Last Wednesday morning, I overslept a little -- enough to make me late for my 11:15 class in Kern Building. No worries; it was a lecture. I slipped on some sweat pants, threw on a jacket and grabbed one of the subjects of my previous column, my iPod, on my way out the door. Though I was 15 minutes late, I snuck in quietly, unnoticed, and sat down in the back of the room.

The clock struck 12:05, class was over and I walked out the door to purchase a coffee. Suddenly, a terrible thought occurred to me. Where was my iPod? I tore apart my book bag, my jacket pockets ... nothing. I rushed back into the lecture hall. Empty. A wave of nausea rushed over me.

It was gone.

In the past couple of days, I've spent a good deal of time searching for my missing MP3 player, from reporting the theft to the police to seeking out every black iPod Nano being sold on eBay.

My friends shake their head sadly at what I admit is humorously exaggerated despair, but empathize. Almost everyone has had something precious lost or stolen from them; almost anyone can relate. You have a party -- CDs are missing. You leave a concert -- you can't find your purse. Even at the gym, you spot a girl leaving from the side door of the building in a jacket that looks so much like your own...

Then you realize you got jacked. You are disappointed, infuriated and suspicious of everyone around you. You piss and moan for a while, but eventually have to get on with your life, devoid of said stolen object.

Unless, that is to say, you're the one doing the stealing.

I'm talking to you, Aladdin -- the robber, the thief, the pickpocket -- who has become part of a culture of subtle social distrust that forces us all to lock up our bikes, show ID with our credit cards and use those impossibly hard-to-remember lockers in the gym.

Indeed, as beautiful, friendly and civically engaged our campus is, like any functioning society, there is still crime. Theft especially is an occurrence all too common at Penn State. From 2002 to 2004, 96 burglaries, 1,637 counts of larceny, 5 robberies and 12 motor vehicle thefts were reported, according to the Penn State University Police Web site.

Last year, a number of fraternities on campus were broken into. Anything and everything from laptops to Xboxes were taken. Recently, four friends were arrested for allegedly stealing from 100 to 150 unlocked cars, according to a Feb. 6 Daily Collegian article. There are reports of theft in the news daily. Rolling away an unchained bike is not exactly on par with Ocean's Eleven-type swindling, but it is criminal nevertheless.

Thousands and thousands of dollars worth of stuff gone MIA pales in comparison to a $200 iPod, but over time, the small damages add up.

When exactly was our sense of community and school pride sacrificed on the altar of digital toys and credit cards?

Do thieves brood over their pillages, delighting as much in their newfound "purchases" as in the lack of a receipt? Or do they ignore thoughts of the previous owners, people who lovingly downloaded each song on an iPod, bonded with friends over Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle DVDs, captured enough fraternity Kodak moments on their new camera phone to last a lifetime?

With Interfraternity Council/Panhellenic Dance Marathon approaching, we should be increasingly conscious of protecting, valuing and respecting our fellow human beings. I say we begin by respecting our fellow human being's stuff. It is really not that hard to leave that plump wallet in that lonely looking purse, that expensive-looking overhead projector in that classroom, that unlocked BMW alone.

And if you find someone's iPod, it's not that hard to turn it in to the lost and found at the HUB Information Desk.

I mean, at least the owner would appreciate it.