Faith in an acid-free box

One of the essays in Sarah Vowell’s book The Partly Cloudy Patriot is an open letter to Bill Clinton, in which she gives him advice on how to craft his presidential library. It starts:

Mr. President, I’m tired. Who wouldn’t be after a decade of sticking up for you? I am looking forward to your presidential library in Little Rock because I am worn-out from defending you. I would like to donate what’s left of my faith to some building in Arkansas, where it can be archived in an acid-free box, so I can make a little extra room in my heart and fill it up with trying not to hate your successor. But before relinquishing my duties as your crabby little cheerleader, I scoped out four presidential libraries to help you figure out how to do the job right. Not that you asked me. I just don’t want you to mess this up.

Heh. This reminds me that I have visited two of the presidential libraries that Vowell covers in her letter. In July 2002, while in Salina, Kan., for Rebecca and Jeff’s wedding, a bunch of us took a side trip to the Eisenhower library in Abilene; and in October 2003, I visited Sonal in Somerville, Mass., and we checked out the Kennedy library in Boston. Both were actually pretty interesting, though as you might expect, I was more impressed with the latter: even the stark structure itself, designed by I. M. Pei, is something to behold. I have mementos from both–the gift shop is a mandatory stop at any museum–including an “I Like Ike” magnet and a rather nice Kennedy Library pen, which I reserve for signing treaties. I mean, checks. (It makes me feel important.) I don’t really intend for the library circuit to become a thing, but there’s some nerdy glee in wondering, which one will I hit up next? Preferably one in the vicinity of a popular vacation destination. Oh, great: Reagan?