Three Failures

1. I did not write this post a couple of weeks ago, back when we were in Seattle, seeing as it is about our trip to Seattle. Ideally, the post about the vacation before the camping trip should be posted before the post about the camping trip. No matter what scoring guide you're using, my organization is a failure.

2. The Seattle Public Library, Central Branch. Don't get me wrong - it's a beautiful building. It's a rare building that offers panoramic views of other areas inside the same building, and the SPL offers several. The kids' section is well stocked and easy to manage, though Christie points out that it is noisy, sterile, and garishly painted. Christie thought the "spiral" design of the upper floors was intriguing and I thought the escalators were striking. I could watch the humongous computer display that tracks circulation for weeks on end. Look, here's a picture of how cool the escalators are:



But - forgive me if I sound old fashioned here - but libraries should be about books and, frankly, I didn't see too many books. This library is sleek and shiny, all glass and polished floors, and books are so ... well, paper and ink. The building gave me the impression that the SPL is incredibly proud of their hip, cutting edge architecture and a wee bit embarrassed by those musty dust collectors called books.

Here's what a library should look like: stack after stack of books piled to the stars, with maybe a ladder or two to help you reach them.

3. Me. Moi. Your faithful narrator and fearless blogger. The story goes like this:

Several years ago, Seattle was one of many cities that hosted a charity event where 30 or so artists decorated 30 or so giant pig sculptures, which were displayed at various locales around the city for 30 or so days. The pigs were then auctioned off to raise money for some noble goal and many (if not all) of the pigs are still displayed in various locales.

As we were walking towards the aforementioned library, we passed a pig named Pigmallion, which inspired me to tell Wrigley a somewhat inaccurate version of the myth of "Pygmalion and Galatea," an ancient myth that the Greeks told with the intention of inspiring the musical My Fair Lady. During my mistelling of the story, I (correctly) pointed out that the Greek gods and goddess often liked to visit mortals dressed as poor people and beggars to test their kindness, generosity, and basic goodness.

Less than a block later, we encountered a panhandler with very bad teeth and a pretty good line: My wife and I have HIV ... Social Security cut me off because I worked too much ... We just need $17 ... just to make it to the end of the month ... We've been to all the services ... just $17. He talked to us for the length of a block and gave up when we crossed the street.

Now, I have no (well, few) doubts about my kindness, generosity, and my basic goodness, but what if? Seriously, what if that just happened to be Apollo I rejected, or Athena? Maybe it was some plain old generic angel sent to the great metropolis of Seattle in search of a single act of human decency? Seriously, what if I was tested?

Well, the answer to that question is obvious.