Today is #NationalLibraryWorkersDay  When I was a kid I was usually in 1 of 3 places: on my dad’s set, deep in the woods, or at the library (and ok, maybe a little at school as well). I have so many memories of going to my local library in Greenwich, CT after school each day.  I could walk there from the school campus, and there was a small cafeteria downstairs that made the most delicious turkey sandwiches and brownies (which is basically my only sustenance when I was a kid). This was in the late 80s and early 90s, those pre-internet days.  So I spent all that time (now spent browsing the web) perusing the stacks, leafing through books, quizzing librarians, and crouching down in a corner to assess each book on whether it warranted checking out or not .  Reading was difficult for me as a youngster.  But, in 3rd grade, I fell in love with the library when I had to spend a week there researching my 1st official research paper about cheetahs.  At the conclusion of the week, I turned in my paper that  Friday morning and still went to the library that afternoon - this time for fun.  I strongly suspect if it weren't for the library I wouldn’t have become such a reader (by 4th grade I was often reading an entire Christopher Pike or R.L. Stein book a night). Today reading is my happy place, and whenever I’m feeling anxious I look at my bookshelf to help me feel relaxed. Perhaps that’s strange, but books feel like the ultimate luxury to me.  I can part with most things, but it is painful to let go of a book. When I was 18 years old I experienced the incredible honor of being an intern at Vanity Fair in the research department.  Conde Nast had just moved offices to 4 times square, and as a researcher, I naturally spent most of my days at the New York Public Library.  This deserves perhaps a longer explanation but, in short, I became myself in that library.  Scrolling through microfiche, leafing through rare copies of magazines from past decades, compiling all of the information in the Rose Main Reading Room.  It was assimilating this information that helped form my idea of what being an adult (and citizen) meant. And while the library itself is magnificent, my most

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Today is #NationalLibraryWorkersDay  When I was a kid I was usually in 1 of 3 places: on my dad’s set, deep in the woods, or at the library (and ok, maybe a little at school as well). I have so many memories of going to my local library in Greenwich, CT after school each day.  I could walk there from the school campus, and there was a small cafeteria downstairs that made the most delicious turkey sandwiches and brownies (which is basically my only sustenance when I was a kid). This was in the late 80s and early 90s, those pre-internet days.  So I spent all that time (now spent browsing the web) perusing the stacks, leafing through books, quizzing librarians, and crouching down in a corner to assess each book on whether it warranted checking out or not .  Reading was difficult for me as a youngster.  But, in 3rd grade, I fell in love with the library when I had to spend a week there researching my 1st official research paper about cheetahs.  At the conclusion of the week, I turned in my paper that  Friday morning and still went to the library that afternoon - this time for fun.  I strongly suspect if it weren't for the library I wouldn’t have become such a reader (by 4th grade I was often reading an entire Christopher Pike or R.L. Stein book a night). Today reading is my happy place, and whenever I’m feeling anxious I look at my bookshelf to help me feel relaxed. Perhaps that’s strange, but books feel like the ultimate luxury to me.  I can part with most things, but it is painful to let go of a book.

When I was 18 years old I experienced the incredible honor of being an intern at Vanity Fair in the research department.  Conde Nast had just moved offices to 4 times square, and as a researcher, I naturally spent most of my days at the New York Public Library.  This deserves perhaps a longer explanation but, in short, I became myself in that library.  Scrolling through microfiche, leafing through rare copies of magazines from past decades, compiling all of the information in the Rose Main Reading Room.  It was assimilating this information that helped form my idea of what being an adult (and citizen) meant.
And while the library itself is magnificent, my most


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