One-Day Conference

I guess this is a good thing to do on a rainy Friday. The bad news is that I am all wet, because of my lousy rain gear. I hopped on my bike in the light rain, and, a few minutes later, it felt like I was riding in a shower, albeit a cold one. All of my clothes were completely soaked when I arrived and I spent some time using a hand dryer in a washroom in an attempt to dry myself out, but to no avail. It had no effect at all. Yet, slowly, I am drying out. I hope this does not lead to a cold or something worse, like death.

Now, I guess I should pay attention.

Post-Conference

Normally, I would provide a detailed post-conference review in which I poke fun at librarians and what not. Instead, I will offer this, my favourite conversation from the conference:

Fellow Librarian: "I heard that your session was excellent."
ZF: "Really? Who told you that?"
Fellow Librarian: "Your co-presenter."
ZF: "She did? Isn't that an odd thing to say about her own session?"
Fellow Librarian: "She said you are a really good speaker?"
ZF: "Oh, well, in that case."

Things should have slowed down after the conference, but I have to run off and do an instructional session. It never ends.

My Lunch with Justin Trudeau

On the way out, C. and I agreed that Mr. Trudeau had nothing to say to the librarians gathered to hear him speak. He spoke in platitudes and soundbites, praising education and damning global warming, for example. Of course, he spoke in favour of libraries and librarians. I really hate it when plenary speakers and lunch speakers resort to offering us their first library experience or professing their love of books. It's so obvious and boring.

C. noted that his speech was too political, and I agree, in that he sounded exactly like what he is - a politician. What do you expect from politicians but guarded and safe statements designed to offend no one, to congratulate the predictable, and walk the line? Justin has indeed matured into a good politician. But, his speech was a non-event and a let down. In the Q&A that followed, he really lost his way.

Librarians are staunch supporters of intellectual freedom, of access to information, and we oppose censorship. So, when a public librarian asked Mr. Trudeau what the government planned to do about those who would use public computers to access such things as pornography, he gave a dangerous and problematic answer. It seems that he favours some sort of filtering to prevent such access.

The solution is not to filter internet traffic, for that is censorship and it leads to all sorts of thorny issues like who gets to decide what is offensive? Who gets to decide what exceeds society's tolerance? Is a same-sex dating site offensive? I bet many would say yes. Filtering is a slippery slope and that is one of the reasons librarians oppose it.

Internet filtering can have detrimental and unintended effects. For example, access to web sites offering information about breast cancer and AIDS are often blocked by filtering software.

I give Trudeau a failing grade in his answer to this question. So, Mr. Trudeau, if you are reading this (fat chance), please review the Canadian Library Association's Position Statement on Intellectual Freedom. You might also find the Position Statement on Internet Access illuminating. You will find similar statements from various national library associations.

On a more positive note, the invitation of Mr. Trudeau resulted in a phenomenon I had never witnessed before at this conference. Virtually the entire room stayed firmly glued to their chairs, everyone's attention riveted on the speaker. Such is the kind of audience the offspring of one of Canada's most influential and famous public figures can attract. Normally, I feel sorry for the speaker at lunch because there is a constant flow of people exiting, which I always feel is exceedingly rude. I don't buy the answer that they are all rushing off to catch planes and trains, as evidenced by the audience's keen attention today. He managed to hold everyone's attention, but he failed to deliver, although I think his seat in parliament is secure for as long as he wants it.

Conference

I am off to a conference for the remainder of the week and Saturday. That's an indictment of my chosen profession. No self-respecting profession would schedule a conference on a weekend. As far as I can determine, all library conferences bleed into the weekend. We are weak.

In other news, I find it fascinating that some people are thinking about the Year 10,000 Problem. Y2K was a bust. I had expected something disastrous to happen and was severely disappointed when it didn't. That guy who invented the Y2K problem ought to have been fined.

