I placed a library hold for the first time yesterday. With this simple, comforting act, I have become a Library Person. And possibly Old, but I'm okay with this. Libraries are good and peaceful and necessary, and while Kindles are fabulous inventions, they will never match the simple, wondrous magic of prowling the stacks of a library and seeing embossed spines and call numbers and hearing the creak of a spine when you open a book. Or smelling the spice of the pages or wondering who left that receipt from 1990 on page 276. Or stopping in front of a title that caught your eye and realizing you've discovered a treasure of which you were oblivious until that moment. Gathering a stack and trooping to the front, proud of your finds and eager to begin the adventure. Only libraries offer you so much and ask nothing in return save a little love and a little time and the hope for a little magic. So viva Kindle and the technological revolution, but give me a library, with its whispers of stories untold and its memories of my grandfather's house, dust and dog and shag carpet and the exotic smell of old books.