Archive for October, 2006

Memphis is the sort of place where the air wraps around your skin from the second your foot hits the airplane stairs. Working here sometimes feels like a vacation because I don’t have to think all day; I run my experiments and make idle conversation with the staff, but difficult processing never enters into the equation. And at the end of the day, I find myself bereft of work to do. I don’t know anyone here and I eat my meals alone – this is ok. Sometimes when I take vacations to places where cells don’t work, I feel very disconnected at first. Memphis feels the same, even with operational cellular, but the disconnect quickly fades to a calm feeling of freedom…from responsibility, social obligation and the ubiquitous conversation/interaction.

It’s autumn here, which means it’s 80 F outside so people talk about the cold weather. Sometimes I imagine a Denver-style mega blizzard dumping half a meter on the entire South and grin about what I think might happen. I shouldn’t laugh though…a lot of nice people would die. As today’s morning donor said when I asked him how he was doing, “Another day that I can say ‘I woke up this morning.’”

Accents make me enjoy listening to otherwise meaningless speech. When i was on the train in the Denver airport, I heard a man talking with a lady about her daughter’s speech therapy. The ol’ are/awe car/caw conundrum. What sound does a lion make? WAAW! “Apparently,” remarked the mother, “at her age, not being able to say ‘are’ instead of ‘awe’ is indicative of a developmental disorder.” The man said she sounded like a good Bostonian. This of course gave me the idea to write an open letter to the city of Boston:

To whom it may concern: (This means you, Massachussetts)
Recent evidence now allowed experts to conclude what the rest of us, for years, have already taken for granted: you all (Memphis: all ya’ll) are suffering from a developmental disorder. Symptoms include, but are not limited to:
•your accent
•your driving
•your Tea Party
•your excessive number of universities – like a new sportscar to match a 45 year old bald spot: who are you fooling?!

Lifeblood, where I’m working, is near enough to the Souther College of Optometry, that I often eat lunch in the “20/20 cafe.” I wanted to talk to the students today, but got too shy, so I watched them eat and thought of funny things to say, such as:

“Looking good, ladies…” (add wink and “get it?!” for bonus points)

“Yeah, the Southern College of Optometry isn’t the greatest school, but it was the first that caught my eye…”

I’m kinda hoping Barry will have some good ideas on this subject…he’s always had a good eye for Optometry puns.

When I eat alone, I often fantasize that I will just sit down at a table with another person who is also ensconsed in the solitude of business travel. I never do it, but I think about it. They’re really everywhere, these people. You never really notice them when you’re not alone, because your eyes have counterparts across the table to distract you from looking at everyone in the room. But we’re there. We eat fast and maybe read or make a phone call, and then disappear with a flash of the corporate card. Someday I’ll connect with another one. We’ll sit and talk about what he does and what I do, and then we’ll part ways and retreat to rental cars and hotel rooms to sleep until we smell our continental breakfasts through the crack under the card-access doors of our respective hotels.