On a summer's day

More miscellaneous thoughts while I still don't have time to read, much less reply to, anybody's responses. Maybe Sunday. The hotel has actual keys -- not card keys, but real physical keys. I knew I should have brought a keychain, even if they look silly with just the one key on them. They look sillier with none, though.

I saw my first actual real-life California Highway Patrol folks, too. Yes, I watched a lot of CHiPs when I was young. I haven't tried watching it since I turned ten, and suspect I really shouldn't. I might wreck happy memories of even the dopey episodes, like the one with the flying saucers. But I liked the association.

Forgot to mention I struck up a conversation with someone at the airport for no better reason than overhearing he was going to the same hotel I was. It turned out he wasn't; there are two hotels with almost the same name, from the same management, across the highway from one another, and he was at the other. This served to confuse me as I was only vaguely aware which hotel I was going to. Other people did the arrangements. But -- this is neat -- he was coming from the University of Colorado, and we determined that he may well have met riddoch at some point, probably at a faculty party. As is required in this sort of thing, I didn't catch his name. But that's fair enough; he didn't catch mine. We're hoping to meet up again sometime this week.

Trivia: Mary Cassatt's scheduled debut at the Impressionist salon of 1878 was lost when the salon was cancelled, to avoid competition with the Exposition Universelle. Source: Mary Cassatt, Nancy Mowll Mathews.

Currently Reading: The Stars My Destination, Alfred Bester.