My Life and Thoughts

This story begins last Friday, when I went to the Stanford library to check out some books about the Musin-Pushkin family.  (I think I might write a novel about someone who is obsessed with the Musin-Pushkins.)  And let me tell you, it took a long time to round up all those books.  My webmaster can confirm this since he was waiting for me outside, drinking espressos and getting really bored. 

Then when I finally got to the check-out desk, I got stuck behind a crazy old lady in a bright red Chanel suit and matching lipstick, who not only checked out like a million books but also prolonged the transaction with a 10-minute commentary about how she will only read books whose call numbers start with PR, because they “come from the Commonwealth.”  “Forbearance,” I counseled myself: “Someday you, too, may be a crazy old lady who is obsessed with call numbers.”

Imagine my feelings when I finally got to the counter, and was told that my borrowing privileges had expired! 

“That can’t be,” I said, “because the computer says my library account is in good standing, and I have 8 books checked out until June 2009.”  Well, it turns out, I checked out those 8 books before the expiration of my spring teaching appointment, so they are good for a year… but I can’t check out any new books until the beginning of my fall teaching appointment. 

“Maybe we could work out a trade?” I suggested hopefully.

The librarian stared at me.  “I don’t think so,” she said.

She added that she could reactivate my account before the fall quarter, if I got a written request from my department.  I went to a computer station, opened the last email I had received from the department administrator, copied her phone number, and went outside to call her on my cell.  Unfortunately (for me, not her), this department administrator was on vacation. 

I began to feel really despondent.  My webmaster offered to buy me a cookie, and even that didn’t help.  Just then, the very-soon-to-be Dr. Wilkinson turned up, and not only instructed me in the basics of cat care, but also checked out the Musin-Pushkin books for me!  This was really nice of her.  What a happy ending, I thought. 

But… it wasn’t the ending at all!  A couple of days later, when I went to email the department administrator, I realized that, totally unbeknownst to myself, I had already sent her the following cryptic communication:

Iiik, a Gremlin in my Green Library computer I left open

A smile,
Philippe

It was embarrassing, because this particular administrator is so super-professional and competent, whereas I keep losing extension cords and forgetting the code of the photocopier and things—really, all that was lacking was for me to start emailing her about Gremlins during her vacation.  So I wrote to her to apologize, and explain that it was Philippe not me, and her response was so brilliant:  

No problem about the weird email… I was confused, but figured if it was important, you’d get back in touch.

This is just the kind of attitude I aspire to have, but instead I am always running around like, “Gremlin? Gremlin? What Gremlin?,” and then I start Googling “gremlin.” 

I’m not making this up, I really did Google “gremlin,” and am thus in a position to share with you the Gremlin’s folkloric history, which originates in the British RAF units during WWII.  According to the OED, the term was “probably formed by analogy with GOBLIN”—but in “The Gremlin Question” (Royal Air Force Journal 13 (18 April,1942)), RAF airman Hubert Griffiths writes that he first heard about the Gremlins while flying over Northern Russia, which surely suggests a derivation from… KREMLIN.  (Interestingly, Gremlin experts are known as “Gremlinologists.”)  Anyway, because I enjoyed Griffiths’s piece so much, I will quote from it here at some length:

A correspondent recently wrote to the Editor of the Journal: “Gremlins, the mischief-makers of the air… are believed to have originated in the Middle East where, long before the war, they made themselves something of a pest to many pilots, especially those of flying boats. They were reported on wingtips, on floats, on propellers, and in the aircraft. One particularly virulent species of Gremlin, apparently living in the clouds, had a habit of entering aircraft in bad visibility. When the pilot had been flying for some time in cloud, without being able to catch a glimpse of the ground, the Gremlin would skip on to his shoulder and whisper in his ear: ‘You silly fathead—you’re upside down!’ Of course the pilot wasn’t, but it unnerved him and made him jumpy.”

… From Gibraltar, pilots of [a] Coastal Command squadron send the following report: “It is believed that the Gremlin found in the neighbourhood of the Rock is, generally speaking, of the hairy-footed variety with extremely large, rudimentary ears fastened to the head (in the case of the male) by a peculiar scaffolding of gristle about eight feet long. The abdomen is pierced with triangular holes through which the wind whistles when in flight.”

The report adds that it is very important to ensure that no one enters an aircraft in a Gremlined condition, i.e., he must not be seeing Gremlins before he is airborne.

The most recent evidence, gathered in the last few weeks, comes from a small and hard-working body of eminent Fife Gremlinologists [my favorite part--EB].  ”In our opinion,” they write, “the creatures observed in the Gibraltar area can scarcely be called true Gremlins. They are probably to be regarded as belonging to a distantly related species peculiar to the warmer conditions obtaining in the Mediterranean zone.”

Some, but not all Gremlins, possess the faculty of sitting motionless on the wings of an aircraft until it is close to the British coast. They then slide down the wireless directional beam, reach the aerodrome ahead of the aircraft, and jerk the runway from under its wheels, the pilot being unable to tell whether he is on his course or his elbow.

It has come to our notice that Gremlins are in the habit of creeping in beside air-gunners in a confiding and ingratiating manner which the simple-minded air-gunner finds hard to resist. Air-gunners have even been known to invite Gremlins into the turret for “the sake of extra warmth.”  Air-gunners—is it worth it?

No sooner does the pilot adjust his elevators to counter the increased load in the tail than the cunning Gremlins rush forward into the nose of the aircraft with the obvious intention of causing it to dive into the sea. Gremlins have also been known to incite seagulls to attack aircraft…. All aircrews are advised to keep a sharp look-out for seagulls suspected of harbouring Gremlins. The attitude of Gremlins has recently changed from hostile neutral to hostile non-participant, verging at times to one of hostile-non-belligerency. The moment is approaching when the Gremlins should ask themselves—Are they for us or against us?  Or what?

Pertinent questions, eh Philippe?

William Shatner and a Gremlin in “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet”

Tags: academic life, airplanes, bureaucracy, clothes, cookies, doctors, libraries, Pushkin, Russia, Stanford

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 14th, 2008 at 6:09 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.