It turns out Al Wallace got my old space at Kitsap. It's a little hovel in what we call "The Outback," the octagon furthest from the administrative offices, an easy place to hide if you're really quiet. It?s triangular in shape and somewhat awkward, but that?s what you get when an architect knits together a bunch of 5,000-square-foot octagons in a public monument and does not consider function and practicality as appropriate subjects for discourse. In cases like that, little things such as electrical outlets tend to get overlooked. Hence the extension cords; hence the fire department; hence the fines.