In school we all learned the Dewey Decimal System, the numeric system used for classifying library books.

When I was growing up, I used it to find those reference books for reports, or in the fiction section I could find a book to read during those warm summer afternoons spent in the hammock on the back patio. The library was a quiet place and if you forgot and spoke out loud, someone was sure to shush you.

And I seem to remember all libraries, even those at school, were made with dark wood, long tables, and high stacks of books with a ladder that would slide along the row for ease of use on those highest shelves. The books were all hardcover and kept precisely in order and lined up, no one book sticking out beyond the next. It seemed to be a special, hallowed hall and a little mysterious.

Now things are different and I think it’s for the better. Today’s libraries are wonderful light-filled rooms with people chatting over a book, discussing its merits, or just wandering around looking for a special author.

Children are sitting on the rug or at low tables and chairs in their section, laughing and looking at books, reading out loud about what the frog said and the sound the dog makes. Librarians are busy showing a student the place to find a reference book, and computers are set up for Internet use by the patrons. And the smell of dust is gone. It’s all so wonderful.

Beauty salons also have changed. They used to smell bad (I think it was a rule of being successful). It was the harsh chemicals they used to make hair conform to the latest styles. They washed your hair, then applied the liquid curl enforcer, then rolled it up in these metal curlers.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was being attached to the ‘cooker’ machine. It looked like a hair dryer with a large dome, but it had wires hanging down that hooked onto the metal curlers in your hair. You sat attached to this machine for what seemed like hours but in reality was only about 30 minutes.

Then you were unattached, unrolled, rinsed with neutralizer to “stop the curling action.” Your hair was wound around bigger rollers and you sat under another contraption that dried your hair.

Finally, it was combed, teased and sprayed into a plastic hairdo for the world to adore. And all the while the beauticians talked amongst themselves. The patron was seldom part of the conversation (at least little girls weren’t).

Now however, the smell of a hair salon (not a beauty shop any more) is more toward flowers or more exotic perfumes. No torture machine to be hooked up to, no teasing of the locks and no more plastic hair-dos; unless, of course, that’s the style that makes you happy. And everyone talks to everyone else.

Topics of discussion range from the latest styles, the antics of a former boyfriend, the latest diet phenom of just eating red foods or where someone is going on their next trip.

Well, what brought on this nostalgia was a little girl. She asked me if they had libraries when I was a little girl. I assured her there was and was prepared to tell her all about them but, after a few minutes she wanted to know if I went to a beauty shop when I was a little girl.

I told her ‘yes’ and she said, “Do you go to one now?”

I said yes I do.

She looked at me and said, “Can’t they make your hair look better than that?”

So much for nostalgia and maybe I’ll ask them (at the beauty salon) to make me look better. Hope it works.

And don’t forget my writing workshops starts up again this month. If you have an idea for a story and need help getting started or if you want to start writing your memoirs, send me an email and I’ll fill you in on the details.

Donna Lee Anderson is a Hansville writer, speaker and teacher. She can be reached at welltoldtales@aol.com.