Really, do not vandalize cemeteries

My third Great-Grandfather, Joseph Plunkett served in the army with the Massachusetts Volunteers during The Civil War. His arm was either injured or blown off during the Battle of Petersburg and he was taken prisoner. He was freed during a prisoner exchange a couple of months later. I’m not certain what POW camp he was detained in, but it would not have been an easy place to be captive.

My Great-Uncle Eddie was killed in action on March 26th, 1945 while the U.S. Army crossed the Rhine River. He was 20 years old and his death had a profound impact on my family, especially that of my Grandfather who was 20 years older and looked after him almost like a son. He is buried in the St. Avold Cemetery in France because my Grandfather wanted him buried there with his buddies. I have not been there but I have photographs of the site that were taken by relatives who went to pay their respects to their Brother or their Uncle.

As you know I have a deep respect for cemeteries and the way we honor and remember our dead. I’ve also gained respect for how we honor our war dead. So when I saw that the Camp Chase cemetery, about a mile from my house, was vandalized last night, it disappointed me.

Camp Chase was a military camp in Columbus, during The Civil War it became a prisoner of war facility. Over 2,000 confederate soldiers lost their lives in the dirty, unsafe and medically primitive facility. Call it the Andersonville of the north.

I honor the gravesites of the war dead of the average soldier. Men who were often threatened by evil governments with death of their own families to enlist for a terrible cause. Win or lose, war is shit. Luckily my family was on the winning side of the wars. Yet, I do not hate Germans for killing my Great-Uncle as I suspect a terrified average 20 year old was probably the one who pulled the trigger in retreat.

The Camp Chase site is rather humble, not very well kept and in a non-vibrant part of Columbus. There is a stone that has an engraving of why the site is there and on top of an arch was a statue of a generic confederate soldier, with the inscription “Americans” underneath. That statue was taken down, after being up there for over 100 years, by vandals last night. I support that the meaning of the camp and it’s origins should be updated for our times. I do not agree that cemetery vandalism and desecration is the way to accomplish this.

In West Columbus, and other sad places

The original Lunatic Asylum of Ohio was constructed in Columbus in 1835 on Columbus’ near east side. It burned down in 1868 and the rebuild on the west side of the city was completed in 1877. It was a tremendous building, said to be the largest structure under one roof until the Pentagon was built. If you walked around it, the distance was over a mile.

In the late 1980’s the building was abandoned and finally demolished in the 1990’s. Some of the architectural details, such as railings and windows, were salvaged and installed in the Hilltop Library - where I worked for a few years.

It was a hospital where the criminally insane were sent, where the indigent ended up, and where some poor families dropped off their children and relatives.

There are a couple of cemeteries on the site, They are hidden on the west side of Columbus. The one I finally went to is fairly easy to find. It is north of the BMV, just east of a center where violent juveniles are housed and next to the Columbus Police Department’s Heliport.



It’s a very peaceful, green space but looking at the stones is a very sad experience.



Who were these people? How many of them died alone? How many of them died not knowing they had family out there, or no family left?



How many were truly mentally ill and not given the help they deserved. How many were simply odd or misunderstood?

How many were autistic?



Here is a stone that simply labels a mass grave of human beings, Specimens. This is not the only one.



Here are row after row of tiny stones that reduced people’s names to numbers.



There were so many of these types of institutions all over the country, including one a couple of miles from where I grew up. Most of them had cemeteries just like this one. The numbers of people who were not treated like human beings, not given any assistance or dignity had to be staggering. Yet here we are today, facing an uncountable number of people with autism and other disabilities and we are cutting services instead of creating them. As a society we are not prepared for this storm. I’m not sure if this culture wants to take care of the most vulnerable.



Hope you all had a woke Autism Awareness Month. May is ALS, Arthritis, Cystic Fibrosis, Huntington’s Disease, Lupus, Mental Health, Stroke, Vision and more awareness month. That’s a lot to be aware of. Will no one will be aware of autism for another year?

