It's the shoveling period of the end-of-the-semester blizzard, and I'm looking to making snow angels.

The tipping point is upon all of us in higher education where culminating 15 weeks of labor, planning, reading, grading, and presenting turns around into projects submitted by undergraduate and graduate students. At the same time, gingerbread cookies are dancing in my head and the latest Peter Jackson Hobbit film is waiting for my viewing in theaters somewhere near my home.

I traveled through Canisius Hall today, handing out 'snowflake' glasses to the individuals who make the work I do at Fairfield University possible. Dawn, pictured to the right, sported the flake specters with cheerleading finesse (she once was a cheerleader for the New England Patriots, after all, so the flare served her right). Really, however, it's the energy of colleagues and staff that keep me spirited between the grading, shoveling, sprinkling of salt, and fret of holiday shopping - a zest that brings the holiday season alive.

I did what I could yesterday and know I have at least two more days of assessing to complete before I can think about heading to the frenzy of holiday stores to finish the purchases before heading to CNY. I look forward to the moments when the pile of student work is no longer on my desk and when I live like a normal human being without the guilt of offering better and more substantial feedback.

You'd think it would get easier, but it remains exhausting - the mental work, however, is what it's all about. At least today, the temperatures are suppose to rise and it shouldn't take 1.5 hours to reach the University. Fingers crossed. 

Dr. Afshar's family - Celebrating Christmas in 'Vein' and so nice to receive a card @VeinConnecticut

I don't usually go to my mailbox with the expectation that  correspondence will greet me. I am used to junk mail, bills, and the books I order.

Yet, yesterday, I received a holiday card from my friends at the Vein Institute of Connecticut. Considering the number of procedures they did for me this year, I couldn't help but post their holiday card on my refrigerator right next to the Barnwell and Isgar cards that also arrived in the mail. Wow, three Christmas cards...I truly scored this year.  The Vein Institute of Connecticut got to know me intimately this summer and fall - some of them more than others - so I thought they deserved magnets and to hang with my nieces and nephews.

It's funny, too. Because I posted about my procedures in 2013 several times on this blog, the world of cyberspace has targeted me as a vein fanatic. Whenever I use Facebook, You Tube, or even Words with Friends, I am bombard with vein commercials, vein creams, vein contacts, and vein articles. It's humorous, actually, that all roads lead to Dr. Afshar's work. That's why I am tweeting out to him, today. I've sent many clients his way and I think he should have included me in his holiday card as the institute's #1 patient. 

Syracuse means many things, but accomplishments, CUSE, and family are high on the list @harlemson

And this, I believe, I share with Dr. Don C. Sawyer III who successfully defended his dissertation earlier this month. He is a diehard fan of the Orange, a dedicated father of four, a devoted scholar to the communities he serves, and a genuine man of integrity. I am a better human being because I know him.

For the last two years, Sawyer and I have tried to find time to get together in Connecticut (he teaches at Quinnipiac University down the road). Yesterday, however, in celebration of his accomplishment, we finally found the chance at a nearby pub in Hamden where I was able to finally deliver bottles of Dinosaur BBQ and Wegmans Asian BBQ as an accolade for his achievement.

I met Don early in my doctoral career and although we didn't have classes together, we bonded over a shared focus with Syracuse youth - an advocacy we both carry in our current work in Connecticut, too. Most recently, Dr. Sawyer has been investing time with young men at Wilbur Cross High School in New Haven where he is advocating for the literacies youth value and the respect they deserve.

Of course, the other reason Don and I met yesterday was for the Syracuse/St. John's game. Originally, we intended to take the train into the city, but circumstances (before the snow and ice arrived) hampered that event.

I grew up north of Syracuse and so the hill where Syracuse University resides represented privilege, sports, and out-of-reach territories to me. Arriving to its academic world in 2007, I was unsure of how I would navigate my roots with the world of a private institute of higher education. Yet, I'm an Orangeman now and will be to the day I die.

I advocated for Syracuse sports teams since I was a little boy, but now I am a proponent of their academics, their dedication to scholarship in action, and their support of a wide variety of people and interests.

