Matt writes, >I would have been at SAMLA myself (even though conferences generally >make me want to own a handgun) had my sister not been getting married in >Houston. Indeed, this and all other conferences (with the possible exception of the IAPL) tend to make me very cynical and often rather cruel in my thoughts about our choice of professions. Fortunately, I have a position where I need only go to them if I want to for personal reasons and I only ever read at them if I am strongly moved to write something for a particular reason. Otherwise, I can pretty well avoid them. Still the people are fun to watch and strange things happen (like at this one, where, in the middle of the Friday night sessions, right in the middle of Atlanta, word spread through the hotel of Newt's quitting -- the conversations quickly became interesting for entirely other reasons). Anyway, I'll be missing SCMLA in New Orleans this weekend even though the woman I love will be Marloweing there (and even though I could easily see going to the Quarter and watching otherwise serious people make wonderful fools of themselves -- my favorite MLA story involves going to the big show one year in New York City and between sessions wandering into Times Square (B.D. -- Before Disney) and towards my favorite dirty bookstores. There, in the back corner of one, sheepishly perusing the mags and looking nervously around, was a tall, thin man in a long dark coat and glasses. I might not have even noticed his appearance or his apprehension if it weren't for the fact that his struggles for anonyminity were being deliciously undermined by the fact that he was still proudly wearing his MLA badge on his chest, bearing his name and institution in big, black, block letters. I smiled at him and went on with my business). Thanks, Matt, by the way, for not naming names. I guess it makes sense that people on the Salinger list can be trusted with such things. Now it's back to work even though the glories of the day are calling... Just another speaking subject, --John