Photo by Shirley McShane Sillars

This is the first thing that happened when I stepped into the Emory for the Ferndale Library’s book party: The server asked what I wanted to drink.

What does one drink at a book club party? Having never been to one, I opted for a nice local brew.

Here is the second thing that happened at the library book party: The server carded me.

It’s not that I look underage. Those days are long gone. She wanted to see my library card.

An ordinary library card — not a platinum credit card or an exclusive membership pass — gave me entree to this event that featured the first drink free, appetizers, and participation in a book discussion.

Here is why I love my hometown: We have book club parties in local bars. I’m not a big drinker. I am, however,  easily intoxicated by good books.

After I tucked my library card into my wallet, I grabbed the frothy glass of amber liquid, my tattered copy of “Middlesex” by Jeffrey Eugenides, and slipped into an open spot at the reserved tables at this popular bar/restaurant.

Placards on each table offered trivia questions and discussion points as a way to spark conversation about Detroit-native Eugenides’ Pulitzer Prize winning novel. If you have not read this sweeping epic, I won’t spoil the plot points. How about a teaser?  It is a mix of a Greek-American family’s history, Detroit’s 20th century rise and fall, and the painful coming of age of the gender-challenged protagonist.

Why have a book club meet in a bar? Organizers say the corner bar is the classic community meeting place; it’s the natural stopping point between work and home. It’s a place where we share information, vent our frustrations, and hatch relationships and deals.

Why a book party instead of a book club? The Ferndale Library wrote for and received grant money to create buzz about The National Endowment for the Arts’ Big Read in March 2010. Library staffers say they wanted to do something fun and different and attract a wider audience. They were surprised and pleased by the turnout of about 25 people.

While discussion of the plot, the character development, and the author’s literary devices served as an ice-breaker, conversations meandered away from the book. This is natural. The organizers are OK with it. The point isn’t to labor over a book all evening. It’s to get folks interested in books, in libraries, sharing ideas, and participating in a wider community.

I am fortunate to live in a progressive community with creative thinkers who take a venerable institution and its resources and give it a modern twist.

Speaking of books and creative thinkers, at the last annual street fair, I discovered two young creative types busy selling  old books reconstructed into journals, jewelry, buttons, badges and other fun gift ideas.

What do you know? They are my mother’s books.