When the lines out the door are more than for donuts

A new business opened on the west side this week. Amy's Donuts is a chain based out of Colorado and California. They make dozens of types of donuts. From traditional to over the top toppings such as Lucky Charms cereal. They had a soft opening last week. To say business is booming would be an understatement.



The lines have been out the door all week. They had to close one day because the donut locusts took them all. Another day they had to shut down for training and presumably to make more donuts. This overwhelming support is not about donuts. This is about a side of town that is incredibly underserved and is willing to give support to a business that establishes itself on the west side first, instead of Clintonville, Campus, Gahanna, Hilliard etc.. The residents of this area have money to spend, and want to do it here, where they live. We've been ignored for far too long.



As for the donuts, yes, they're darn good.

A Coronation is Not an Election

On Tuesday, those who vote in Columbus will be voting in primaries for Mayor and City Council. I will not be voting. Mainly because in order to vote in an Ohio primary, you have to register for the party whose primary you will be voting in. My views belong to neither of these parties.

For most of my voting life though, I have been a registered democrat. No more. They abandoned any form of progressive ideas in favor of banking, insurance company and military support. Great for them when they’re able to swim in donor cash and give them influence. Bad for me who does not have the financial means to purchase my own political candidate. That’s the way it seems now though and I do not foresee a time when that will change. And I’m fed up with voting for the lesser or two evils, even with the supreme court set to change dramatically in the next decade.

Locally, there are three democrats running in the mayoral primary and one republican. All male.

Terry Boyd, the republican, is being sent out by the local GOP as the under funded sacrifice as Columbus’ current political climate will have a democrat as Mayor. This is not a prediction, but as nearly solid fact as you get today, barring major scandal - and I mean major.

Zach Scott is the county sheriff. His plan is essentially hope for the best and continue the status quo, which is a great climate for developers to line their pockets. Not so good for the neglected parts of the city, which includes my area of Briggsdale in West Columbus.

James Ragland’s enthusiasm masks his political inexperience. I have not been impressed with his arrogance on social media and local message boards. He comes off to me as a theocrat, even though he’s backed away from his stance against gay marriage. He may challenge Scott for second in the primary and you may not see the last of him in local politics.

Andrew Ginther is the party endorsed candidate. Mayor Coleman has all but given him the job, especially since Ginther has become Coleman’s shadow. Ginther has developer support on both sides of the political line, a school board scandal in his open closet (as does Boyd) that most do not give a crap about and will be the next Mayor of Columbus. I’m still trying to figure out what exactly the man has done for Columbus besides ride Coleman’s coattails.

Regardless of who the next Mayor is, life in Columbus will continue as we know it. The boners of the developers will point to what they want the Mayor and city council to do next. And they will abide, oh yes they will. Little will be done for the neglected parts of Columbus other than lip service and some asphalt in the occasional pothole. The casino the west side did not want is not bringing in the expected revenue. Sure, we have some interesting ethnic food available but Four String Brewery joining Dirty Franks West and Cream and Sugar is far from enough to make West Columbus the vibrant community other areas of the city that have benefited from tax reduced development and gentrification have become. After living here for twelve years I’m tired of waiting. My patience is done, and my vote is for none of the above.

Edit: I was mistaken about having to declare allegiance to a particular party to vote in this primary. It was an open primary. Also, Ginther won handily, with Scott coming in a very close second to Boyd. So two democrats are going to be running for mayor this year.

Kicking basements

At this point in the home buying process, we're only looking at open houses. It's going to be months before we're serious in making a purchase. We still have to get this house ready for sale, or rental, or some form of both.

We've been looking in Westgate, an area close to our home, near a park, between two major roads. Still though, the west side of this city is neglected for stuff to do and I'm not sure how long it's going to take for things to develop. There's still no coffee shop here, it's ridiculous! More space and less yard is the ideal situation.