Meeting with Dr. Sawyer, yesterday, was like having a piece of Syracuse with me in southern Connecticut - a family reunion of sorts. It's good to have him nearby because most would not understand the pride I have for that place now or the love/hate relationship that results because of the stress and abundance of snow.

Here's to you, Professor. You deserve a Nordic YELP for what you've accomplished.

Without a doubt, I look like Bumble whenever I grade end-of-the-semester projects before the holidays

The truth is, I am in a better place than preparing 12th grade writing portfolios for the State of Kentucky, but grading and feedback is never easy, even when the sheer volume is decreased. Reading and providing final insight is a finesse that takes time, indoor activity that is obnoxiously stationary, and patience that in time it will all get done.

At 11 pm last night, I finally gave into the exhaustion. Yes, I was forced to grade because the weather trapped me in my house, but the aches in my wrist and the delirium in my thoughts are true indicators that the final lap is being sprinted. And I have to thank NBC for airing Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer for giving me last-minute inspiration. As the land of misfit toys sang and the story brought me back to my childhood, I began to see the light that soon I will be in the embrace (and chaos) of my CNY family (is it me or do others see the undertones of this classic story as being hilarious and subversive?).

Either way, I'm getting things done. I'm having trouble putting words together for this post, but I have the pep in my step for the holidays. It is my hope that the words (and grades) I give my students will be like a cup of warm cocoa to carry into their writing lives.

Ho Ho Ho.

Beanie Babies, Graphic Novels, First Graders and a Spectacular Teacher at Multicultural Magnet

Yesterday, I had the privilege of working in a bilingual first grade classroom in Bridgeport where a fabulous group of students shared their writing journals, ongoing graphic novels, new textbook, and digital story they made in honor of Thanksgiving. For the last month, I've had bags of Beanie babies in my house and I donated them to the classroom as additional pets to bring these stellar young writers inspiration and comfort. Each kid was given an animal and asked to draw it in their notebook and to write descriptive sentences about what their creature might be thinking.

The crew have been practicing their writing and when I entered they were armed with questions: Bryan, how tall are you? Bryan, how do you teach Ms. Johnson writing? Bryan, how old are you? Bryan, what do you think the major difference is between a typical book and a graphic novel? Bryan, do you write? Bryan, how often do you write? Bryan, why do you like to write?

Several of the kids used words like BAM! SHAZAM! POP! and KAPOW! and together we learned to spell onomatopoeia (no, it doesn't mean I have to go to the bathroom).

What stood out to me today, however, was the ease and comfort these geniuses had with their teacher. The room was loaded with texts, student-created productions, books, and knowledge. What I loved more was that everything was written in Spanish and English, with an emphasis on Brazil and their fascination with their teacher's home country.

I've forgotten how much youngsters love to share their craft. Several wanted me to sit by them as they wrote every letter of each word wondering, "Am I doing a good job?"

I couldn't help but be proud of these incredible kids and their teachers. They made me feel like a king and I hope they invite me back again and again (Yes, they rejuvenated Mr. Moonbeam and the magic he learned with All Stars in Kentucky). It was remarkable to see scholarship from my graduate course on teaching writing put in action: theory blends nicely with the work in the field: I am inspired to keep up the good work and am DEFINITELY revived because of the love, joy, and intelligence of these young minds. Bravo.

Happy Holidays, Lois. As the December Chill Makes Me Crack My Knuckles, You Are On My Mind @CWPFairfield

A year ago this weekend, Lois, Pam, and I created one of my favorite memories since arriving to Connecticut. We planned to get together, but because of the cold we stayed home. Instead of driving somewhere to be together, we proceeded to sing Christmas carols and to make silly videos that we sent to one another on our phones and iPads. The three of us partied, even though we were in the comforts of our own homes. We laughed hysterically, too, and promised one another we would keep the videos forever.

A few days later, we created this photograph (left) on Lois's desktop in the CWP office - Lois sandwiched by her younger twin siblings separated by birth and seven years apart. I love this photograph because it represents the joy and love we had in one another's company, not only at Fairfield, but in our personal lives as well.

