The Time Tunnel
On January 23, 2021 by Speranza
I’ve worked in public libraries both in Canada and the Isle of Man for more than half of my life – so needless to say, I have seen some … things. Working with the public in any capacity is often challenging but at the library, I believe the true stress comes with constantly having to alternate between positive and not so positive situations: helping two likeable, intellectual older women choose fiction titles; angry curmudgeons demanding addresses for subsequent angry letters they intend to write; a shy toddler sliding a drawing of a lovely pink dragon across the desk; and then a clearly agitated person demanding assistance in locating his brother who, he informs me is a headhunter now. And the crumpled magazine picture he shows me of his ‘brother’ holding a spear is clearly more of a, shall we say, traditional headhunter, and not the Human Resources type you may be thinking of.
And of course he doesn’t know his name.
The point is, I learned early on, not to assume anything, never to judge and to be very careful how I phrased any kind of questions.
Part of my job took place in the archives, where an entire room was devoted to microfilm readers: mysterious machines largely unknown to the general public (A mean part of me enjoyed casually asking cocky teenage boys if they needed any help and waiting for the indignant snorts of laughter in response. Moments later, one of them – usually the most charming – would be despatched to the Help desk after they had threaded the microfilm reel upside down – and backwards – and could not pretend to complete their research with a negative mirror-image …)
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One day, I noticed an older gentleman using one of the microfilm readers quite strenuously. This was a manual, hand-turning machine that enabled the user to scroll as slowly or quickly as they wished but this man was really cranking quickly, like he was trying to start the engine of an ancient car.
“Sir, are you finding everything okay or is there anything I can help you with?” I asked politely, hovering at his elbow.
He turned to me wild-eyed, pausing for a moment.
“There’s one thing you can tell me,” he panted, clearly frustrated. “When do I get onto the internet?”
My predominant feeling then and now was curiosity. What had brought him to a microfilm reader for this purpose – and why did he think that the reel he had chosen would be The One that would unlock the internet highway? And most hilarious of all, HOW did he perceive that this would happen – my co-workers and I surmised later that perhaps he thought that if he got to a particular speed, he would suddenly enter another dimension (someone, it may have been myself) suggested that he may have even been thinking it was like that old show The Time Tunnel where they suddenly leapt into another realm …
I often ponder how disappointed he must have been, when eventually presented with an actual internet experience – what, this is it, just typing – but he certainly got that microfilm going at an impressively good speed.
I laughed out loud! Reminds me of an occasion many years ago (early 80s) when I was working in a library in a very small town. We acquired a microfilm reader and set of fiche that comprised the union catalogue for the small libraries in the surrounding region. A gentleman from the town’s newspaper (which was published once a week) came in for a look and later published an article entitled “Library acquires the internet”. Those were the days!
How hilarious Sue.
You have incredible patience.
Great blog post! When I was of a certain young age, much of what the public library in St. Thomas could offer was lost on my mutton headed youth and the vacant minds of the witless gang of deplorables whom I associated with. We had better things to do, like roam the downtown streets, unsuccessfully looking for girls. I believe the only time we came into any proximity of the local library was when some wag glued a piece of steel wool on, let’s say the nether region, of the nude figure of a woman gracing the front of the building. It was only when, at a much later age, and a move to London,and having kids, I began to frequent the local treasure that is Landon in Wortley village.
What a rascal you were back then – but steel wool?! You made me lol!
Librarians are the unsung hero’s of society. They perform an invaluable service, with limitless patience, and get almost zero recognition. There needs to be more statues devoted to librarians.
You are very kind.I’m ready for my close-up anytime a sculptor wants to show up …