SPEAKING OF VALUES

One man’s muddled mind If my calculations are correct (and that isn’t necessarily a given - just ask the IRS), this column is the 1,001 of my column-writing career. OK, there were all of those other columns I wrote during six years as a TV critic for a daily newspaper. But come on - I was writing about TV. That doesn’t really count, does it? I started writing this weekly column in 1990. I wish I could tell you that I keep doing this week after week because I feel like I’m really making a difference in the world, or there are people out there who need my weekly words. But that would be pretentious.. it’s not an outright lie. Because when it comes right down to it, I do this for me. It is almost completely selfish. I write because I need to write. This is how I cope. This is how I wrestle with the daily dilemmas of life. It isn’t just what I do - it’s who I am. Back in 1982, before I had this weekly forum, my Mom died. It wasn’t unexpected - she suffered with a lung disease, and we knew the end was coming. When my big brother Bud called me in the middle of the night to let me know that she had passed, I took the news stoically. And Bud was concerned about that. I was, after all, Mom’s baby - the youngest of her eight children. She and I had a special relationship. I was a Mama’s boy. And I was, no doubt, her favorite. Pay no attention to what my sister Kathy says on the matter. I was. End of discussion. Bud understood that. Which is why he was troubled by my calmness at the news. “Are you OK?” he asked after a moment of silence. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. Really.” And then I hung up the phone and went into my little Selectric typewriter and started to write. I didn’t have an audience in mind. I wasn’t writing for publication. I was just writing because ... well ... I write. I sat down, closed my eyes and let my feelings and emotions flow out of my fingers. By the time I was done I was ready to face the world Mom-less. Or at least, as ready as I was going to be. By way of contrast, Sept. 11, 2001, fell on a Tuesday - the deadline day for my column (many apologies to the editors who keep hoping I’ll turn it in on Monday - I will keep trying!). I had the TV on as I was sitting in front of my computer trying to get a column done when news of the first plane hitting the World Trade Center came through. I sat there, riveted to the TV set, stunned by each new event - the second plane hitting the World Trade Center, the plane hitting the Pentagon, the plane crashing near Shanksville, Pa. So much death. So much confusion. So much fear. So of course, I wrote. Only this time I had someone - or many someones - to whom I could write. This column became my outlet, as I let flow all that I was feeling in a world suddenly, frighteningly, horrifically turned upside down. That is what the column has been for me - all 1,001 of them. Not all of them have been good, of course. Some of them have been frankly awful. Others have been painfully self-indulgent (like this one, I’m afraid). But they have all reflected what I was thinking and feeling and experiencing at the time. You have been my outlet, my therapist, my own personal crisis hot line. Which means I probably owe you some kind of counseling fee. Good luck collecting on that. I hope there has been some benefit for you in all this - maybe a word or two of comfort, or a little cheer when you needed it. Perhaps by sharing my experiences and thoughts I have triggered some pleasant memories and thoughts of your own. That would at least be some compensation for what you have given me. At the very least I owe you my thanks. Thanks for being there. Thanks for listening. Thanks for writing back occasionally - even those of you who scold me when I’m out of line (which is all too often, I’m afraid). Thanks for overlooking the weak columns and embracing the good ones. But more than anything else, thanks for reading. It’s what binds us one to another, and makes this weekly adventure into one man’s sometimes muddled mind a shared experience. One I hope to share with you at least 1,001 more times. Window of opportunity For nearly ten years now, Pike County has not increased its support for the Pike County Public Library (PCPL) system by a single penny. So, in order to meet ever higher operating costs and demand for its services in the fastest growing county in Pennsylvania, the library has had to forego or curtail certain library services, remain in blatantly undersized facilities and repeatedly dip into its reserves. I understand that the library is now close to running out of operating funds and may soon be forced to reduce and/or eliminate many of its services. In other words, unless additional funding is forthcoming, the PCPL will have to slash it services by taking drastic measures which could include: • opening fewer hours each day, and even closing one or more days a week; • closing altogether one or more of its branches; • closing a number of its “drop boxes” (where books can be left for pick up by the library); • eliminating a number of library services for which the library is currently paying and which it currently offers free of charge; • cutting back on its Web-based services; • significantly reducing staffing; which means we are likely to experience delays and more difficult access to more limited and costly library services. The PCPL certainly no longer is the library of yesterday, i.e. basically a mere repository for books. One look at the PCPL Web site: www.pcpl.org/ and you will agree that the PCPL is poised to become a multi-facetted resource center. In a way, you could say that the PCPL already offers each one of us a window of opportunity to a life time of learning through both traditional and information technology based library services. The PCPL offers something for everyone, people of all ages, young and old, no matter what one’s income. There is no other single county wide institution which offers as much to such a wide array of Pike County residents. On the November 3rd ballot you will be asked to support a dedicated tax in the order of $ 35 per average household per year to assure that our library can continue to provide each one of us with a life time of learning. Support your children’s future and the development of Pike County, vote this November to fund the Pike County Public Library. Bertrand J. Delanney Milford