Today we looked in Merion/Hungarian Village, an area south of downtown and south of the prestigious German Village, which means the real estate is less expensive. One house was way out of our price range, the other two were interesting. One was already in contract. I suspect real estate sells there fast as it is becoming a more desirable area to live.

So at some point in the late spring of 2015 we'll start looking in earnest, at homes we're really interested in looking inside.

In other news, I got a rejection today. It's ok, have to do better. In my head it's that simple.

A visit and a memory

Stopped by the library to pick up my reserve of the new Murakami book, one chapter in and all is well. While there, one of the clerks, who worked with my on Sundays at the Hilltop, asked my if I missed public service.

After I laughed for about five minutes I said no. I do miss seeing the new, more popular work instead of the more academic materials I do process these days but there is no way I would trade anything now. The last few years there were rough. I was profoundly unhappy and should not have been dealing with the public in any way. My leaving was good for everyone.

Ten years ago, this happened. Here's a Live Journal entry about a typical day in the life of the Hilltop. Yes, it's more than a bit cynical and a bit hateful. Such was my life in 2004.

"Had a train wreck of a customer. She had us print up a list of the books she had checked out. Then proceeded to say that she returned about half of them last night. I looked on the shelves for one of them, it wasn't there.

She then went out into her car, a few minutes later came back with a huge tub full of books - including the one she claimed to have returned in the book drop overnight.

I overheard her talking to my supervisor. She said she clearly remembered returning one book in particular. That the book was so big that she hurt her hand on the book drop door. My supervisor looked the book up and said, "This book is a small paperback that cost $2.99."

If there was any liquid in my mouth, there would have been a spit take.

God, that was funny.

After she did her business, she asked if she could leave the tub on the check-in counter. For some reason, we did. A few minutes later an elderly customer dropped her copy of the latest Evanovich right in the tub.

I've never seen my supervisor laugh so hard.

We moved the tub off the counter after that. About an hour later, the train wreck came back, and was looking for her tub. Luckily I told her we'd moved it before her panic would set in."

Sucky next 38 hours

After too many nights of interrupted sleep caused by my son not sleeping through the night we've decided to try something new. When he was much younger and had the same problem we tried melotonin and it had a reverse effect. This was at least eight or nine years ago. Tonight we slipped some liquid melotonin in with his pudding. Not sure what the results will be but he was not interested in drinking the milk we put it in last night - where he went to bed around 10PM and woke up about six, which for him is a good night.

So he's lying on the couch right now, which is normal for him. When he falls asleep and whether or not he sleeps through the night is now the question.

This was also one of those days I'm not sure if he understands what is happening. I drove him up to his new school and explained to him that he is going to be going here soon, that it is his new school and that it's going to be like his old one but different too. His response was to put his hands over his ears, which is a newer thing of his to do. We have a soon to be twelve year old surly teenager.

Not sure if my blood pressure is dropping the way my doctor would like. I'm on two medications for it now. Monday I'm undergoing a medical procedure which means I can't eat any solid food tomorrow and have to purge the system, as it were.

When my two older brothers hit fifty and develop cancer means I have to be vigilant, hence the procedure. Who knows when my genetic switch will activate?

In the time I took to write this, his eyes are closing, and he's out. Not sure if it's the melotonin or not.

Now if the idiots in my neighborhood would stop shooting off fireworks it can be even quieter around here.

An old one who will be missed, and a new one that is more than welcome

One of the major voices of my life died this week. Ralph Kiner was one of the trio, which included Lindsey Nelson and Bob Murphy, who announced Mets baseball games during my formative years. Kiner was there from the team's inception of 1962 until 2006. Being away from New York television for over thirty years did not diminish Kiner's impact on my love and knowledge of the game. He was an outstanding hitter whose career was cut short by a back injury and a class announcer with a penchant for some whoppers of malapropisms. "It's Father's Day so to all you fathers out there, happy birthday."

Ralph Kiner was 91.

