Walking out of our hotel the first full day of the conference, GWB commented, of the people occupying every chair and sofa in the lobby, "You know, if an alien were suddenly to land here, knowing nothing about earth culture. . . he'd still be able to tell that these people are academics."

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Our hotel was a couple of Metro stops from the main conference events, so we spent a fair amount of time shuttling back and forth. Every time I caught sight of the legend, "Shady Grove," I'd start rapping, "I'm Grove Shady/Yes I'm the real Shady/And all those other Grove Shadys/are just imitatin'."

[GWB found this pretty hilarious. Everyone else who knows me in real life is now wincing.]

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Waiting around in a lobby before one of my interviews I happened to be seated near the hotel's coat check. A not-small number of people in otherwise sharp suits wound up retreiving, say, big turqouise parkas or red barn coats.

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At the INRU reception, one faculty member walked in and suddenly announced, "I just realized that this is red country! I don't how I was forgetting it--we're in occupied territory!"

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Midway through our train ride back to MEC yesterday--hours after the conference had ended and a full day after we ourselves had left--GWB nudged me and tipped his head in the direction of the couple across the aisle, mouthing, "M-L-A."

"Really?" I said. The wife was young and pretty and holding a squalling child. . . but when I looked again I saw that, yes, the aging male half of the couple was wearing a beat-up houndstouth jacket and a burgundy turtleneck. I turned back around. "Good call!"

"Yeah, well, I've got good prof-dar."