I am thinking about Lois every day: her creativity, humor, zest for life, and irreplaceable ability to keep a positive attitude even in the most difficult times. So much of what I've been able to accomplish in a short period of time in Connecticut is due to the magic that was Lois Minto. This magic is more special at this time of year. Lois is far from forgotten. She is the I's, L's, and Y's I now see everywhere.

Tonight is the annual GSEAP holiday party and it won't be the same without Lois as my date. I am looking at the Duck painting from last year that she convinced me to give away during the holiday swap. Then, two hours later, she chose to swap the gift to take home with her. Why? She was thinking creatively and, in February, she returned it to me as a present that now hangs on my wall.

Happy Holidays, Angel. I continue to buy lottery tickets in your honor. Elephant Shoe. Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me, as it once was modeled through you.

How am I Liking Them Apples? To be honest, I'm not liking them at all.

"Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world" - Nelson Mandela

I've been a fan of the tacky holiday sweater fad ever since the kitschy trend began a decade or so ago. The teacher sweater thing, however, always bothered me, except on days when my colleagues and I came to school as substitute teachers fashioning ourselves in dorky teacher clothing. We did this tongue-in-cheek, making fun of the careers we chose for ourselves and the ways we got positioned by society. We knew we were professionals, so the campiness was sardonic wit meant to celebrate the excellence we chose for our lives.

I am reflecting on 'teacher idenity' because in the classroom I was the sort of teacher who lost sleep over ways to better accomplish the impossible work in America's urban public schools. No matter how many degrees, how many books, how much professional development, and how much luck, I couldn't accomplish everything I hoped to do with a group of students. I feel the same is true, today. If a kid was failing to attend school, didn't turn in homework, grew disgruntled with his peers, or looked at me with sad eyes, I knew I needed to bring my A game to help him. There were no ticker-tape parades for such work - no golden apples - but there was always the thank-you that came at the end of the year. This was what I cherished before top-down management arrived and Sauron-panoptica began its teacher surveillance and scrutiny.

Yesterday, Diane Ravitch wrote on how Teach for America is receiving charity donations this holiday season because of their corporate ties, partnerships, and collaboration: Is TFA Your Favorite Charity? I read her post after spending two days doing professional development in urban school districts: one that was K-8 and another that was a high school. In both locations I witnessed passionate, dedicated, devoted and hardworking teachers doing everything in their power to succeed with students. Both serve nearly 100% free and reduced lunch and repeatedly fall in the bottom percentile of state achievement reports. Their "high needs" stature, which is true, and the faltering literacy and math skills, that are also true, are not an indication of the hard work and perseverance the staff in both locations puts forth every day. They deserve extra funding - not TFA. We should be investing in the professional educators already in these schools and not the experimental silliness of inexperienced do-gooders who are looking for a two-year commitment on their resumes.

I am trying to figure out the logic behind Teach For America. When I first learned about the organization, I thought it was designed to bring highly educated graduates from rigorous, ivy-league institutions into underperforming schools to help close achievement gaps. Now, I reading that TFA is actually a charity for wealthy individuals who want to teach. Let me restate that. TFA is a charity for the wealthy (it is postmodernism and late capitalism at its worst - or best...depending on the angles we look at it).  The design of TFA has the following logic:

• Because some students attend more elite institutes of higher education than others, they are superior to students who do Masters degrees in education (or even doctorates)
• A five-week training program (arguably based on the Amway model) trumps research-based curriculum and practices that are integrated within Graduate Schools of Education that are held accountable to accreditation programs.
• Those accepted to TFA (who often attend schools and universities that cost $30,000 or more a year+) deserve financial handouts.
• Two years of commitment with limited support and training is all it takes to change the nation's schools: experience, commitment, and sustainable investments are unnecessary.
• Young people who arrive to TFA are, by virtue of their birth and privileges, placed in schools where children need the BEST teachers. More likely than not, they are college graduates who have benefited from traditional curricula that upholds the cultural traditions and histories of people just like them. At the same time, they are sent - as missionaries - to work in failing schools with curriculum that traditionally fails to represent the cultural identities of heterogeneous populations.  
• The Federal government supports this.

It is institutional racism gone amok. 

