A No-Doze Zone

Remember that bit of a crisis last year at the downtown Hartford public library, when assorted crazy or homeless people were using the place as a country club? The problem seems to be overcome. Rumor has it that the staff has been armed with cattle prods and anyone who doesn’t seem to know that libraries are for reading and stuff is given a painful reminder.

The Hartford problem came to mind late last year when the Washington, D.C., public libraries proposed a sleeping ban, not only at the library downtown, but also at all the branches. The chief librarian insists that everyone (meaning, of course, homeless and crazy people) is still welcome at the libraries, but they have to, well, you know, stay awake.

Too Much Comfort

The falling-asleep stuff tends to be interpreted, especially in urban settings, as homeless folks getting way too comfortable in public buildings that are sort of warm and safe and quiet, with clean bathrooms — but not intended to be homeless shelters. The bottom line is that a snoring row of homeless would discourage library patronage by button-down business types and suburban soccer moms and starving artists and other God-fearing people with actual library cards.

The proposal would establish temporary bans from the library for repeat offenders, which is to say, serial sleepers who ask the reference desk a question, but nod off before they get an answer.

The problem with the Washington plan is that, whether the proponents say so or not, the enforcement scheme reeks of discretion. Walk through the typical university library, and half the population is counting sheep rather than cramming for that fascinating French literature exam.

If they came to a public library in a place such as Hartford or Washington, D.C., would they be tossed out with directions to the nearest homeless shelter?

Imagine the impact of implementing such a policy in Hartford, where many library patrons are tricked into reading the poetry of the late Wallace Stevens, a bond attorney/executive type at the old Hartford Fire Insurance and Other Stuff Before We Began Selling Financial Services Corp. Stevens is famous, despite the fact that his poems don’t rhyme or seem to be about anything. His poetry puts many people to sleep. Oops.

Or imagine that you are a neurotic, Washington political operative consumed by Caroline Kennedy’s campaign to replace Hillary Clinton in the U.S. Senate. You go to a D.C. library to read Caroline’s compelling interviews. You are soon asleep, bordering on a sleep misdemeanor.

You see the problem? If you go to the Hartford library and you don’t smell so good and you talk real loud and you’re eating chicken wings and flirting with suburban matrons, the library can toss you with reasonable confidence.

Sleep Misdemeanor

But if you nod off, the library staff must engage in selective prosecution, determining whether your sleep has been aided by Early Times bourbon or the Financial Times newspaper.

Discretion is the key. It was late last month when a strange fellow who had been living in a terminal of Mexico City’s international airport for months suddenly jumped in a cab and disappeared. Beyond the mystery, note the discretion. He was never arrested, not questioned about his constant presence at the airport. He was just, well, there.

Here’s a tip: If you’re in a local library, reading a really interesting story in the Hartford Business Journal and your eyes start to feel very heavy, turn quickly to the Cohen column for stimulation and to save yourself the indignity of being sent back to the streets from which you came.

Laurence D. Cohen is a freelance writer.