What the heck is the USPS? A business? A govermental agency? A "very 'business-like' semi-governmental agency"?

About the U.S. Postal Service

This is from 11/7/2005, statement OLAPW President, Clint Burelson.

Postal Service Should Stop Plans to Transfer Mail Cancellation Operations From Olympia to Tacoma

The Olympia Local of the American Postal Workers Union is calling for the Postal Service to stop plans to transfer mail cancellation operations from Olympia to Tacoma. The main reasons to stop the proposal are: the loss of the Olympia Postmark, the reduction in service to the public, the lack of significant savings (if any), and the negative impact on employees.

More on the flip...

Plan to cut Olympia postmark advances

I'm looking through the USPS site to see if they have stated anywhere a customer service mandate.

Or just excessive power tripping? From BBC:

A disabled university professor has been ordered to pay more than £2,000 for changing her heavy wooden door to a an easy-to-use plastic one.

Alison Brading, 66, a pharmacology professor at Oxford University, said she might refuse to pay the fine and face jail rather than change the door.

She told the court she replaced the door to her 18th Century cottage in Thrupp, Oxfordshire, nine years ago. She said the old door often expanded and jammed, trapping her in the house.

Officials found out about her new door in 2001 and told her she had breached local conservation laws by not applying for planning permission to alter the appearance of her listed home

Many of the best lessons during our student years took place when we were not enrolled in school. Tuition was so inexpensive in the 1970s that we could quit school and work some low wage job for awhile and then re-enroll and coast for a bit. That all came to an end when Reagan and his party took control in 1981 and tuition doubled overnight. I had a taste of that bite during my final year in grad school, 1981-82. But, as usual, I digress.

At some point in 1976 I was out of school and working at yet another low-level minimum wage job. The great part about jobs like that was in the event the feeling of telling your boss to go to Hell crosses your mind, you can actually do it, and then find another job the next day. Which is basically what happened to me, except a monkey wrench got thrown into the deal.

I actually had a car for a few months that year. A 1962 Ford Ranchwagon, three on the tree gear shift and enough room in back to play basketball. So, being newly unemployed, I drove home to Hunter's Point. I was subleasing a one-room cabin that sat next to a mobile home for the princely sum of 25 bucks a month or something like that. My room-mates were two young women (both were TESC students) who lived in the trailer and I had use of the kitchen and bathroom. One of my roomies had a very protective boyfriend who liked to play with his pop-out stiletto whenever he talked to me. Fun.

Anyway, I drove home to find all my possessions (which could fill maybe 3 suitcases) piled up outside in the light drizzle. Why? "Remember that itching you have been complaining about the last few days?" the woman with the boyfriend asked, "Well, we have it too. The doctor told us you gave us scabies which really grosses me out."

Scabies, otherwise known as the "itch-mite," is an easily transmitted pest that burrows under your skin and itches so bad you can't sleep. I think I picked it up during one of my hitchhiking trips down to Southern California the previous month. Scabies are so contagious that if a carrier sat in a chair, and you sat in the same chair a minute after they left, you could get them too. I suspect Mr. Stiletto didn't understand that, and his suspicious mind had more to do with my eviction than the little mites.

An interlude in the Year From Hell:

So I'm waiting in line in the Seattle Greyhound station. In those starving student days I was lucky enough to get by without a car most of the time. By 1979 I had figured out I was mortal and decided maybe hitchhiking wasn't such a hot idea. So I'm waiting in line in the Seattle Greyhound station.

The guy ahead of me was a bit drunk and told me he was headed back to Walla Walla. He was on parole from the Big House, the Crowbar Hotel, the Joint. He seemed friendly enough.

In short order we were joined by another gentleman. He appeared to know the guy on parole. This new person was panting and his eyes were big. "The heat's on my back, man," and we could see beefy clean-cut law enforcement types on the periphery of our vision in all directions. Whatever crime this guy had committed sure drew a lot of attention. And soon they closed in to nab him.

Did I mention what I looked like at this time? No? I was wearing an old Army jacket and hadn't shaved in about a week. At Evergreen I didn't stand out, I mean, we were Grunge long before Grunge became Grunge. But in the real world it was a different story.

So when these law enforcement officers swoop in I had a vision go through my mind. They grab the guy and ask,

"Who are you?"
"I just robbed a bank."

Then they go to the parolee,

"Who are you?"
"I'm on parole from Maximum Security at Walla Walla and I'm drunk."

Then they come to me,

"Who are you?"
"I study 'Shakespeare and the Age of Elizabeth' at The Evergreen State College."

Then the officer in charge instructs the others, "OK, book all three of them."

That's how it felt in 1979, just being associated with TESC was enough to get me in trouble. But, as it turned out, they merely arrested their main prey and quickly left. Meanwhile, on the bus ride back to Olympia I learned new things from my new acquaintance like where the best prostitutes could be found in Tacoma, and how I could kill a man with one hand.

From the Olympian:

Jim Boyde, general manager of Westfield Capital mall for the past 61/2 years, has resigned.

“I had some time to reflect and decided I needed a challenge,