We, as a country, are talking out of both sides of our mouths. Wait. That's not true. National leaders are talking out of both sides of their mouths. How can they claim they are working to fix the disparities in American schools yet send undertrained, naive youngsters to do the professional work that ALL students in the United States need? Would TFA be recruited to affluent school districts? No. Why? Parents would not stand for that. They seek intelligent, seasoned and professional educators in their district. Yet, for the poor, TFA suffices. That's social injustice and simply wrong.  

I have been an urban school educator for over eighteen years. I am man with two Masters degrees, a doctorate, training through the Annenberg Institute, teaching experiences in the U.S., Japan and Denmark, additional coursework from Cambridge University and the Bread Loaf School of English, and 18 years of urban classroom experience. I have benefited from the National Writing Project, the National Council of Teachers of English, the Critical Friends Group, the Literacy Research Association, and several state organizations that support best practices in teaching reading, writing, thinking, and speaking. I feel students deserve all the excellence we can give them. They deserve better than TFA post-bachelor vacationers on holiday for two years before they return to President Snow's Capitol and comforts. I'm thanking Diane Ravitch for acting as Katniss and demonstrating that we can fight with finesse, strength, intelligence, and commitment to exploit the nonsense of our nation's Teaching Games. 

Yes, I've met a few excellent TFA teachers, but they are the exception and far from the norm. They admit they do not receive the support necessary from their organization to sustain them in the profession. So what are we doing? Why is this allowed to happen?

There has never been a post-colonial period in history and the Imperialism of the 18th century continues on the TFA road of good intention. Yet, TFA is a charity and teachers who have dedicated their lives to the youth of America are no longer professionals. Our nation's poor - 'uncivilized' natives in the core of postindustrial cities - need salvation from the TFA elite.

The Gods Must Be Crazy.

Ubuntu, Mandela. Rest In Peace. Look over the foolishness of our species and help us to do what we can to make the world a better, more equitable place. Guide us from above as you did from your days on earth below.

Snow fall, accumulation, and end-of-semester tasks do not mesh well.

The weather report called for the first winter blast and schools around Connecticut closed. I, however, had my last graduate course to teach and a series of important meetings on campus. Truth be told, I wanted a snow day like the kids - I could have benefited from a day on the couch with my laptop and grading. Yet, as the snowflakes began to fall, I headed into campus to accomplish what I'm paid to do.

Trust me, I didn't want to be there. Even so, I'm glad I was.

There's something about the onset of flakes that creates a flaking attitude within me. It came down hard for a while and I sent out an email to students to watch the roads and make a decision that works best for them. Then, it stopped. Holding class was inevitable and another burst of inner arctic energy needed to be found. 120 minutes needed to be covered.

Yet, my mind was on snowplowing, hot cocoa, and getting under a blanket. It wasn't on agendas, planning, curriculum alignment, and conferencing. Yes, I love these, too, but it's harder to love them at the end of 15 weeks when your mind is on family, open days, and the missed opportunity and realization that SO MANY OTHERS were given permission to chill out at home.

Three more days of frantic schedules and then I can work on ME for a couple of weeks: the gym, good books, reunions, and sleep. I have gone far too many nights in a row with horrible sleep. This isn't good. 

And I need to do something about the tooth. It's getting to be a redundant monstrosity in my mouth.

Beginning Digital Acoustics Through Professional Development @writingproject @kwamealexander

Somewhat thawed, but not much, I arrived from Dallas to the ice-covered/school-delayed professional development in New Haven, Connecticut - another phase of the work CWP-Fairfield is doing with a K-8 school. Today, the introduction of school-wide digital storytelling was begun and Eric Komoroff of Community of Unity arrived to provide a courageous conversation about school culture and to establish a foundation for everyone who teaches at Hill Central to find their song.

It needn't be an orchestration of one kind of music, but a cacophony of many genres that makes a harmonic mixed-tape of ideas, ideologies, purposes, content, and communicative needs. Komoroff helped all to think a little deeper about who the WE can be in terms of larger, individual classroom goals that typically occur. His modest, yet astute delivery, made many think about the music that makes them tick - the internal philosophy of the profession and what that 'song' means to the accomplishments of sometimes challenging students. Learning this sound book, however, requires deeper work.