After a long time of waiting, Dirty Franks West finally opened on Monday. I commend the Columbus Food League for taking a chance on the west side and making the commitment. It's a similar menu to the spot on 4th Street, but the space is almost double the size. There's even a small stage.



There is also some more great artwork by Tim Lessner on the walls. The space is divided in two. There's the bar half with some seating, and a dining area with plenty of tables.



Lessner did not, to my knowledge, create this work - which is what guys look at while facing the urinal.



The expansion of Dirty Franks is a fine asset to the west side, a part of town that is very under served. I hope this is the start of more business setting up shop here so we do not have to drive all over town for say, a coffee shop.



After 11 years of living here I may finally have a local. 2836 West Broad.

Ten years ago

After seeing a lot of rumor and speculation on message boards about his death, I sent an email to a record label contact and had the horrible news confirmed. As you see at the end of the video, he was a troubled man, but so talented. Wonder what he'd be doing today?



In other news I went out to my car this morning to find it was invaded during the overnight. Papers strewn about and the front doors were left ajar. Nothing of value was taken, maybe a screwdriver. They did not want my clip-on sunglasses, car booster seat or cassette adapter. That is why I leave the doors unlocked. A few years ago, thieves broke a window of the Volvo and stole the stereo, that's not going to happen again. Could have been much worse.

Cranky in Columbus

The last few weeks, months even, have been a struggle. You can tell my the decreased number of posts here. Schedules have changed, then changed again and it's been frustrating to redevelop any sense of flow. So I'm tired and may be a bit burnt out.

I'm still trying to process one of the neighbor's adult children who noticed the door to my shed open and told me he was going to have to shoot that person before he realized it was me in there. A late afternoon stand someone else's ground west side shooting would have been a blast to cover.

At least I have finally made the calls to get some bids on pruning the tree in the yard that has branches going over their roof, and mine.

After falling asleep about 10:30 last night my son decided to get up at 3AM and stay awake until about six. I was not pleased by his random babblings, humming and various uses of Dora the Explorer dialogue. Ended up having to call into work, again, because of his sleep habits. It's very frustrating, has been for years. I've learned to not go into work sleep deprived because I'm a real pain in the ass to deal with. Might be easier in my current job, but not when I worked the circulation desk in the morning.

Did manage to get him on the bus then fell asleep for a couple of hours. Headed downtown to get some lunch, still in a mean mood but this beer at The Jury Room helped me out a bit.



Downtown looked good on an early autumn day. Columbus made me sit in the Commons and forced some Jeni's down my throat too, I hate when that happens.

This city has secrets

My use of my turntable comes and goes with the warm weather and my motivation. The Back Room of the house is where I keep the stereo now days. In cleaning out the basement, my wife brought up all my records. We've cleaned out the space so it's becoming a pleasant little man cave for me. All the records on one one side of the room now, and alphabetized.

There are several fine records shops in this city. I rarely have the time to go to them but I enjoy going to Spoonful Records on Long Street. Brett's a fine owner who is very helpful in getting you what you're looking for, if it's not already there. When I'm in the campus area I like to hit Used Kids, which has a large selection of new and old in a larger, unorganized space.

There are a couple of others north of campus that I've been to, but have no real experience with as a buyer, so I can't really judge either way.

Today, thanks to a short sentence on the Columbus Underground message board, my interest was piqued. There was a sentence noting there was a record store on West Broad that was one of the best in the city.

I've lived in Columbus for 22 years and on the west side for a decade and no knowledge. So I did a little googling and vowed to stop in after completing a few errands this afternoon.

When I walked in, I saw this.



And on the other side of this wall of records was this.



There is more to this place. Much, much more. It's run by Al, a older, friendly, guy who knows his stock. It's said there are about 200,000 records here. And they're organized, but if you can't find it ask Al, he probably knows where it is.

While browsing, I muttered under my breath, "Where do you start?"

A woman crate digging said, "Pick a letter."

As good advice as any.

