It seems I have rather dropped my blogging habit during this latest computer downtime. And I’ve missed it: missed this . Writing is about my only form of therapy these days, and with all that’s going on, some therapy is sure in order!

So, now that the computer is nearly completely-restored (operating better than ever, really), I’m inclined to sit down here and actually use it, not just maintain it.

Preparations continue for my move to Roseburg as I start the position of Division Director for Math, Science & Liberal Arts at Umpqua Community College (UCC) on July 31st. I have accepted yet another interim (temporary gig) position as a college administrator, hoping that sometime, someplace, I will find an actual, new professional “home.” I told the faculty members in my new division at UCC that, among many things, I was seeking “stability” – a goal they seemed to resonate with. And, now that I’ve put my MHCC days behind me, I’m feeling really good about getting on with this.

Well, except for all the work that’s involved in changing my life again!

But, changing it I am. I’ve got professional movers to assist with the real back-breaking aspects of this all, including doing some of the packing. I’m leaving the bookcases full, for example, ready for them to box up and tote away.

And, I’ve started packing some of the more personal and delicate items myself. I’ve assembled all my camera equipment; some prints, negatives, and slides; and my complete set of 1959 Topps baseball cards. These are some of the valuable artifacts of my life that will travel with me in the car. Along with the computer CPU, I suppose.

I pay by the pound to have all this stuff carted from one place to another, so, in recent days, I’ve been working on doing some recycling. (Even after only two years in Portland , there are things I just have to get rid of rather than move!) I’ve arranged for the landlords here to keep my washer & dryer (in exchange for leaving the place without cleaning it; my new place already has a washer & dryer); I recycled an old computer CPU and printer at Free Geek; I recycled my dead AA photo batteries on campus; I took some old clothes to the Salvation Army; I delivered a dead stereo, VCR and computer speakers to City Recycle; I left my fireplace tools out on the curb with a sign that said “Free;” and I took four boxes of books to Powell’s last Friday

Now, the Powell’s thing is a little bit of a story. This all happened at the branch on SE Hawthorne , not the big, world-famous location on Burnside.

Although I’m a huge fan of Powell’s (well, all book stores, truth be told), I had never taken books back to sell before, so I wasn’t familiar with “the drill.” Foolishly, I now realize, I was thinking that I could handily dispose of four boxes of heavy, old, and unwanted books this way.

Well, that was not to be. The young woman behind the counter instructed me to stack up, right there on the counter by the register, all the books I had carted in; she would then sort through them to see if there was anything that she could offer anything for. There were a lot of books, but it took her only about 15 or 20 minutes to sort through them all and assess that there were a mere 8 books that she would take off my hands. She offered me $30 in store credit or $25 in cash. (I took the cash, as I’m leaving town soon.)

I didn’t inventory the books she bought, but I recognized some science fiction novels by Orson Scott Card as ones she picked out. Anyway, I carted IN four boxes of books, and I carted OUT four boxes of books.

I carried the boxes out one at a time, even though I was parked right in front. (Yes, right in front; I couldn’t believe my luck when I had driven up to find such a sweet parking spot!) I had the back of the car open, ready to receive the box on my second trip out, when I noticed a Portland (“the city that works”) police car, with its flashing lights on, right behind my vehicle. He was writing. After I plopped the box in the car, he rolled down his passenger side window, called out to me and asked me what I was doing…and I said, “Who me? You’re talking to me?”

He said “Yeah. You’re in a truck-loading zone. It’s reserved for loading and unloading by commercial vehicles only during these hours.” As he pointed to the little sign on the post right by my car that said exactly that.

He handed me the ticket, and when I asked, he mentioned that it was a $40 fine. I took the ticket from him and the color must have drained from my face as I looked up at the sign right by my car.

I started reading the ticket, meditating on the fact that this little recycling effort, instead of netting me $25 was actually going to cost me $15.

I looked up at the sign one more time. And then probably again. I said to him, “My god, you’re entirely right. I was in a rush, didn’t see that sign, and I am totally guilty. I’m really sorry. This is what I get when I don’t pay attention, I guess.”

He looked at me, and seemed sort of puzzled and speechless for a moment. Who knows what he was thinking, but he finally put out his hand and asked for the ticket back. I didn’t hesitate, of course. He said, “I can tell that this was not intentional on your part. How about if we say that you’re just never going to do this again?”

I said, “You got it.”

We shook hands, and he told me to have a nice day.

The rest of the day turned out just fine, actually…