Library 21c, Colorado Springs, Colorado

When the zombie apocalypse happens, this is where we will live. I absolutely adored the Library 21c branch in Colorado Springs--it is peak mallage, so mallesque that you can almost smell the fresh merch, hot off the factory floor. Of course, it really smells like a library with an added tang of coffee since there is a treat shop on the first floor. Otherwise, this place looks custom built to house clothing, candle, and knickknack stores and you would barely recognize it as library, especially on the first floor, where the majority of the space is reserved for kicky, kooky lounge chairs and couches.

I'm not sure that Library 21c is the best name for it since it reminded me so strongly of malls...perhaps Library 1992? As I worked my way around the place I was practically skipping with glee.

I took the elevator up to the second floor because A) I can and B) I will never pass up a glass elevator. The glass elevator seems more appropriate for high rises, but I've only ever ridden in the 2 and 3 story varieties because apparently these sweeping views of endless merchandise must be seen at all times, from all angles, including the 15 second ride between mall floors. See the sweeping view?

Sweeping view

The second floor had many meeting rooms and a bank of chairs against the wall facing Pike's Peak itself. A lot of the shades were pulled so you couldn't really see it very well. There were also old school cubicles set up all around with tall walls that obstructed the views but featured the precious electrical outlets I've come to depend on. There were also these nifty, glassed in work spaces with 4-seat desks hogged up by slouching dudes looking conspiratorial so were likely gaming (and more power to them). I would have snagged one myself, but ended up at one of the cubicles which was also equally fine.

When I started working in publishing I had a proper cubicle with a wall with shelves and a decent sized desk with plenty of storage space. By the time I left, the open plan plague was in full swing, but we'd reached that point through a long, tortured road of smaller cubicles with tiny walls where nothing could be affixed and storage was at a premium. Considering that we were thing makers, we needed space to keep things, but at the end the belief was that we didn't really even need to see the things we were making. We'd just wait for complaints and figure it was all working out at the other end without further review or care.

It was nice to sit in an old school cubicle. As much as they've been reviled over the years (who wouldn't prefer an office, I ask you), a real cubicle kicks the living shit out of open plan any day, any time, any place, world without end amen.

Also, truth be told, now that we are all maybe a bit overeducated in zombie physiology and maintenance, I would imagine Colorado would be a terrible refuge from a mumbling, shuffling zombie army. All those cool temperatures would nicely refrigerate our former friends and family and keep them from spoiling, falling apart, and losing forward motion, brain-hunting abilities. I've given up on The Walking Dead (Glenn was the last straw, but I was already exhausted by the interminable grimness) but eventually all those zombies have to break down to pieces, parts, shivering bones, and dust, right? Anyway, cool climates are probably a bad idea, which means jungle climates (promoting advaned decomposition) are the way to go. Also, and this should be a shock to exactly no one, I'll not be attending the zombie apocalypse. 

I mean, I could stand a mob of shambling horrors chasing me down the street to my ultimate doom...but in the humid heat? UGH, forget it.

I had to flee Library 21c as soon as I realized the weather was about to take a turn for the worse, but it was a delightful cap to the library tour (which is almost, but not quite, over). Next stop: Best/Worst Awards, Things of Note, and Product Recommendations!

Pike's Peak as viewed from the parking lot.

Manitou Springs Library, Manitou Springs, Colorado

Manitou Springs is one of those great old mountain towns that still retains the beauty and character the original town founders likely intended. There are tiny shops full of trinkets custom made to lure tourists in on their way to the Pike's Peak...and the fact that the town is very near a major trailhead is obvious when you visit the Manitou Springs Library. While the library itself is likewise very tiny (an ancient, creaking ship of worn wood and musty books), a good number of people came in during my short visit, and several were clearly just coming off the mountain to reconnect to civilization and the cursed blessing of its electronic wonders.

The Manitou Springs Library looks like an old mansion that the city council decided to turn into the local library. I can't find a history of it, but just walking through the interior you know there has to be generations of stories underneath the stacks and behind the walls.

Just like any other library, it is set up with all the most up-to-date technology (self check out, computer stations, etc.) but the building itself is a creaky antique with odd little alcoves, small doors to nowhere, and yards of quirk and curiosities. It sits nested among long-settled neighborhoods on winding, narrow streets, and is set well back from the main street with a long, sloped lawn and many old growth trees surrounding the property.

When you walk into the the library, you can either go up to the main floor, or down to the children's floor (this is also where the somewhat makeshift bathroom resides). The main library consists of two public rooms, the larger of which contains the majority of the stacks, the computer stations, work tables, and a couple of easy chairs that look like they were left behind by the original owners. The smaller, sub-room houses the DVDs which, as you might expect, garnered the largest amount of local foot traffic.

The work tables do not offer electricity, so I knew it was going to be a short trip, but it was somewhat early on that I heard conversations about oncoming storms and wanted to get moving to the next library sooner than later anyway. It was fun to watch the hikers (all youths, all a bit rolled in dirt but so tech savvy it was mind reeling) reconnect with obvious relief to the larger world and comforts of home, family, and friends. Who knows how long they were out of contact--I was effectively out of range with almost no wifi opportunities for a couple of days at Big Bend and felt completely untethered and weirded out. 

Part of the reason we travel is to disconnect at least a little, but it's kind of a shock when you realize just how dependent you are on all the phones, apps, tablets, and laptops--and most of all, the connection to the internet. We're so affixed we may have missed the historic moment in time when we all became, for all intents and purposes, cyborgs. Finally (ahhh).