Chicago

Ok, so this is quite a bit later, but let me tell you something most of you already know. Chicago rocks! The ALA conference in July was a real success on every level except comfortable footwear (which was fixed with a two dollar pair of flip flops from Walgreens). Their public transportation is great and I never had to wait more than a few minutes for a bus. Also, drivers there do not seem to run "pink" lights the way we do in Louisville. When I got home that was my resolution to myself--stop when the light is changing. You can guess how well that lasted...

Anyway, as for the conference, highlights were listening to Michael Connelly and Ari Weinzweig speak. I can hear you saying, "Michael Connelly I've heard of but who is this Ari fellow?" He runs a conglomerate of businesses up in Ann Arbor and has written a book about good bacon. Of the six producers he recommends, three are in Kentucky. Darnit, this state is starting to suck me in with the pork!

Connelly was great because he didn't talk about the writing until people asked questions about it, instead he focused on how libraries have been important in his life. A really refreshing approach and it became a mutual appreciation society--him explaining our value and we returning the favor with questions about his writing.

The other conference highlight was definitely the scholarship bash at the Chicago Art Institute. Holy moly! That place has everything! American Gothic? Check. Nighthawks? Check. Terrific small pen and paint by Pollock? Check. You get the idea. When I arrived I thought there was absolutely no way I could spend four hours, especially after a full day of events. Four hours flew by. If you haven't gone. Go. I plan on going back and giving it a full day. One complaint here. While this was a catered affair (simple sandwiches, cheese and fruit) and the bar was "open" if you had collected some "bash cash" earlier in the day, it was slightly embarrassing to see a herd of librarians muscle through the collections and straight to the food. It was more embarrassing to see most people were not tipping the bartenders. Doh! You're representing here, cough up a buck and pretend you care about culture a bit.

The final note is about a little bar I found by the hotel. OK, this place has no signage outside and while I was told it had a name, I can't remember what it was. It used to be a funeral home and still has a casket they trot out for special occasions or when someone needs to sleep it off. So there I am in this old funeral home, having a beer with the locals (hi everyone!) when several well-dressed women come in and proceed to hold a "candle party," you know, where they sell candles and knick-knacks out of a catalog. Surreal.

Everyone in town was wonderfully friendly and I can't wait to go back.