At Libraries, Tradition Shelved

Before we opened the crinkly book cover, before we even read a word of our new library book, we examined the black-ink stamp on the back of the little hardcover.

“This,” I told my daughter, Claire, 4, “is the book’s history. This tells us when we have to return the book and how many times it’s been taken out before us.”

We counted the number of blue, black and red stamps, some crooked, some right on the lines. We mused about all the different children who might have read “The Three Little Pigs” before us. We decided that some of those kids probably renewed the little hardback a couple of times because they enjoyed it so much.

“That,” I told her, “is the book’s history.”

That is now my history.

We went back to our branch library one recent night to return the book. When we checked out a couple more, we were shocked when the librarian handed us a white cash-register receipt. Alas, no more due-date stamp.

The librarian patiently explained that all Los Angeles public libraries are converting to a computerized checkout system. Our little Studio City branch was among the first to convert.

I felt like telling Claire to forget everything I’ve ever told her. My information is obsolete.

And it had only been two weeks.

Just think of all the misinformation I am conveying. Like the time recently when I told her how exciting it will be when she gets her very own library card--with her name on it.

Then I got a new card.

It’s a flashy, red-and-purple plastic number without a name--except that of the Los Angeles Public Library. It has a computerized bar code on the back, which, to the computer, is my name.

Then I told her about the card catalog and how you can always find a book using index cards and a strange set of numbers called the Dewey Decimal System (not named for our friend Dewey but for Melvil Louis Kossuth Dewey, a librarian and teacher).

Well, forget most of that, too.

*

While the Dewey Decimal System is alive and well, the card catalog’s dead and gone. They’re antiques now, the cards all recycled. Shiny computers have taken the place of those bulky oak cabinets.

Sort of.

What is happening to the library--a place I never thought would go commercial?

Will I be able to use my ATM card to pay overdue fines? Will I be able to renew books by telephone? Will I talk to a machine instead of a librarian?

Where is all this leading us?

Bob Reagan, spokesman for the Los Angeles Public Library system, said he believes libraries are getting better. Faster. More efficient.

Even the book tracking system has improved enormously. Now librarians can search electronically for books throughout the system and have them delivered to your branch.

Just like that Nordstrom clerk calling all their branches for that pair of size 5 1/2 black boots.

But do we really want all that in our little branch libraries? More hours, yes. More librarians, yes.

But cash register receipts? Credit cards?

“All this is designed to provide better service,” Reagan said. “And, besides, your daughter will still be able to see live people reading storybooks and putting on puppet shows. She’s not going to have to get everything on a modem and she’ll have prettier . . . libraries.”

That’s certainly true if we go downtown to the new Central Library, with its open spaces and large reading areas.

But even the elevators there tell the story of the changing world of public libraries. David Bunn, an artist, took the old cards from the catalogs and wallpapered the two elevators. He even lined the elevator shafts with the cards so visitors can tell by the cards what subject is located on what floor.

(The other 12 million cards were recycled, Reagan said.)

*

It’s not only Los Angeles where change is coming fast and furious to public libraries. In fact, I was somehow heartened to learn that L.A., on the cutting edge of so much, is not leading the way in updating its libraries.

Across the country, libraries are going online, buying fast new computers and grappling with the best way to get rid of that due-date stamp that librarians--unbeknownst to me--dislike so much.

“It’s reflective of all the change we see in the world,” said George Needham, executive director of the Public Library Assn. in Chicago. “I cannot remember the last time I spoke to a bank teller.

“Maybe that rubber stamp is something that belongs to our childhood.”

Maybe. Needham said some libraries are using grocery-store price stickers to let people know when their books are due. Others still place a stamped card in the back of the book.

Needham says it’s become expensive and too labor-intensive to keep records manually. Besides, research shows that continued rubber stamping can lead to repetitive strike injury--pain in the wrists, hands and forearms mostly afflicting computer users (ha!) and grocery-store clerks.

Nonetheless, Needham said he had never heard of a city using cash-register-style receipts.

“I can see refrigerators all over Los Angeles with these receipts stuck all over them,” he said, laughing.

Well, maybe I should have tried that. The first time we didn’t have the stamps in our books, we were late to the tune of $1.60.

Maybe it will be a moneymaking venture for the city.

Whatever happens, there is one piece of information I can pass on that--at least this week--is still correct:

Cookbooks line the shelves at 641.5.