After receiving last week’s bad news, I desperately attempted to keep some semblance of normalcy in my life. For example, last Sunday I drove over to Berkeley to attend the city’s “How Berkeley Can You Be?” parade and festival. It sounded like it could be an afternoon of great fun, and I had expectations of displays of outrageousness from the citizenry there…reminiscent of the annual “out-there” behavior exhibited during the Eugene Celebration.

Now, perhaps it was my state-of-mind, but I was pretty disappointed. There were a smattering of laughs and “Berkeley-like” folk around (see the accompanying grandmother-for-peace photo), but my experience of the event was quite different from the all-out kind of effort that Eugene (for example) puts into its identity-defining celebrations. It seems to me that Eugene is more Berkeley-like than Berkeley is these days! Who woulda thunk?

My mood for this last week has been semi-dark. I seem to have been struggling with continuing issues of loss and change…or at least that’s the best explanation I have right now for the cloud I’m living under.

On one of my early-evening walks this week, I was trying to enjoy both the sunshine warming my face and the music coming from my iPod when, all of a sudden, I found both my hands clutching my chest as if I had pain there. But, it wasn’t really pain; actually, just momentarily, I was gasping for breath. I guess, maybe, I’d been forgetting to breathe. How weird.

But given my thoughts, not really too unusual. I had been dwelling on the loss of a friend to cancer; and the losses of jobs, attachments, familiar sights, and highly-significant people in Oregon: in essence, evidence of a total lack of control. While the changes I’ve made have also brought me meaningful gain, it’s the losses that have been my preoccupation. So much is gone. So much different.

This last week, I’ve been in a sleep-walk, a trance, moving in slow motion. As if this life I call mine is only some kind of surreal caricature of another’s.

Soundtrack Suggestion

While I was watching you did a slow dissolve…
Did I imagine they held us hypnotized
Did I imagine or do the walls have eyes…

Life in slow motion somehow it don’t feel real…

Snowflakes are falling I’ll catch them in my hands
Snowflakes are falling now you’re my long lost friend

(“Slow Motion” – David Gray)

One of my best friends in the Oregon University System (OUS) has passed on. I knew Martha Anne Dow from the time I joined the OUS Chancellor’s Office staff in 1995. At that point she was the Provost and Vice President for Academic Affairs at the Oregon Institute of Technology (OIT) in Klamath Falls. When the incumbent president retired in 1998, Martha Anne was the natural and logical choice to take over the OIT reigns.

I was a huge fan and supporter of hers, as I found her to be one of the most decent individuals I had ever encountered in a higher education leadership role. Similarly, I knew her to be a true-blue fan and supporter of mine. I don’t have an actual count of how many times she was contacted during the last three and half years of my job-search process, but it was several. At one point a prospective employer disclosed, after doing reference-check phone calls on me, “whatever you do, don’t take Martha Anne off your reference list!”

Martha Anne, I’ll miss you. You left us way too soon.

PORTLAND, September 29, 2007 – Oregon University System chancellor, George Pernsteiner, announced with sadness this evening the passing of Dr. Martha Anne Dow, president of the Oregon Institute of Technology, who died today after a six-month battle with breast cancer. President of OIT since 1998, Dow is widely recognized for her leadership in advancing the mission of Oregon Tech and her passion for expanding access to higher education for Oregonians.

Governor Ted Kulongoski said, “Dr. Dow’s dedication to raising the aspirations of Oregon students to attend college reflected her unwavering belief in every person’s ability to grow, learn, and give back to their communities. She will remain for us always a heroine of educational advancement and a true Oregon treasure.”

Henry Lorenzen, president of the State Board of Higher Education, said, “Martha Anne was not only a highly talented and innovative educator, she was also an incredibly kind, thoughtful and genuine friend and colleague for all of us who had the honor of working with her. Our hearts are breaking for her family, friends, and for ourselves. Martha Anne has left an indelible mark on OIT, Klamath Falls, the state, and on the thousands of students she has taught, mentored and guided to a college degree in Oregon.”

