to consider this new place, how much space is allocated to what and how the whole thing is arranged – it almost has the feel of a not-quite-upscale galleria-type shopping center. Since the various sections are all clearly separated and one need not go through one to get to another, simply heading for the store (er…room) that has the kind of books you need, then heading back to the central checkout desk through the broad, expansive, largely empty hall, there seems to be less a sense of a community establishment, more of a demand that you claim your identity (Young Adult, Child, Adult, Business, Arts..) and stick to it without wandering.

So, I like it – because it’s bigger and more of the books are on the shelves, and the children’s section is beautiful. But I feel more like a consumer when I’m there now, and less of a …student? I don’t know.

The children’s section is amazing. All the books, of course, plus a fascinating aquarium, several small play areas, listening stations, and one whole separate, glassed-in large play area that’s reminiscent of something you’d find in a children’s museum.

Obviously, this is a place with long winters, with a wise library knowing that parents are desperate for places for little ones to be able to run and play when it’s 10 degrees outside. Thanks, library!

Katie came back from her tour of the Young Adult section and announced, "There’s like three shelves of books up there." I went and saw that she was wrong. There were four. And they were long shelves. Oh, and there was actually another long shelf along a whole other wall. The rest of the rather large section was taken up with computers, couches, faux-type diner booths and a place in the back where some sort of DDR, but with guitars, was set up. We could weep about youth and books, but truth be told, the actual "books" part of the old YA section wasn’t that large, and it makes sense if you think about it. The children’s section contains heaps of books that young teens are still reading, and by the time kids hit 16 or so, the remaining readers among them are reading adult books – fantasy, sci-fi, mysteries, general fiction. So I’m not bothered by a YA section in a library having plenty of books, but also having plenty of space for just gathering. Again…10 degrees outside. Even teens get tired of the mall.

I’ll go later this week and take a look at the cafe, and see if the place is amenable for working in at times. But all in all, I definitely think it’s money well spent.

(I probably should also mention that the geneology section of this library is apparently one of the finest in the country and is actually a destination for family and professional researchers – and that’s one of the several good reasons to putting money into a renovation into this particular library. One little piece in this town’s endless quest to actually make something of its downtown, once again…)

Yesterday was the circus. The Shrine circus, which we hadn’t attended in probably three years. It was odd, just as I’d remembered it being last time. I mean, it was fine, but something in which overheated music and narration seemed designed to distract you from the not-very-exciting things going on, like the "RAGE IN THE CAGE" tiger-taming act in which the faux Siegfried/Roy, complete with bare chest and bleached mop, bounces around making obviously bored tigers move from pedestal to pedestal.

The one thing that kind of surprised me was that there was a bear act. I’ve been to several circuses during my life, but I honestly don’t ever remember seeing a bear act before – I was under the impression that animal-rights folks had made them obsolete. Michael had seen many a dancing bear in his time – in Turkey.  It was actually pretty surreal. These three brown bears in little red vests spent their time walking around on their hind legs (when they weren’t walking on their forelegs), riding bicycles and motorcycles, dancing, and when each was done with its particular act, returning to a chair where it would sit up like a person. I suppose all animal acts have a degree of bizarre-otherness about them, as we watch animals do human-type things, but this was different, even from watching the elephants take a bow or the horses trot in their tight circles. All of those things are still in the realm of naturalness, I think, but this was discomfiting because it was unnatural, trying to make the bear into Something It Isn’t. I suppose you could say if you can shoot a bear and eat it, what’s wrong with teaching it to ride a bike? Right? Or wrong?

All of these questions clearly confounded Michael, who spent – I am not kidding – the entire first of act of the circus in this position:

I swear to you, he didn’t move. He didn’t utter a word. He just sat, stunned, staring.  We tried to figure out how we could duplicate the experience at church. Maybe we’re too quick to complain when we gripe that "Mass was like a circus today?"