Tag: reading

Learning to ‘give a hoot’

“I must say I find television very educational. The minute somebody turns it on, I go into the library and read a good book.”
— Groucho Marx, (1890–1977) American comedian, actor, writer and avid reader; author of several books despite quitting school at 12 to support his family.

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I read a lot of books. Magazines and newspapers, too. I even read owner’s manuals. At least I used to.

A friend was watching me investigate the cargo area of his hatchback recently to replace a backup light bulb when he spotted a small switch.

“What’s that for?”

“Looks like a light switch,” I said. I pushed it and a small light came on.

“Yep, that’s what it is. I never knew that was back here. How’d you know that,” he asked?

“Just a hunch,” I laughed. “Your owner’s manual will explain everything. I read the owner’s manual with every new car just to become better acquainted with it before driving it.

“Sad part of that is,” I continued, “owners’ manuals have become the latest victim of the shifting paradigms in reading. Manufacturers abandoning printed copies for online alternatives.”

Reading anything is best enjoyed, “in my book,” with the mental and tactile grounding sensations of feeling the book. Measuring my progress by turning the pages.

I love libraries, but some of us miss things progress has pushed aside. Massive wooden cabinets housing Dewey Decimal System cards. Sacred institutions of silence. Where a twenty-pound volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica contained the answer to our every question. Where many of us garnered all the knowledge we needed to run the world using research tools too soon replaced with touch-screen kiosks and “asking the Google.”

Libraries today feel, to me, less like halls of wisdom and more like Silicon Valley startups. Where we once left the library carrying arm loads of books and notes but depart today with everything we need on our phone.

Aging in the digital age isn’t always an overnight process. Much of what we learned scant years ago is regarded today, as my grandmother used to say, “not worth a hoot in a hailstorm.” I never knew what she meant by that, but it wasn’t good. She usually uttered it to express her lack of appreciation for something.

To me, a hoot was always a noise an owl made, but I never heard one in a hailstorm. Or a library. Until last week when it appears that was sort of what really happened at the library in Kilgore, Texas, with the return of a wooden owl stolen from there more than half a century ago.

I lived at the Leigh Apartments across the street from the Kilgore Public Library while attending Kilgore College, long before asking the Google was ever a thing. Many hours I spent there because frequenting that storehouse of wisdom was more accessible and less crowded than going to the KJC library on campus.

According to the recent owl story, a Kilgore family felt compelled to right a 50-year-old wrong by returning the long-gone owl to the library that was mounted on the roof of the building when it was constructed in 1939. No one quoted in the news item by Jamey Boyum at KLTV in Tyler could say exactly why an owl was chosen to adorn the library building, but speculation was that the wise old owl symbolized the wisdom found within the library’s walls.

The owl disappeared in 1975, the story continued, surfacing just recently when Library Director Stacey Cole was contacted by someone saying that a family member who had taken the owl years ago requested before they passed away that it be returned to the library.

Cole was also quoted as saying that the historic figure would from now on be displayed inside, adding with a smile that, “… there would be no late fee charged on the owl’s return.”

I must confess now, that I found that story … on a computer screen. So, yes, I’m working on the transition.

In the meantime, just consider me a “printed paper” soul learning to give a hoot about adapting to a society where the world’s knowledge and news reports follow us around in our pockets.

—Leon Aldridge

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Leon Aldridge is a veteran editor, publisher, and communications professional, currently enjoying semi-retirement while awaiting his next challenge. His columns appear in: The Center Light and Champion, The Mount Pleasant Tribune, the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, the Alpine Avalanche, the Fort Stockton Pioneer, the Elgin Courier, The Monitor in Naples, and Motor Sports Magazine.

© Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2026. Feel free to use excerpts with full and clear credit given to Leon Aldridge and ‘A Story Worth Telling.’

Moving a little bit of paradise

“I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library.”

— Jorge Luis Borges (1899-?) Argentinian writer, poet, essayist, and translator

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Moving a home library from one end of the house to the other is not exactly what I would call paradise. Ask me how I know that.

Every load hauled down the hall last week met with many diversions. Pauses to peruse this book, that book, and three more I was astonished to discover again.

