Partying like a rockstar pales to being a librarian

Barbara Lipscomb

My mom used to say that there were two types of people in the world, those that liked cats and those that don't. I too have always felt that there are two types of people, those that like cats and those that ride them like a beast. I belong to the latter group, and although it's been 30 years I bet Peter Criss (The Cat from KISS) still has the scars on his back and bottom to show from our time together after their Minneapolis show in 1978.

I don't want to get into all the sordid details here, but like the woman they wrote Plaster Caster about, I have intimate knowledge and experience with the entire band of KISS, except Paul. I can't remember ever seeing Paul with a woman. I could have turned him. I probably still could.

Being a "groupie" isn't all that it seems. Sure there is a lot of alcohol, good drugs, endless sex without commitment and the constant fear of contracting a disease, but I never felt fulfilled until I began helping people find books.

I was meant to be a librarian. I know my way around the Dewey Decimal System, Library of Congress System, or Superintendent of Documents Classification System like I know my way around the hairy shaft of every member of Paul Revere and the Raiders or the original lineup of Sha Na Na. Whether it be books or carnal knowledge, nobody could get you where you need to be faster than I can. If you play the guitar, stop by sometime and let me show you our microfiche collection.