14 August 2013
An hour before my talk began, I realized I had forgotten my shoes at home. Do Crocs count as informal business attire? I started marching between different meeting rooms, staring at people's feet, especially those of people I knew. When I saw a likely pair, I asked, "What size are your feet?" People are used to strange questions at conferences, but this was a new one. Eventually, I located a usable pair that I could borrow in exchange for co-authorship on my next paper. With the lectern in front of me, no one could see my feet anyway, but I was able to deliver the seminar with confidence. Only afterwards did I wonder about the possibility of catching athletes' foot.
The press was present in force at the closing ceremonies, searching for catchy phrases to scatter in their reviews, so that when the symposia are published, they might be quoted on the covers. “A Shocking Minute By Minute Account of the Most Significant Scientific Conference of All Time.” “The Stunning Seminar that Silenced the Critics.” By an overwhelming vote, it was agreed that the next congress should be held at Port Penguin, the idyllic site of the International Antarctic Scientific Observatory. Only the British delegation was against the proposal, because they thought it would be difficult to find warm beer.
Afterwards: Drinks, laughter, songs, hugs until the next time.
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