I Have Problems

Okay, there are many people who have more problems than I do, like the fella I'm about to tell you about, but as you will see, I do indeed have issues.

You may recall that a while ago I mentioned a co-worker who insists that moon and June do not rhyme. I may not have mentioned at that time that said co-worker also collects (and talks to) Beanie Babies, wears bow ties with sandals, socks, and shorts (all at the same time), has a baby face, sings like an angel, and is a grandfather in his 60s. He's a very nice man--the kind who would never hurt a fly--but he's also the kind of person whose whimsical nature seems a little put-on to me, and there are few things that drive me crazier than forced whimsy.

So he bugs me, which makes me feel bad because I know he's really a good person.

Anyway, he stopped to chit chat this morning, and happened to mention that the university's ILL Department was able to find a book for him that he hadn't been able to track down anywhere, no matter how hard he tried. He was so grateful when he went in to pick up the book that he hung around to give praise to the librarian, who then--to humor him and maybe get him to quit embarrassing her, I bet--asked about the subject of the book. He told her the book was about Denny Dennis, known in the 40s as "The English Bing Crosby." "Oh," sniffed the librarian, "Didn't he abuse his kids?"

At this point in the story, my co-worker stopped to take a deep breath. He had tears in his eyes. He leaned over mile file cabinet to hide his face in his hands. When he was strong enough, he said, with shaking voice, "That woman is an asshole. Bing Crosby did not abuse his children. I know the truth."

Well. Oh, dear. What to do with this crying man child? I said, "You know, I have a grudge against that library--they won't give me a job!" We sort of commiserated there a bit, and then MY PHONE RANG, so he wandered away. THANK GOD!

So then I quickly jumped online to see just how hard this book would be to find. BECAUSE I CARE, for some reason. I don't care about the British Bing, but I had to know what was giving the crazy co-worker so much trouble. Turns out it's out of print, but readily available if you have a bit of cash. Why do I care? I suppose because I have a Master's Degree, dammit, and must use it whenever the situation presents itself.

I have problems.