Now the catches.

It's only open on Saturday, from about 11-6.

There are no prices on the records, so I think it's based on the owner's whim and his reliance on a record pricing book. I bought Warren Zevon and Procol Harum records, I have to say the condition of the discs are excellent. He charged me ten bucks. He prefers cash. I'm not sure if haggling over prices will get you anywhere. I was not in there long enough to find out.

So. Where is it? Memory Lane Records is at 2338 West Broad Street, at Oakley. Happy hunting!

Hollywood Casino, First Friday in March

I was standing in the middle of a casino on the west side of Columbus.
Around me there was screaming from the blackjack tables.
From of joy or sorrow? I was not sure.
Bells and alarms from the slot machines were going off
the way emergency squads respond in large metropolitan areas.
In front of me Sheena Easton was singing Strut



It was her.
All five feet of her
Introduced by a hypeman
Yes, Sheena Easton has a hypeman
who also played the Kenny Rogers role
during We've Got Tonight
Yes, these things actually happened
Sheena Easton stood on a stage in the middle of a casino
two point three miles from my house
sang a medley of songs by Alexander Nevermind
And fit a few lines from The Glamorous Life in her set



My wife was busy playing the nickel slots
during U Got the Look
I moved closer to the stage when Sheena Easton
sang, Almost Over You
There was a tap on my arm
"Are you, Ed?"
a woman asked me
I recognized her as someone I may or may not have had a crush on
during a job I had in a bookstore many years ago.
"Yes." I said
"You worked at Long's. You're name starts with an M?"
I had not seen her since a funeral over a decade earlier
"Stacy."
"Oh, right. This is surreal," I said as fifty three year old Sheena Easton
belted out the high note as best as she could
which was not bad
considering she was singing on a Friday night at a casino on
the west side of Columbus, Ohio.
And Stacy I'm completely over you if I ever had you to be over to begin with
which I did not tell her as she left with a guy I'm guessing was her husband
since we were not introduced
My wife came back
having won ten dollars after starting with two on the penny slots,
while I laughed at Blue Jackets defenseman Nikita Nikitin getting into his first NHL fight on the projection screens over Sheena Easton's head as she sang Sugar Walls.
Ten years ago, none of this was possible
But now, anything is
in a venue without windows, just down the road from our home

Might as well post my work instead of hiding it

To start the year, three days in, a poem. Not sure if I'm going to put more of my work out here this year. That said, where else is my work going? Not like I've got people begging to publish my work or I'm submitting it anywhere.


From the streets of the under served

On a neglected street on the west side of Columbus
in the shadow of a pile of used tires
there is a brick on the ground
Next to it is a used yellowed condom
and I ask myself
"Is this why we have a casino now?"
Is this why a dormant perpetually losing sports team
gets millions of slot machine revenue
While there is a pothole in my alley
deep enough to bury a racehorse

At 1:25AM on new year's day
there is random gunfire
snapping out of my son's mouth
in the form of episodes of the Wonderpets
and a few verses of happy birthday
It is not my birthday for another six months
It is not his eleventh birthday until exactly nine months from this moment
And I'm trying to determine the difference between
visits and units of service from my insurance company
for his occupational therapies
I have my own emotional cliff to cling to
The raise a congressman just voted himself
could pay half of my son's treatment for a year

There are fireworks exploding in the backyard
of the boarded up house on the corner
a foreclosed building is a magnet for gunpowder
a broken fence a bed for empty spray paint cans
My neighborhood is not vibrant
It is barely sustaining itself amidst the evicted bedbugs who once resided in couches on the lawn next to my house
I can walk to play roulette
but cannot to get a cup of coffee and wi-fi
But i can find an old tire,
tie it to a tree in my front yard
Call it a theme park

Tough times on the west side

In the ten years since we've lived on the west side, the house next door has had a slew of tenants. Some of them leave after a month or two quietly. Others have had plenty of backyard drama with a lot of yelling and weapons being discharged. Who knows what else has gone on in there? Hydroponics and basement lights that were on 24/7? Various sizes of dogs sadly chained and penned up.