If you can find a good defense against death, it might not save you. It is estimated that somewhere between the year 600,000,000 and 3,500,000,000, the Earth's oceans will evaporate. In the year 5,000,000,000, our sun will become a red giant and all things here will die. Damn. Immortality has its downside. I just hope the end of the world doesn't happen on a Saturday.

Later...

Damn

Still busy, doing stuff. Sometimes I wonder why I agree to speak at conferences...

Sheep and Pigs: The Last Word on IFLA

It's amazing how much I can forget in such a short period of time. For example, I can't remember which session I was in during the IFLA conference when I heard the bleating of a sheep right behind me. I almost jumped. Why was there a sheep at the World Library and Information Congress? I have never seen a sheep librarian (but I have met some sheepish ones). But, sure enough, there was a sheep sitting right behind me. Any sheep farmer sitting in my chair would have said, "Yes, sir, I reckon that's a sheep right behind me."

I considered glancing around to confirm this, but then the bleating stopped. Soon, I heard the distinctive deep guttural grunting of a pig right behind me. Where had the sheep gone and why was there a pig in it's place? I wondered about Animal Farm. Could this be it? Was it Napoleon the pig? Were we about to be overthrown by a collective of disaffected farm animals?

I was so disappointed when I discovered that I had been listening to the bleats and grunts of a sleeping librarian who was clearly suffering from sleep apnea. Imagine being able to sleep during sessions. This would be fantastic, as C. pointed out. What an enviable skill. Think of how much extra sleep one could get, especially during boring sessions. I have to work on this, but I think I need some sort of alarm system in case I start to snore.

OK, so I am moving offices today. The packing starts now.

Dancing Librarians

I chose a slightly blurry photo so as to keep identities secret. It seems like there is some sort of circular bunny hop happening.

I have more, but my laptop, despite a new battery ($157), is not healthy. It won't charge or maintain a charge when powered up, and the battery drains twice as fast as it should, even when plugged in. When shut off, it sort of charges, but the battery light goes out or flickers. Damn computers.

J'ai tombé

Walking along Rue Saint-Jean with C, we watched a man tumble to the ground while intimately entangled with his bicycle. As we approached, he said, quite calmly, "J'ai tombé." I half expected him to add "and I can't get up," but he didn't. Naturally, I was shocked at his grammar. He ought to have said "Je suis tombé." Avoir is the wrong auxiliary with this intransitive verb.

Similar errors occur in English. My father, for example, will utter such grammatical abominations as "I done steaks last night," in reference to his bar-b-queuing prowess, or "I haven't ate anything today." My sister, similarly grammatically-challenged, often says things like "I seen mom yesterday" and "I should have went to the store."

Naturally, I am familiar with Stuff White People Like, and have no problems admitting that I am guilty of point 99. But, as it turns out, the use of the incorrect auxiliary verb can be found in the Québécoise dialect. Evidently, the lower the socioeconomic status, the greater the likelihood that être will be abandoned in the passé composé of certain verbs of motion. I suppose this man's early evening drunkenness might indicate a certain socioeconomic status, but that is no guarantee.

We helped this man, clearly quite inebriated, to his feet with the assistance of another gent, who inquired after his health. The fallen man, now temporarily on his feet and looking rather wobbly, said "an accident is an accident", but I cannot remember if he said that in English or in French. We continued on our way, leaving the man of unknown socioeconomic status to attempt to cycle while plastered to the gills, as my dad would say.

Around the corner on Rue Cartier, a car ran a red light. A split second later, the police cruiser behind him at the traffic lights flipped on his siren and sped round the corner on the wet pavement, straight into a mature maple tree. I didn't realize that a police car impacting a Québec tree could be so loud. The violator got away clean and the police officer called in for assistance. I wanted to take a photo of his wrecked car, but thought better of it. It was quite impressive, really. One wheel was completely off the car and there were bits of tree everywhere. I was happy not to have been walking too close to that zone.

