I am not a gamer. That's notable since I came of age during the time a lot of people consider the golden age of arcade games. I was teen at exactly the moment Space Invaders, Asteroids, Frogger and Pac-Man were revolutionizing video games. That I did not embrace games or gaming at that time can be attributed to a near-comical lack of hand-eye coordination. My general ineptitude ensured that games were not a great value proposition for me, and I quickly learned that my precious quarters were better invested in other pursuits (scale models and tabletop board games for example). That preamble aside, I do occasionally play games. In that capacity, and because my hand-eye coordination has not improved with age, I favor only the most gentle of games; that is, ones that don't involve a lot of skill or dexterity or particularly sharp reflexes. One of the games that fits the bill is called Kind Words. (and in this instance we are using the word "game" in only the most generous...
I use LinkedIn pretty regularly, and since the U.S. elections last November I've really struggled with adhering to unwritten rule that suggests were supposed to keep politics out of our conversations there. The idea being that LinkedIn is a place where we present only our most agreeable and professional selves; checking our strong opinions on hot-button topics like politics and religion at the door. Rows of teen books are seen on shelves in a library The issue for me and those in my field is that we work in a profession (libraries) that is very much on the front lines of politics. Specifically, we are working at a time when politicians and legislators are attempting to control what books can and can't be held in our library collections. We have politically aligned interest groups working to dictate the kinds of programs libraries can offer. We see politicians seeking to restrict access to the professional associations of those in the field. Laws are proposed that would crimina...