The Philadelphia Story (or why going away to a conference sounds like fun, but isn't always)

Society for Cinema and Media Studies Conference, 2008. Philadelphia, PA:

I woke up on Thursday morning feeling like something was not quite right. My lungs felt a little tight and tickly; the first cough was just a little painful. It was early – 5:00. My flight for Philadelphia was scheduled to leave at 9:18 and I needed to be out of the house by 6:30 in order to make the hour drive to Indianapolis, park the car, get ticketed, and get on the plane. “Just what I need,” I thought. “I’ll get sick just in time to be stuck at a conference.”

The morning went smoothly. Trinity had made it through the night with only one bout of complaining. Nancy got up at 5:30, and both kids got up in time to see me off (I had worried that David at least would sleep through my leaving). I got to Indy, parked the car, got my tickets, and got on the plane without a hitch. The flight was smooth and uneventful – as it should be (one take-off, one landing). I met a friend at the public transit station and we rode the train into Center City together. I met my friend Amanda at the hotel and we grabbed a nice lunch at El Vez, finishing just in time to get me back to the hotel for my presentation.

I was first up on my panel and as I stepped up to connect my computer to the projector, I noticed that there was no audio cable. After a couple of minutes searching in vain, I gave up. No clips. “OK,” I thought. “I can wing this.” So, I gave my talk without the help of my very carefully and painstakingly prepared clips, opting instead to simply describe them. Something was lost, I think, in the translation, but I did my twenty minutes, people clapped politely, and I was done.

I felt that little tickle in my throat return. My cough had settled in my lungs, which felt very tight.

At 4:00, I went by myself to get a cup of coffee. On the way out, I ran into my friend, Bob, who was supposed to be presenting at that time. He told me that he had to step out because he was feeling a bit nauseous. We talked for a couple of minutes and then I let him go about the business of getting some fresh air. There is a Starbucks across the street from my hotel and so I went there. The line at the counter was at least 30 people long: film and television scholars, every one. I spun on my heels and headed for a little coffee shop I noticed on my way back from lunch earlier. It was just a few blocks away. I sat and had a nice latte and an almond croissant. I saw Bob walk by.

When I finished my latte, I went back to the hotel, went up to my room, and relaxed for just a while on the chaise lounge in my room overlooking Market Street. I was starting to feel pretty rotten and wasn’t sure what to do about dinner. I went downstairs after about an hour and met up with Amanda, Tim, and Serra who were on their way out to dinner. They were kind enough to invite me along. By this time, my voice was pretty much gone and I was getting the aches. I had taken some Advil, though, and it kicked in eventually. Despite my better judgment, I had a couple of beers with dinner. We had a great time and called it a night at about 10:00.

I slept like crap. My general malaise had turned into something with a fever. I kept waking up, unsure of exactly where I was, and unable to get comfortable. My head was pounding.

By the time I finally got up and out of bed this morning, I was sure that I was running a high fever. I got in the shower, got dressed, hunched my shoulders against the chilly air and walked the three blocks to the CVS, whereupon I bought a thermometer. Surprisingly enough, I didn’t have a fever to speak of. I walked a few more blocks to a less visible Starbucks and got a coffee, some coffee cake, and the New York Times. I had a leisurely breakfast, and then went back to the hotel in time to see Amanda’s presentation (which was excellent).

Next I had to chair a panel on television aesthetics, featuring some of the bigger names in the field. I was a little intimidated being the person in charge of telling them when their time was up. It didn’t help that by this time I was sounding more than a little like “Froggy” from the Little Rascals. But the presentations were great, the panelists were nice, and we only went five minutes over.

But my Advil was wearing off, my headache was back with a vengeance, and my voice was all but gone.

My friend Jon called and we made plans to go to lunch along with Jim, Nathan, and Bjorn. We went to this the very popular and very crowded indoor market where they have just about any kind of food imaginable. The crush of people was a little too much so Jon, Jim and I opted for the first hoagie stand we saw; Bjorn and Nathan missed the turn and we lost them in short order. There was absolutely no place to sit in the market, so the three of us walked back to the hotel. There was no place to sit there, either, so we sat on the floor of the lobby, unwrapped our sandwiches and had a nice lunch. It was made even nicer by the fact that Bjorn returned and Tim showed up with some food of his own. I still don’t know what happened to Nathan, though.

Even long lost Chris Dumas appeared. He informed me that Bob had, indeed, thrown up.

I’m feeling like that’s an apt metaphor for the conference. Philadelphia is loud and dirty. The hotel is nearly impossible to navigate efficiently. I feel like crap. But at the same time, it’s great to see friends and have time to catch up with lots of really smart people with similar interests.

Unfortunately, my condition has forced me to cancel my plans for an evening with Bjorn, Sherra, and Lori. I am up in my room now: alone, quiet, and ready to call it a night. I’m a little disappointed, but I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet, too.

Tomorrow's another day.