The third accident was mine: Earlier, I spilled red wine all over my Programme de Poche and my name tag. Of the three accidents that day, this was the most grievous. Wasting wine is a sin.

I know, you are still waiting for photos of dancing librarians, but I still cannot use my laptop. You will just have to wait a while longer.

Smart Casual

On my way to the IFLA World Library and Information Congress in Québec, I noticed that the dress code for the Cocktail Reception and Fun Night was listed as "Smart Casual". Oh, the horror, the horror. There are just too many things wrong with that. For one, the word 'smart' reminds me of the superlatives my mother would use when describing the ugly sweaters my aunt liked to give me every year at Christmas. "That's a smart sweater," she would say. I quickly learned that smart equaled ugly. These sweaters languished in my closet for years, unworn.

But, if you are ancient, then 'smart' somehow becomes a good thing and the old people in our society start using the word 'smart' in conjunction with 'outfit'. No boy or man would ever want to be seen in anything resembling an outfit. Informing a man that he is wearing an outfit is emasculating. Add the word 'smart' to 'outfit' and you might as well kill him where he stands. It means that his life is over. He has failed.

Once you are a senior, you are permitted, for some bizarre reason, to wear outfits. You know: velour tracks suits or matching polyester jacket and pants and shoes with those velcro fasteners. I guess if you have to bend over for more than a few seconds to tie your shoes, you risk death at certain ages. My dad also started to wear ill-fitting baseball hats even though he doesn't watch baseball and went his entire life without a baseball hat.

So, I hauled a black vintage suit jacket with me and donned that for the night of fun. I did not look smart, but I think I passed for casual.

Back from Quebec with Damaged Lungs

(The bad news is that my laptop is in need of some repair, and this is hampering my web access. I hope to have this fixed soon).

While in Quebec, I almost made the decision to become a smoker. Why not? I asked myself. Everywhere I went, I was forced to inhale someone else's second-hand smoke: while walking down the street, while sitting on benches, while eating on patios, even in stores because people smoked in doorways and the smoke wafted in like a grey plague. Before I left for Quebec, I was becoming more and more irritated with smoke in Toronto, but Toronto has nothing on the cigarette madness in Quebec city. The whole place is cancerous.

My other observation is that the food was not as good as I had remembered from my previous visits. I can cook steak way better than any of the steaks I had there. Even the filet mignon, ordered from a gluten-free menu at a resto on rue du Petit-Champlain in Quartier Petit Champlain, sucked. I did have a couple of nice glasses of wine and a really great sangria, thankfully.

But, by far the most bizarre sight was a pod of dancing librarians. In my entire career in this female-dominated profession, I had never seen librarians eager to hit the dance floor. But, at this World Congress, filled with delegates from Africa, Iran, Iraq, China, Russia, all parts of Europe, Oceania, and dozens of other nations, this was happening. I have photos to prove it, and if my laptop ever recovers, I might even share some with you. Whether or not I tripped the light fantastic (or fandango) will forever remain a secret.

Je suis à Québec

Hey, there is free wireless here, even during the conference sessions. This could be very dangerous.

The train trip was fine, and went fast, partly because I was travelling with three colleagues, one of whom brought about three pounds of red radishes as a snack. I am not sure about you, but radishes are way down my list of good train snacks. I won't bore you with a list of the pounds of food I carted along with me, but I remember looking at those radishes as I bit into a nice hunk of dark chocolate and felt sorry for her husband, who vocally pondered the necessity of taking red radishes on a train. Poor man.

Off

Well, I am taking some time off work, culminating in a trip to Quebec City for a conference. I will have some time to have a look around the city. I have been there twice before, but it has been ages and I am looking forward to a return visit.

Last week, I had my right eye lasered, picked up my new glasses, had a dental appointment, went back to the optician to check if the prescription was right, went to my optometrist for some in-depth follow-up tests, and then headed back to the optician with a new prescription. I had been "over-prescribed" and am suffering from eyestrain and muscle fatigue. I really hope that the new prescription is correct.