The most recent tenants had three kids. And they were kids who played a lot in the yard, made kid noise with balls going into our yard that I threw back because I always vowed to not be that neighbor, the ball keeper. One afternoon one of the urchins rigged up a skateboard as a swing in a tree. Trouble was, the tree is in my yard and having been a kid, that contraption would end with something breaking - and I'm not going to pay for that. Went over and met the mother of at least one of the kids, a fearful, once pretty young woman who may be in an overwhelming situation. She was quite apologetic when I went over and said my case, and the dangerous object was taken off my tree.

The last few weeks were tough. There was more yelling than usual and the police were on the front porch at least once. The backyard was a mess, with the kids using tires and an old crib we threw out that became co-opted as some form of fort. You have to give them credit for being creative.

Sometime during the day yesterday they were evicted.



Checked for court cases on the county website and confirmed that they were, in fact, evicted.



Really not keen with what was left behind for everyone to see though. Hope the kids are ok. You can find out a lot of sad, unfortunate things from the Clerk of Courts website.



This is the part I really do not like. The house has been trashed, gutted and who knows what is on the lawn. I heard some people out there earlier, throwing some of the crap into a pickup truck. If this is not cleaned up by Monday I will be calling the city to get the landlord to clean up this mess.

Climbing onward

Breathing out after dealing with a surprise billing by my son's day camp. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what the bill was for, since we had paid in full. After talking to the big cheese of billing, I was reassured we would not be charged. Again, for what, I'm still trying to figure out.

I also bought something else I'd never bought before. A couple of years ago it was a mailbox.

This year it's a step ladder.



My wife was cleaning outside and could not reach the top of the windows, she may be tall, but she's not that tall.

Hit a Mexican grocery store on the way home, got some ideas for a future What I'm Drinking episode.

In very exciting news, Dirty Frank's Hot Dog Palace is opening a second location in Westgate!

As Yogi Berra said, "Nobody goes there anymore, it's too crowded." Which is how I feel, a little, about the first Dirty Franks location. It's always packed. I'm not whining, and admire their success. Damn those crowds though! It's wonderful that they're expanding to my side of town, where people (including myself) are starving for decent businesses to open. That The Columbus Food League would take a chance on the west side is a huge step to attracting more diverse retail and dining options.

Is a coffee shop next?

What I'm Drinking, Episode 20

Monday questions

Why do the people next door hate trees?

Why won't my kid poop in the toilet?

What the hell is wrong with my scanner? It will not scan at the actual size.



What makes a large family split into divisions, then into nothing at all?

Who did the picture of the child in my dead Great Uncle's wallet grow up to be?

Hey Mister, can we have our ball back?

Oh to live on the west side, where your neighbor's buddy brings over his car which has a stereo that rattles the upstairs furniture around. This happened several times yesterday afternoon. Classy, like the new overweight patriarch standing on the back patio, talking on his cell, wearing only boxers.

I'm talking bets on when the inflatable pool makes its annual appearance.

Then again, they're not the ones with 3/4 of a crappy Sauder computer desk sitting in the backyard.

There are at least three kids who live there. Last week my wife was doing some gardening and they all came up to the fence to talk to her. She had an audience.

The other day one of the asked me why I locked my car door. Yes, it happened again.

For my wife, and for me as well, it's a bit odd being asked questions by a child. We're not used to it. I'm certainly not. Nine years in and my own son still does not ask questions.

I was reading in the back room a couple of days ago when he came in, stood by the back door, said, "Outside."

I told him he could go out if he put his shoes on. He leaves. A couple of minutes later he shows up, shoes on the right feet, velcro not quite tight enough. He got to go out.

The neighbor's kids keep asking about him. What do we say? They know he's different.