In addition, Kwame Alexander's Acoustic Rooster arrived and the books were quickly wrapped to be used as a touchtone text for writing, thinking, speaking, and reading across the content areas - this before the writer's arrival in the spring of 2014 for National Poetry and Jazz month.

The Rooster in Kwame Alexander's text found his barnyard band by tapping into the originality of his farm friends in a symphony that syncopated larger rhythm to his community - that is the essence that Eric Komoroff, too, introduced to the teachers today.

The next steps are to write around our own songs and, if possible, to incorporate the life skills of Community of Unity: self-awareness, focus, integrity, self-esteem, sense of humor, responsibility, empathy, and self esteem. Today we focused on community and from here we will write the words to make our own digital acoustics in the art form of digital stories. At the heart of it all, however, is our attempt to embrace Ubuntu in the literacy communities we inhabit. The goal is to become more familiar with 21st century tools to best provide instruction to the next generation of writers. As Chris, a middle school student, told Eric and me, "The best thing about Hill Central is the technology." When we asked him what the worst thing was he replied, "Nothing. It's great."

Yet we all agree - great can be greater and greatest! That's the goal!

Feeling Inspired by Marguerite Moore Callaway - @MMCallaway

I've done a lot of conversational work with the Great Whatever (read prayer) over the last four days, including this morning as a van picked me up and drove me from my hotel to the airport. My friends warned me about the roads and how scary they were on the overpasses.

That was an understatement. The roads were beyond dangerous and Texas ice is something I don't ever want to experience again.

The airport, itself, looked like army barracks with 100s of cots set up for sidetracked travelers. The tension from exhausted travelers created a fog of paranoia, frustration, and angst. Still, channeling my "roll with it" attitude, I tested myself to embrace the moment for what it is worth. There was no need to stress; rather, it was best to absorb the moment for what it had to offer. I got coffee, some lunch, and worked on my Hill Central presentation.

After the flight was delayed again, I remained calm. There seemed to be movement that made it look like we would definitely get out. When they finally started boarding, I realized I was moved to first class! Whoa! That was an unlikely change of events. Then, as I began to sit, a kind woman noted she had the seat beside me, so I asked her if I could help her with her bags and she said, "That would be nice."

I'm not sure how the conversation started, all I know is that it continued the entire flight: through cocktails, meals, cookies, heated cashews, and a warm towel. Ms. Callaway is the President of The Callaway Leadership Institute and heading to Yale, via San Francisco, to talk about next steps with the partnership work they do in South Africa. The following from her website describes more:

Using insights discovered while working with leaders and their teams for 35 years, Ms. Callaway has created a practical leadership development framework that results in more effective leaders: Effective 21st Century Leadership™. It focuses on the Leadership Work of Self, Reality, and Relationships. 

Ms. Callaway’s life’s work has been to understand the conditions that foster leadership effectiveness and organizational success. She knows what works and what doesn’t. She’s a recognized expert in leadership development, systems thinking and strategic management, and human motivation in work settings. She has served on several company boards, and is a frequent speaker in domestic and international settings. She is a published author of three books.

As the two of us discussed her work in Africa, I told her about my cousin's work with Hoops4Hope and his commitment to youth there. We started a conversation about Ubuntu and I shared with her the work I dod with relocated youth in Syracuse and the dreams I have for creating Literacy4Life wherever I go. I shared with her that 2013 is dedicated to community and she discussed with me her work of building leadership with Advanced Health Management and investing in the power of individuals desiring to make a difference. We talked about schools, reading, and the magic communities create when they're given opportunities to excel.

We exchanged business cards to the conversation and whether this happens or not is somewhat irrelevant. Why? Because it's not everyday a person gets upgraded to first class after a Texas snowstorm or that one is seated next to such a fascinating, engaging, and wonderful human being. The intellectual dialogue we had extended the professional conversations hosted by the Literacy Research Association and helped me to think about additional possibilities to do with my research and human interests.

Although I returned to Connecticut exhausted, I am rejuvenated for next steps. 

Successful leaders and their teams must use their organizations inevitable challenges as an opportunity to grow, to evolve - Marguerite Callaway

Ice-Scream, You-Scream, We All-Scream for cancelled flights. #LRA13

Hey, Dallas, let me know if you want to do something today. It looks like I'm not getting out. Santa, what do I want for Christmas? How about another evening in my hotel? Put this on your credit card, will ya?