And now, I must go to bed for I am very very tired.

Feeling Poor in Forest Hill

I am younger that this Vice President. I am slimmer and better looking too. My hair is more lustrous. Oh, and I am taller ... and not so pale. He is as pale as Dracula's ass, if you ask me. And that accent made me think of Transylvania, until I was corrected. But, he is a nice guy with a beautiful house in Forest Hill, one of Toronto's wealthiest neighbourhoods, after The Bridal Path (TAFKAP's former 'hood) and Rosedale. I felt impoverished after the visit. The welcoming glass of Prosecco, the open bar, the pool, the caterers, the open bar, the kitchen, the open bar, the meticulously manicured lawn, the .... OK, I will stop listing the things I covet. Did I mention that I am younger and far more handsome?

Of course, I was under-dressed. Who could have anticipated all of those suits? I was in jeans. I did have a jacket, a vintage black suit jacket made in Fredericton, New Brunswick, of all places. Aren't all clothes now made off-shore? Are there any Canadian manufacturers of clothing left? Eventually, I slipped on the jacket, even though the temperature argued against such a move, but doing so made me feel less under-dressed, but not inconspicuous. After all, I had to decline all of the hors d'oeuvres as none seemed to be gluten-free. That must have aroused suspicion and I think the caterers began to wonder. The cold Prosecco was a good antidote to the heat, but then I had to cycle home, through Forest Hill Village, but at least it was all downhill from Forest Hill (and by that I mean the down slope of a hill, but it could equally suggest that I was on the way to an inferior or worse condition).

For the rest of this week, I will be at a conference. In fact, I am at the conference right now, doing all manner of conferency things. It looks to be a good conference, but I will be the judge of that.

Stuff

1) I have a serious case of writer's block. I am supposed to be writing a brief article about a recent event sponsored by an organization to which I belong. I have been sitting on it for too long now, and I think I am stuck.

2) Ahoy, mateys, there still be bilge-sucking, sons-of-biscuit-eating, scurvy dog pirates on the high seas. Aha! Maybe I can write the article in pirate speak?

3) I am going to another conference later in the week (Wednesday to Friday). It conflicts with another conference that I wanted to go to, so that sucks. But, this conference should actually be a good one.

4) Next Monday, I have to see a retinal specialist because I have a "suspect retinal tear." The good news is that a laser can weld it closed, if this is what it proves to be, but it sounds painful. I am also on the hunt for new lunettes.

Another boring post, brought to you by the folks at Writer's Block.

Excerpts from my Journal (with minor improvements in syntax)

Houston, April 27, 2002

"The worst thing about this hotel and conference centre are the bathrooms. Really, it's the urinals. They are like minor toilets affixed to the wall, but they jut out about two feet. So, one must stand well back. This reduces one's privacy. Also, since they are full of water, everyone can hear how long you are urinating and how forcefully. It's really awful."

[snip]

"Walking from the Sheraton to the Galleria is a bit like walking out of an airport: it's not designed for that purpose. There are no sidewalks and the cars scream by on eight lane roads. Above, there is a raised expressway. I passed parking lot after parking lot. No one walks in Houston. [snip] After some tricky negotiations with streets and cars and walk signals that last - and I am serious here - about 5 seconds, I made it to the Galleria."

[snip]

"During the time between a session and the reception, I thought I would look around for some stores outside the Galleria. Aside from the oppressive heat and the fact that there was no easy way for pedestrians to walk away from the mall (in other words, there were no sidewalks), I discovered that there were no stores. This area is utter desolation. [snip] It must have been so odd to see pedestrians, that two taxi drivers asked me if I needed a ride while I was still in the parking lot."