Like the one titled “Billy Whiskers.” A small, fragile book held together by a brown paper cover, the likes of which we folded and wrapped around textbooks eons ago. Tears and missing corners surround a Red Goose Shoes logo advertising “W.L. Garrett & Son, Pittsburg, Texas, Phone 216. Where the price is the thing.”

The cover also bears my father’s name, printed in pencil.

The 160-page illustrated children’s story of a goat and his escapades displays a publishing date of 1902 by the Saalfield Publishing Company. Just one of several among my father’s childhood books.

Mom was an avid reader, therefore I come by my book fetish honestly. I don’t recall catching Dad reading anything not related to one of his hobbies, like coin collecting. Evidence remains, however, that Dad was exposed to books as a child. Because my grandmother kept them all before passing them on to me.

My love for books is more than the immersive experience of simple reading. More than the gateway to knowledge, understanding, and escape that books offer. Even more than the excitement of living a thousand lives lost among the pages.

Real books are my passion. Quiet moments in the comfort of holding a piece of the past. Turning physical pages. Admiring the aroma of the paper.

Which is why library closings or their downsizing into primarily digital download centers in recent years, has been sad to see.

Hope perseveres, however. Recent research reveals several strong positive correlations between hard-copy books and improved learning outcomes. Things like increased comprehension, retention, and deep processing. Data pointing to print materials generally surpassing digital screens for focused, long-term learning. Sometimes, six to eight times better.

Regardless of how one reads, however, consider the seldom mentioned legacy of books. How they’ve impacted our culture, our philosophies, and our vocabulary.

How many times have you heard someone say, “book learning, book worm, book of life, book of love, or the Good Book?”

My grandmother, whose book learning ended after the seventh grade, used to say, “Can’t judge a book by its cover!” Then, on other occasions, “His life is like an open book,” or, “You read him like a book.”

I’m often quick to jokingly say, “You could write a book about that” indicating one’s display of knowledge on a particular topic.

Then there’s “Do it by the book, hit the books,” and “that’s one for the books.”

My books, my home library, was launched while hitting the books in college. But for the first time, I’m just now cataloging them using a neat online tool aptly named “LibraryThing.” I recommend it as it meets my two main criteria: free and easy to use.

When finished (cataloging, not accumulating), it’s looking like the final tally could pass a little more than a thousand volumes of history and biographies, lots of journalism and writing, business and marketing, Biblical reference and faith. Then there’s automotive, aviation, music, photography,. Fiction, poetry and other assorted categories. To name a few.

More is fun, but collections of just 20–80 books in the home have been recognized for boosting literacy and long-term educational outcomes. Helping children not only perform well in school but also foster a love for reading and learning.

In one case cited, Justin Minkel, 2007 Arkansas Teacher of the Year and 2011 National Board-certified elementary teacher in northwest Arkansas, wrote about making sure each of his students received 40 books to take home. Minkel found that home libraries not only heightened academic success but “also had a tremendous impact on each child’s love of reading …(igniting) that same love of books in their parents, siblings, cousins, and friends.”

I remember one time when my daughter, Robin, was “ignited” by our home library. It was some years ago when my children, Robin and son, Lee, were pitching in to pack for our move to the Hill Country.

Lugging another box of books through the house, she asked, “Dad, why can’t you collect something like stamps or butterflies?”

“Look at it this way,” I suggested. “You’re helping move a little bit of paradise.”

—Leon Aldridge

(Photo at top of the page: A portion of one wall in my home library. Not pictured: the rest of this wall and the other walls in my library, a collection of more than 100 cookbooks in the kitchen, and the night stands in my bedroom built like small bookcases.)

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Aldridge columns are featured in these publications: The Center Light and Champion, The Mount Pleasant Tribune, the Rosenberg Fort Bend Herald, the Taylor Press, the Alpine Avalanche,  the Fort Stockton Pioneer, the Elgin Courier, The Monitor in Naples, and Motor Sports Magazine. © Leon Aldridge and A Story Worth Telling 2026. Excerpts and links may be used, provided full and clear credit is given to Leon Aldridge and ‘A Story Worth Telling’ with appropriate and specific directions to the original content.