They also keep throwing their balls over our fence, which does not bother me. When I was around their age we had asshole neighbors behind us who were total dicks when we asked to get a ball that went into their yard. I vowed to not be like them.

In other news I'm doing a short feature at 10:30 on Friday night at Kafe Kerouac to benefit the Writers' Block Poetry Slam team. Admission is free.

Abode 3, House 1, Years 9.5

I do not recommend closing on a house when your child was born premature and is in the NICU. We had been looking throughout the pregnancy and might not have made a decision on this place. Then my son jumped out at us all. We could have kept looking for another month. Desperation makes people do desperate things. Our landlord was being an unsympathetic ass. There was another house we did like, a bit further east of where we are now. The house was brick, on a quieter side street, seemed solid and the basement was more usable. But flaky owners jacked up the price at the first sniff of two potential buyers.



So we ended up with this one instead. Close to where I worked at the time, there's nothing else around, really. There's a sad Kroger that way, and a sadder IGA where a girl got shot in the face the other. It could have been worse. That whole time was a blur of emotion and stress. There was too much crap, and all of her crap brought to our old apartment weeks before were supposed to move in here did not help next to all of my crap. My parents and sister came to help, they wanted to kill me for having too much crap. I did not feel to good about me either.

Then there were the twin ugly QVC rocking chairs that broke less than a year after we had them. Thanks for adding to the pile of junk. Gosh, being a first time parent was starting out so well.

Yes, it was a mess. And I won't even mention the killer ceiling fan incident.

I got this 82 year old house in the divorce, refinanced it a couple of years later and am now trapped here, underwater. At least the reassessment lowered the value of the house considerably, taxes are incredibly low. There, one advantage. And there is a roof over our heads that does not leak the way the toilet now does, again.

So this is my Scottish Wife's mansion. She's done a great job cleaning up my crap and making it a lovely home. She gets it when I die. The streets of America are truly paved with gold.

No, really. Can I win the lottery and give this house to the first taker?

Job Number Nine

Spent six and a half years here, the longest I've ever worked anywhere to date.

Not going to recap it much. That all went into my live journal, probably a bit too much of it went there. The great difficulty of the last few years were scarily detailed, when I tried getting ahead in the system and his the glass ceiling repeatedly.

Saw so much theft and lying, and people getting away with it on a daily basis. Learned too late it's not what you do wrong there, but who you are doing it. The place was crazy. A corporate culture of fear became predominant, and that came from management. A lot of people with serious problems would come in, and expect us to heal their woes. Many of the librarians were more like social workers who were skilled in calming down people who acted out continually.

I think this little rant summed up this experience best of all. We got this memo from the boss.

"Hi Staff,

I want your quick feedback on this...What is [workplace's] personality? What does it feel like? What does it look like? How would you describe it?

Please have your feedback to me..."

Naturally, being the obedient drone, I responded

"[workplace] is like the cool college professor you had. The one who would encourage open discussion on many topics without bias, but kept the conversation flowing and made the class safe and interesting. Everyone wanted to attend his classes. There were waiting lists every semester.

Until, seemingly overnight, the professor changed. Discussion was no longer encouraged. Busy work was assigned during class time that took away from the now infrequent open discussion of topics and ideas. Dissent of any kind was frowned upon. Class attendance dropped. Grades were now given by taking tests on opscan sheets instead of creative essays. Then, one semester, the professor disappeared, and no one knew where he went."

And I wondered why I never got that promotion, nor a reply.

The last straw was when HR spelled my name wrong on the memo they sent that told me I was not even going to be considered for an interview for a specific position.

Getting on the escape committee was hard though. In the end, it was a relief. I no longer wanted to be there. I'm sure my attitude was not great. It was best for everyone: myself, my coworkers and the customers. I rarely go in there anymore. The last few times there were people screaming at each other in the parking lot. A child was raped in the bathroom. Another kid was followed out of the building then robbed of his laptop at the nearby bus stop. It's not a safe place. I worry about the people who continue to work there.