Martha Anne Dow became the fifth president of OIT in May 1998, after serving there for six years as Provost and Vice President for Academic Affairs. Enrollment at Oregon Tech grew by almost 1,000 students during her tenure, and programs in engineering, computer science, applied health fields and geothermal power grew to meet regional and state needs. Dr. Dow worked tirelessly during the 2007 legislative session and previous sessions to gain new programs and support services for students, and to expand programs to meet current and anticipated workforce needs. Earlier this month, OIT’s new Center for Health Professions was named after Dr. Dow at the request of the major donors to the Center, Dick and Nancy Wendt.

I have written previously about what the heck it is I think I’m doing here with this blog, proffering the opinion that a lot of this is simply for my own, much-needed therapy. And, just as importantly, I write because writing is what I do; being a writer is who I am. I write because it provides an outlet for thoughts and emotions I can’t conveniently put anyplace else. And this particular venue gives me a place to share, should anyone self-select into my online world.

Early on in my blogging days, as I was engaged in other self-reflection about these literary efforts, I explored the topic of blogger ethics, recognizing the potential for harming others with my words. You may recall that I clearly expressed the intent to avoid embarrassing, attacking, angering or hurting anyone of you out there. And although I have not specifically mentioned this, naturally my aim is to avoid harming myself as well.

Not that my efforts have met with everyone’s approval. There have been the occasional criticisms of my work, the most obvious and impactful of which was the feedback last spring, from a college president no less, that “ I might want to re-think my decision to discuss my job-search activities” on these pages. That unsolicited opinion of my writing really made me take stock. However, after a careful and deliberate examination of my intentions, as well as a thorough re-reading of the actual words I had published, I decided to discard that particular piece of advice and I re-published some posts I had temporarily taken down (while in a highly-reactive, semi-panicky mode).

Then, there’s the occasional bits of praise that come my way, namely the quite-recent observation that

There is a lot of humor in your blog. I hope you can see it. Is it not supposed to be funny? …Thanks for sharing all of your hopes and fears with the entire world … Your world view is so prickly (ala Mark Twain)…

Of course, any comparison of my writing with Mark Twain’s is really quite a stretch, but I appreciate this person’s comments nonetheless!

Finally, just this week, another person from my everyday world offered up some observations about this blog. She was clearly concerned that being so public about my life put me in harm’s way…in one way or another. After a long conversation about this, she subsequently wrote a clarifying email, stating quite unequivocally that, “ it’s the possible ramifications for you that I am concerned about.”

I found the clash of values between the two of us quite intriguing. She expressed a high need for privacy, even secrecy, in the normal living of life. Further, she articulated a distrust of others, fearing hidden agendas. I, on the other hand, expressed a strong preference for transparency and the need for emotional risk-taking.

In a short email back to her I said,

… my intention is: to not have hidden agendas; to live openly, honestly and authentically; to take risks; to live without fear. These are my values. Whatever consequences I pay for them, I shall pay…

Now, as I conclude this brief entry, I want to say that I recognize not everyone is going to have the same interpretation of my words. What one person takes as a totally depressing essay, another person might tell me, “Jim, that was hilarious!” (And, in fact, this has actually happened.)

In invite you to keep reading. Or not. It’s entirely up to you.

If my up-close-and-personal observations and disclosures turn out to be a bit much, I can only advise: caveat lector.

Let the reader beware.

A couple of months ago I wrote about the one “day off” I had during the whole change-your-life kinda summer that 2007 provided me. On that day (June 30), in Eugene, I wandered about Saturday Market and ended up at the stage area listening to a local musician sing the entire Beatles Abbey Road album from start to finish…while accompanying himself on the ukulele!

What a tremendous treat that was!

And, what a totally Eugene, at-home-like experience that turned out to be.

