file under S for "SHHHHHHH"

For reasons having to do with the weather and meetings being cancelled, I find myself up on campus with a lot of time on my hands. Too cold to wander around aimlessly, so I plunked myself down in the ILR Library and set up shop. I feel so...cosmopolitan. All wirelessly enabled and stuff.

But here's the thing. Kids these days? They have no library manners. None. Nada. Zip.

When I was in school, you were QUIET in the library. And if you weren't, the librarian came and fed you to the herds of dinosaurs that were roaming freely on the quad. Uphill. In the snow. Both ways.

Now? Well...let's just say that I have been here for close to two hours and someone's cell phone rings on average of twice every 15 minutes. Full scale rings. Like...the first six bars to Beyonce's latest hit at high volume. And, between these little forays into the glory of mp3 enabled personal communication devices, we have a chorus of beeps, chirps, and chimes to announce the arrival of text messages.

I have a cell phone. It's sitting by my elbow. It's even turned on. But, you know what? It's set to vibrate so that I won't disturb anyone else if my husband texts to say that his flight is delayed.

These kids? These ivy-leaguers who can probably make a super computer out of some duct tape, an ipod, and three rubber bands? Can the concept of changing the ringer on their phone REALLY be beyond them?

And the talking! I now know the complete social calendars of three young women, as well as where all of the good parties are going to be this weekend. Also, someone named Sophie thinks that the 210 homework was "way hard", while her friend Zach disagrees and would gladly trade her for his Econ quiz tomorrow.

Where, I ask you, are the librarians? I think I am the only person in this room who is over the age of 25. Shouldn't there be thick-ankled, bespectacled women strolling around the place with yard sticks at the ready? What ever happened to the dulcet tones of QUIET PLEASE being blasted through the library when you sneeze or drop a book?

Somewhere, Mrs. Sipser is quaking in anger. Either that, or my beloved elementary school librarian has had a stroke as a direct result of her inability to insure that this particular library is a quiet, ponderous place that is conducive to learning and the worship of books.