[snip]

"I went into a pub-type place and asked the hostess about the menu. As I started to explain gluten, she suggested that I speak to the more experienced host. Somehow, he turned around what I said and thought that I must have wheat. He commented that I was "very specialized", and then proceeded to recommend a Monte Cristo sandwich that is deep fried in batter. I guess he figured that that ought to be enough wheat for anybody."

Houston, April 28, 2002

"The good news is that the pillow in the hotel room isn't too bad. The bad news is that the clock radio only has one volume level: ear-splitting. I had to smother it with a pillow so that the alarm wouldn't send me through the roof the next morning. The TV has two volume levels: loud and louder. The minimum volume almost blasted me out of the room. Are Texans hard of hearing?"

"Some other observations about Texans. They aren't as obese as I had expected (I had read an article in the Houston Free Press about obesity in Houstonians) and some do wear cowboy hats and boots. The first "native" I saw when I arrived at the airport was wearing a big black hat and cowboy boots. It was a sight. There was also a guy in fatigues with an automatic weapon at the metal detector."

[snip]

"Yesterday, the refreshments were Coke and cookies. I know that not everyone is a health food freak, but pop and cookies is really hitting the bottom of the barrel."

[snip]

"The longer I am here, the more I realize that this area reminds me of the Toronto airport but without the airport. The hotels, the construction, the lack of sidewalks, the lack of trees, the complete desolation is suited to an airport. I wonder why they just don't build an airport and compete the picture."

Conference Review

Welcome to my not funny conference review. I wish I had those two days back. Oh, the things I would do, the places I would go. Instead, I was trapped inside during some lovely weather and forced to endure a really awful conference. Even the free wine at the end did not make up for the dismal conference because it was awful wine, perhaps the worst Gewürztraminer I have ever had. Why didn't I choose the red as usual?

In part, I blame myself for I think I picked the wrong sessions. They sounded good on paper, but the reality was oh so different. I like structure in conference presentations, rather than feeling I have been drawn into a dialogue between the presenters. Some presenters spent part of the time discussing what the next point should be! Weird. Others went on and on, well past the scheduled ending times, clearly because they liked the sound of their own voices.

At the final reception, there were plates of fruit and snacks, which I indulged in, as well as some desserts, which I avoided, of course. I tried the ham wrapped asparagus, but it didn't sit well with me at all. Who wraps ham around asparagus? Worse, they hacked off the tops, leaving ham wrapped around asparagus stalks. It was bizarre and not very tasty at all. I avoided the the piles of cheeses too.

I'll stop now, because I'd hate to say anything too mean.

I have another conference at the end of June, and this one looks much better.

Two Days: Day Two

Day two starts now. We will return to our regularly-scheduled programming soon.

Two Days: Day One

A two-day conference commences now. Sometimes, I think I have too many conferences.

B+

I give yesterday's conference a B+. Last year's was worth about a C-. The keynote address was good, despite the presenter's rather boring delivery. Clearly, he tried to be enthusiastic, but it didn't work. One plenary sessions was truly excellent; the other was a pile of dismal mediocrity and I was utterly unconvinced by her strange metrics of technological progress. That's what happens when economists speak to librarians, I suppose. I choose one dud session, but that happens at all conferences.

In August, I will be attending The International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions World Library and Information Congress in Quebec City. This is a rare opportunity, for the congress normally meets in rather exotic locations, like South Africa, Korea, and Norway, etc. I am looking forward to this very much, even with a very long train trip (we have to keep costs down, so no flights for us). I am already planning what video files to add to my computer for the trip down and back. Oh, and food - since the train food is generally all gluten-based, I will have to pack a ton of food.

Now, to catch up on a day of missed work, but first, a meeting, and then another meeting...

Conference Day

I decided to test out the new Blogger scheduled posting feature, so I wrote this last night and scheduled a post for 8:00 AM Monday, May 5th. I hope it works.

I am at a day-long conference today. I'll write a real post on Tuesday, but it won't be about the conference, or maybe it will be, since I have no more ideas. I am idea-less.