Given my subsequent move to a new and totally unfamiliar part of the world, I have been asking myself: when am I ever going to be able to replicate that kind of feeling again? Will I ever be “at home” again? And also: when will I ever hear live Beatles music again?!

Well, as it turns out, I didn’t have that long to wait. (At least for the answer to that last question…)

Last Sunday, the little hippie-dippie Marin County town of Fairfax held its second annual Town-Wide Picnic at the local ball field. Now, I didn’t really plan to attend. In fact, I was absolutely oblivious to the fact that this thing was happening at all until, on a whim, I decided to visit Fairfax that afternoon simply to check out a nearby place with a Eugene-like (read: “liberal” or “tie-dye”) kind of reputation.

As I was walking around, I noticed posters in a couple of windows advertising the event (that was supposed to be happening at that very moment) and, at first, all I could think of was “where’s the ball field?” Well, given that this is an extremely tiny place, it didn’t take long to find out. (I simply followed the foot traffic!) Of course, I was initially a little reluctant to join in the festivities, given that it’s a very small town and I’d be gate-crashing their party. But the thing that helped me overcome my hesitancy was the Beatles music coming from the stage. A group called “The Liddypudlians” was up there churning out some great stuff!

The band was 26 members strong…yes, I needed to count them! There were several (rotating) lead vocalists, lead and rhythm guitars, drums, a chorus -- as well as horn, string, and woodwind sections. This was an orchestra that reproduced Beatles songs quite faithfully -- meticulously consistent with any studio-produced Beatles-album track.

I sat on the lawn, soaked up the sun, and enjoyed three sets of live Beatles tunes for just over three hours. I loved this group!

For a little while there, I almost felt like I was home.

I sometimes wonder: what if?

What if I had been born with more imagination, talent, artistic ability or intellectual capacity than was granted to me? What if I’d grown up to have more wisdom than is mine?

What if I had more depth as a human being?

What if I hadn’t been born working-class in the Midwest but rather to wealth in mid-town Manhattan? Or to college professors in Berkeley?

What if I’d not been so slight in stature that I was typically the last kid picked for a team? What if I were tall and strong, with perfect teeth and an infectious, extraverted personality? What if I’d had charismatic good looks in this life?

What if I had been able to write the Great American Novel or been able to produce photographic art rivaling Ansel Adams? Or Annie Leibovitz?

What if I’d lived one of the great love stories? How would my life be different if I’d found my soulmate early in life and had a loving, devoted partner by my side through all my struggles?

What if I’d not had to cope with chronic pain for most of my life?

What would my life be like today if even one of these things had been different?

These are thoughts I have on occasion. Typically, I’ll go down this path when I’m feeling a little sorry for myself or things are just generally not going well. That’s not really the case at this moment, though, because what currently brings on such mental meanderings is that I’m wondering how it is that I ended up here. After 37 years an Oregonian, here I am, all of a sudden, a Californian.

I guess the most terrible thing that’s going on right now is that I’m missing “home.”

I was on the phone yesterday with a friend who was, herself, 19 years an Oregonian — and has just moved to Pennsylvania to take on a new job. At the other end of the line I heard her teenage daughter come into the room and ask who she was talking to, to which she replied, “my friend Jim, in California.”

Jim. In California.

How weird to hear those words.

How could this possibly be?

Earlier this year I was a finalist for a position that would have landed me in one of my favorite little college towns on the planet: Corvallis, Oregon. From the moment I discovered the announcement, I pictured myself there, living back in Corvallis: my home for a full twenty years (1970-90).

What if I’d gotten that job?

I guess in a parallel universe, I wowed them at the interview and ended up there. But in this version of reality, I experienced another outcome: needing to move on from the rejection and continue with the interviews. I subsequently traveled to places like Burlington, Vermont; Palm Desert, California; Vancouver, Washington; and Kentfield, California…ending up with the job offer that landed me in my current location.

So here I am: now a Bay Area Golden Stater…wondering what life has in store for me in this place…and having an ache in my heart for a land I call home.