spynotes ::
  March 02, 2007
Conference blogging 2: Get in solid walls with the know-it-alls

Staying in a fancy hotel by myself always makes me feel like I�m playing dress-up. I woke up this morning at 7:30. This might not seem remarkable, particularly given that it was 6:30 in my usual part of the world. But it meant I got eight and a half hours of uninterrupted sleep. I have no idea when was the last time that happened. Probably over a year. Possibly over six years.

I did my morning yoga routine, also uninterrupted, and took a very long hot shower under a rain showerhead that was heavenly. I got dressed enough to meet room service � it�s my favorite room service meal and I splurge when I can, which arrived as soon as my coffee was ready with a steaming bowl of oatmeal covered with fresh blueberries, strawberries and the sweetest blackberries I�ve ever tasted. Being served breakfast and a paper in my room made me feel luxurious, so I changed back into my yoga pants, turned on Sufjan (perfect breakfast music) and decided to lounge a little longer. I need to get my head into the conference. I�ve got a big day today with a paper to read in the morning and a meeting with a publisher in the afternoon. But I�m feeling too relaxed to care much.

Yesterday afternoon, I walked the couple of blocks from my hotel to the conference to register. I had not been there 20 minutes before I ran into literally every single person I know well here. In fact, I walked up to the registration table and did not leave the area for over an hou,r as people kept passing by and I drifted from one conversation to the next. First there was my friend MC, who is the only other person from my program working more or less the same area I am. He�s hard to catch at these things because not only does he have a job at a big school, but he�s on a kajillion committees. But I managed to say hello at least. He had been walking by with a scholar working on projects that in many ways parallel my dissertation project. We always talk forever when we get together, glad to have a chance of realizing that there are others (if only ourselves) to appreciate the kind of work we do. I then wandered by the press tables to look for my friend S. and ran into P., a guy I dated my first year of grad school and who has proved himself to be a friend for the long haul in some ways that astound me. He is someone who, in my distant past, has shown me I can count on him for things that I could not reasonably expect of anyone but family. And although we don�t talk much, if at all, outside conferences these days, I have immense respect for him.

P. is generally a consummate professional, so I was surprised when, not a few feet from his display table, to hear him talking about his frustration with his job. He is not happy, I think, with the way his life has turned out, but he�s in the process of making some drastic changes � he has bought a business and is hoping to take it overseas to the country he loves best. I found his plans inspiring. He�s quite a bit older than I � closer to fifty than forty, if I remember correctly. �I�m having my midlife crisis,� he confessed with a grin. If that�s what it�s called, I think I might want one � something to motivate me to do big things. I wish him the best of luck.

My friend S. ran up to us and threw her arms around me in the middle of our conversation � she knows P. too. Not only are they in the same business, but the three of us all sang in choir together over a decade ago. S. and I made plans to meet for drinks and/or dinner Saturday night.

After we all wandered off in our separate directions, I went back to the registration to deal with my missing forms � their computer system had lost many of the online registrants, myself included. It was then that I realized my driver�s license was not in my wallet. I was certain I had put it back there after airport security, but because I was in a hurry and the slot for the license is stiff, I stuck it in sideways. It was gone. I went back to my hotel and turned it upside down. Gone. I called lost and found at both airports. Gone. I called Pittsburgh to see if they�d let me come home without it. They were most reassuring. I�d just be classed as a special risk. That was okay by me. I�ve had it happen before when I bought a one way ticket to see my parents. It�s not pleasant, but I�ll survive. I�ll just need to make sure I�m at the airport extra early on Sunday. So, that�s stupid thing number two that I�ve done here. So far this conference has been a big pile of stressful dramas and better-than-expecteds. One big fortunately/unfortunately.

After I called Mr. Spy and AJ, I headed back to the conference for a tradition of this particular conference, a Sacred Harp singalong. The Sacred Harp is a collection of early American hymns that was published in the mid-1800s. Instead of traditional music notation, it uses a variant called shape notes, which were designed to aid the learning of the melodies by cuing the keys. The note heads change shape to denote the pitch�s role in the key. I�ve never tried singing it before, except in the famous arrangements by Alice Parker, and I�ve always wanted to. It was great fun. I ended up sharing a book with an energetic woman from that big library in Washington. She was an experienced singer and I learned a lot from her. She kind of adopted me, the perfect foil to my early conference shyness. In Sacred Harp, the four voice parts traditionally sit on four sides facing into a central circle, like four arms of a compass. The leader stands in the middle and directs. Different people took turns choosing and leading tunes. We sang each tune once through on the shape note syllables (fa, sol, la, mi). My singing partner wanted me to hear what it sounded like in the middle, so she took a tune I knew and loved, �Wondrous Love,� and dragged me into the circle while she directed. It was riveting, all that sound rushing at me from all sides � there were probably over 100 people there. Afterwards, I�d been planning on going back to my hotel, but instead she sort of dragged me onto a bus for a concert at the University of Pittsburgh. The concert was not particularly inspiring � the orchestra seemed not to have rehearsed a couple of the pieces and they were still practicing on the stage at concert time � but I got the chance to see the campus and walk through the Cathedral of Learning, which reminded me of my home campus in its Gothic design. By the time we got back to the hotel � I took the first bus home, skipping a post concert reception in favor of sleep, it was raining hard. As the rest of the busload turned left to walk into the hotel, I turned right, tipping my open umbrella back over my shoulder to see the rain falling down, sparkling against the night lights. Walking back, I felt free. Aloneness is something that happens so seldom to me in my life at the moment that it is pure joy.

And now, I am late for morning meetings. I need to get ready for my presentation. Let the butterflies begin.

3 people said it like they meant it

 
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