Go Figure


At 7p.m. I did rounds of the whole building. The silence of the walls was getting to me so I figured faces and warm bodies would help. Thank God that there is three whole people left to provide that service to me, even though I am suppose to provide service to them. Go figure.

Go figure, with budget cuts and national deficit and New York State raising SUNY tuition and God knows what else. Go figure that with all that we can still have hours to better serve the population, meaning three people I counted, that need this library to run.

After finishing my round I quickly grabbed some stale pretzels from the faculty lounge and a vitamin water for sustenance before I raced back to my perched post. Leaving such this post unattended for too long could be fatal to the patrons’ needs.

Within less than five minutes my lucky fourth warm body walked in the door. His young face lookd lucky too; disheveled from blond hair to Salvo sneakers, worn sleep bag on his back, and xeroxes of important documents in Ziploc with a broken seal. The remaining proof lies with his worn copied license which says California but his worn thumbs say no where.

Here for now gone tomorrow.

“How’d you make it cross country?” I asked.

“Used my thumb a little; hoofed it a little,” he said.

The smile on his face says simple he is proud of his work, and I smiled back proud of it too.

You have to be smart to cross the country with just the contents of a backpack. He could have been a model or a lawyer making big money out in the world. Instead he had a backpack, sleeping bag, water bottle and a Ziploc full of xeroxes.

He learned to live without anything, and maybe we should too. Deficits, layoffs, and hiring freezes are too much. Jobs are important but maybe we too need to learn how to survive. Our excess is overpowering our necessity to the point that we don’t know what need even means.

Christopher McCandless searched for the meaning of the essentials, truth and happiness. After graduating at 22-years-old, he burned his money and identification,and huffed it. From his graduation in May 1990 to his death in April 1992 Chris sought that truth out in the wild. The soil was his bed and the maps were his only bearings.

It was drastic, but it he made sure that he only carried his essentials as he searched for truth and happiness.

Maybe that’s all we need. Maybe that’s all I need at I sat in the chilled place watching the clock now read 8:30 p.m. Time to start closing up shop. A shop that I wonder should still me open, as lucky number four just walked out.

Go figure.

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