Diogenes at San Hemlock, 6 of 6: A Farewell to Hemlock

           A Farewell to Hemlock

 

           I, Diogenes, have at last been shooed away from the College of San Hemlock. I got an email saying:

 

        “Hello.

        We hope this note finds you in good health and that you may enjoy a long future of further retirement happiness.

        I am writing this email to ask you to come to CSH to clear out your office space in Bldg 13, room 23. The office has been assigned to someone else, so you need to pick up your belongings ASAP but no later than the second Thursday from now. All remaining items will be discarded the next day.

        Please return your district keys and ID badge to me.

        Alma”

 

My first thought was; my badge? I don’t need no stinkin’ badge. My next thought was, how corporate of them. Why is this a surprise?

I had never mentioned retirement to them; this is how they told me. But though it seemed sudden to come upon, being retired was gradual in retrospect. I hadn’t worked summer semesters for them in years; the last time I taught there was last spring; I blew off fall and spring when they didn’t hire me; I had already known that I wouldn’t get any work from them in the coming fall.

Also, they had mailed me a very nice clock and some fancy certificates. So, I should have known. San Hemlock and I had been drifting apart awhile – or in other words, they had long been easing me out, and now they’re done.

I figured, if they are going to be corporate to me, then I’ll be corporate to them. So I drove to San Hemlock, visited my office, and raided it clean of any sign of me. I didn’t have much there aside from mathematical fractals on the wall, some office supplies, and some textbooks. I also retrieved two rolls of aluminum foil; the ones I had used for solar blast shielding. After leaving behind emptiness and trash, I headed to the copying room.

In that room, I raided the supply cabinets. I scooped out a handful of dry-erase markers. Then I met a former student, who recognized me. I apologized that I can rarely recognize anyone, a failing of mine; then I gave him some of my fractals.

I deposited the loot in my car, then drove it to park nearer to my dean’s office. I brought in my keys and my parking permit. Alma accepted these tokens graciously. She listened to me with sympathy and gave me contact information to San Hemlock’s pension officer. Then I got up and left.

That was it! I’ll miss the beautiful campus, and the view from the cafeteria, and the people and the work and the pay, but not the commute, nor the mismanagement.

Looking back, I am surprised by how warm the people were, and how cold the system was.