Wee Scoops

Measure for Measure

Feeling old in a library

Great Gilbert Scott

Great Gilbert Scott (Photo credit: SpoiltCat)

One thing I never did is live in the West End.

Of Glasgow, that is.

This week I lived a couple of days of someone else’s life – at least that’s how it felt. I am doing (nearly finished) a wee short course at Glasgow University (not that I haven’t got enough to do, but hey-ho) and needed to go in to the Library to work on my assignment.

Wfm glasgow university library

Wfm glasgow university library (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

At least, I thought I should go in – although practically everything I want to know is available through my computer at home when coupled with my handy matric card (which I am looking forward to using at Fat Face for a discount before long – to continute to develop my “wife-at-fat-face” look for the festive season).

I enjoyed the novelty of going on the Subway. I am glad that since the last time I was on the clockwork orange they have put up big plastic barriers to stop you backing off the platform onto the rails. I used to hate being on those “between” platforms. It’s so dinky compared to the London Underground. It’s as if, well, as if we are shorter than Londoners or something. But it smells just like the London underground.

I enjoyed sitting in the library looking at the tower thing of the Huntarian Museum with brooding clouds behind it promising rain.

What was weird was the whole library experience. Back in the day, I would equip myself with an A4 notebook, an array of pens and highlighters; source myself the relevant materials, like, physically; lay them out on the table, read them and take notes. Then, I would go for a coffee, giggle in the stairwells, pass notes to my friends and figure it was about time to go for another coffee.

Here, twenty years later, no one has a pen. Everyone logs into a computer. No one goes to the shelf. You read the books and periodicals on the screen. No one has a note book. You copy and paste the notes onto a word document.

Ha. Easy.

Not so easy to doodle, now, is it?

I couldn’t bring myself to take notes on a screen. Just in case they disappeared into cyberspace. I copied out chunks. Showing my age, that’s for sure – although I think I blended in with my strategically selected outfit that I will leave to your imagination.

It’s weird how there were so many people in the library, given that you can access so much from home.

Maybe everyone else had dishes they were avoiding washing too.

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8 thoughts on “Feeling old in a library

  1. Ugh, that would mess up my favorite part of the library experience, the physicality of the books, the writing of the notes and everything about being old school 🙂

  2. That is weird. If you’re not going to look at the books, why bother?

    I’m a great believer in note-taking. I’m convinced that’s how the stuff sinks in.

    • It probably has more of a study ethos than their student flats, I’d imagine.
      And yes to the note-taking. If it goes in your eyes and down your arm and onto paper, some of it might register in your brain, I reckon.

  3. One of my very favourite libraries, not least because it has some lovely comfy chairs in nooks and crannies which are perfect for sleeping in. Or at least they were in my day…

    Did you go to the older periodicals section and sniff the pages?

  4. It is very different to St Andrews and New College. People here have books on subjects that you can imagine would get them a job that contributes to society, like bridge-building (actual making of bridges, not our Xian notion of being nice), saving lives (like actually stopping someone from premature death, rather than “saving” them eschatologically), and corporate finance (although to be honest that may contain more ills than I could cope with.

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