Posted on March 15, 2008 - by Calvin L. Smith

Englishman Near New York (21)

Yesterday was a day for meeting lots of people, which is half of what these conferences are really about (as with most things, much of the academic game is who you know). One such encounter was somewhat funny. We all have to wear nametags hung around our neck, which also indicate our institutional affiliation. On the reverse side is a colour-coded label indicating our chosen main course for tonight’s  banquet (the idea being everyone gets what they ordered). Anyway, yesterday I chanced upon someone I hadn’t seen for some time so I walked over to greet them. But (and we’ve all been there) it became quickly apparent that this chap had forgotten my name. Somewhat undiplomatically I asked if he remembered me, whereupon he blushed slightly and assured me profusely he did, his eyes switching somewhat rapidly to my nametag for inspiration (this snatched downward glance is a common feature of these conferences, as delegates seek to recall names or determine if they are speaking to a well-known scholar… we all look quite mad, or part of a secret society, or something). Unfortunately, he found little by way of assistance from my nametage as, in the breeze, it had twisted around to declare, in large bold print, ”Prime Rib Dinner”. (I’m just glad he didn’t say something like, “So good to see you again, Dr Dinner”, however apt such a name might be in light of my previous blog entries.) Thus, this poor fellow was in the somewhat curious position of not knowing my name but having insider knowledge of my dietary predilections. Meanwhile, I was somewhat embarassed to realise I had been hob-nobbing with leading scholars in the field while simultaneously announcing proudly via the bright red tag exactly what I would be eating at the banquet the following evening. Thus, when I restored the nametag to its previous status there was relief all round.