The walls change, but my surroundings don't--friends above, below and beside. How humbled, I was, packing the contents of my empirical being into a blue van. Everything important enough to me to make the trip from New Hall 4, Woods 109, Woods 503 and Chateau fits above, below or beside a stained, probably torn, blue seat. It took two people less than fifteen minutes to empty my blue van, each carrying a box or stuffed animal above, below or beside their waist. To the powers that be, whether above, below or beside me, thanks. And should those powers happen to live with me--or if man is an end in himself--I shan't be blue.