Ancient librarians and weird little kids

I've been a bit weird as long as I can remember.

Not 'eat glue' weird. But more 'grown man stuck in a kid's body' weird.

I think Mrs. Prince was the first to notice.

My grade school librarian. Delightful woman. She was old as long as I could remember.

Isn't that how it is as a grade schooler? Librarians were always old.

But who knows? Maybe she was 40...

I remember three things about my grade school library.

1. Matt Christopher. I was nuts about baseball and I read the classics... The Kid Who Only Hit Homers, Catcher with a Glass Arm, The Year Mom Won the Pennant, et al.
2. D.A.R.E. We met in the library. The officer showed us a picture of tarred lungs. I'm pretty sure my buddy Pat and I snuck off with a hard pack of his dad's Marlboro Reds shortly thereafter. And the officer left us this jewel... "I won't hesitate to pull someone over and give them a ticket for going one mile over the speed limit." The recollection I have of that exact moment, true or otherwise, was me thinking to myself... "What an a**hole." I stand by that.
3. Thoreau's Walden. I checked it out more than once. I only remember because Mrs. Prince called attention to seeing my name on the checkout card in the front of the book multiple times.

I don't remember why I was so interested in Thoreau. I guess the idea of being alone in the woods has always appealed to me.

And I certainly don't remember any meaningful takeaways at 11-years-old. I doubt even the average 40-year-old today would have much in the way of takeaways.

But it's one of those books for good reason. The first chapter alone is worth the price of admission. Actually, it's in the public domain...

Economy. It's a banger.

Look it up and print it out. Or send it to your Kindle.

And read. Slowly. Carefully.

I've got a guess now. Some thirty-some years after Mrs. Prince noticed my name on that card again and again.

Economy is about people working themselves to death for things. Things they were told they needed and never once questioned.

I couldn't have told you that at 11. But the book pulled at me. That weird little kid kept checking out the answer years before he could understand the question.

Turns out I'm still that kid. Still weird. Still pulled toward the same question.

Does it have to be this way?

Best,

John Montgomery