SfN: Travel Log

I got here late night after a plane flight filled with people accidentally clubbing each other with long cyclinders filled with posters. The baggage checkers probably thought we were a horde of terrorists.

"Sir, what is in that long skinny package?" she asks as her hand moves to the alarm. "Science, my dear. Science."

There is simply no way to elegantly carry a poster case, particularly in coach.

There are these pretzel vendors in the airport, and I got to thinking that under the new rules food related liquids probably have to be thoroughly inspected before entering the concourse. Are pretzels a liquid? (Ed. Only if they are done properly.) Is there some screener who has to taste the pretzels for illicit explosives and screen the melted butter for ChemDex? Furthermore, perhaps there is some very elaborate bomber out there building strips of pretzel shaped plastique with fuses that look like salt. Now I live in fear.

Anyway, I got here late last night, so no science - but everyone told me nothing happens here on Saturday. This year there was apparently a Frank Gehry lecture that recieved less than rave reviews. (Scientists, learn to talk!)

What there was in quantity was libations, which places one in a moral quandry. Did I cross state lines for libations alone? I wouldn't like to think so, and it may not seem like a large issue to you but at 8:30 in the morning with 3 hours sleep it was a serious issue for me. It makes you wonder how anyone under the age of the 30 (and several people over the age of 30) learns anything at these things.

The conference appear to adopt a somewhat brute force strategy in this regard. Spaghetti against the wall - throw it all and see what sticks, so that you are bound to learn something. However, that something being determined stochasticly from among the set who knows if it will be anything useful. I struggle on if for no other reason than my boss is not here and I am and there are experiments to be done at home. I damn well better find something of utility even it is only that scientists dance to SexyBack just like everyone else. Surely, there is some generalizable principle in that.

UPDATED: The Atlanta subway system (the MARTA) is library quiet and not particularly crowded. Am I riding at the wrong time? Considering the my personal experience with subways is from the clown car of screaming schizophrenics that is the NY subway system, it is a bit unnerving.

I am only taking the MARTA because the friggin' shuttle failed utterly to show up. Utterly. Moving 40,000 people is tough, but come now people...let's be professional.