Before my last stroke, Oklahoma City’s long-suffering Belle Isle Library at 5501 N. Villa Ave. was in the process of finally renovating, revamping, and renewing its branch. Sadly, I didn't get to go to the ribbon-cutting because I was in a hospital bed clinging to life.
I know this probably doesn’t mean much to most people, but I spent most of my formative years in that library—first as a young patron, then as a teen “reader leader,” and finally as a library page (read: shelving books) making minimum wage.
It wasn't a very sexy job, but it paid my teenage bills, gave me plenty of bookish girls to meet, and a vast superiority complex that to this day is unparalleled and unrivaled. Really, it was such a good job that I really wanted to pursue library science in college but, sadly, my father went into the hospital and never came out and those dreams were dashed.