All American flights are cancelled for Saturday and they say the quickest I can get out is 5:50 on Sunday where I will arrive at the earliest 11 pm.. I will take it. In the meantime, I need to get ready for the PD I'm conducting in New Haven on Monday. I will be okay as long as I can get home and have time to get materials ready. Eeks.

I forgot how joyful freezing rain is - it doesn't crunch like snow or drip away like rain. It just sticks, stays, and lingers, making it difficult to maneuver about, to walk, to drive, or to fly. Sidewalks and roads? slick.

I have to admit, though, that I'm okay with this. Why? I now have 24 hours in Dallas, unplanned, where I can grade and think about a lot of things I rarely have time to do. I will roll with this like a tumbleweed. It is Texas after all.

Fingers crossed. Let's hope today is a better day for Dallas Airports.

I awoke yesterday morning knowing that I was most likely going to need to hunker inside and give everything up to Mother Nature. The view from my window showed a pool wanting swimmers, but lined with the inch of ice that is reported in news programs across the nation. I accomplished some grading, but my antsy personality caused me to go for a walk, which proved to be treacherous stupidity and slippery clog dancing. The fresh air did me good, but the majority of the day was spent inside the confines of the hotel room and behind my laptop. I think the anxiety of being trapped caused awful sleep, too, and I'm simply wiped out. I can't think, plan, or operate at the capacity I usually do.

I was thankful, however, that the hotel's restaurant was open for business -

usually a night club on a Saturday night - but I was the only one who used it. I heard people checking in saying they couldn't drive any further because as darkness set, it was still to slick to move. My friend Elizabeth, who did make it out on the flight, said the ride to the airport was one that caused much anxiety and fret, especially on the overpasses. She is thankful to be home. I wish I could say the same.

Yet, things can always be worse. I had food, shelter, and a place to plug in my laptop and I did get through a semi-large chunk of material needing to be accomplished this week. People who travel on a regular basis are nuts. I'm not a fan. I like the routine of familiarity and comfort. The not knowing is a means for insanity - and the fact I didn't pack clothes in anticipation of being trapped has me feeling grimy and frustrated. This too shall pass. I could be stranded in the airport. That would truly suck.

Ubuntu Matters! #LRA13 I am, because we are. Looking forward to another great day.

Today, my colleagues (mentors, friends, supporters) and I are presenting a session with two purposes. The symposium will address our research with English language learners, including students with limited and interrupted formal education, and the ways our personal trajectories of scholarship have interacted.

I, for one, claim that I am who I am as a result of the Syracuse University community.

Our individual interests and theoretical frameworks may differ, but together our findings become more meaningful. That is Ubuntu.

Gerald Campano, the intended discussant, had to leave before the storm. We are thankful, however, to have Lenny Sanchez, University of Missouri, in his place. Kristiina Montero's flight, too, was cancelled so she won't be able to join us, either. Yet, her presentation arrived through Drop Box so we DO have her scholarship and voice. She will be with us after all!

Sadly, the presentation arrives a day after the news of Nelson Mandela's passing. In his honor, we must promote Ubuntu in all that we do - that is, to work towards the well-being of all, rather than the well-being of ourselves, alone.

a humanist philosophy that considers the success of the group above the achievements of the individual (Lundin & Nelson, 2010; Tutu, 2009) 

It is not, "I think therefore I am."  It is rather: "I am human because I belong. I participate, I share.” (Swanson, 2007, p. 31)"                       

It is all about relationships in the same community; it is the link binding individuals and groups together; the ultimate meaning not only of the unity of multiplicity, but of the concentric and harmonic unity of the visible and invisible worlds” (Venter, 2004, p. 153)

And the learning begins...Literacy Research Association Conference, Dallas, Texas #LRA13

In my ongoing tradition of finding a home away from home, I booked a room away from the annual conference, but this year I'm in walking distance, so there was no need to rent a car. My brain is thankful for this, as I deserve a break from massive amounts of traffic (downtown Dallas) and can use my feet to get to where I need to be.

It was great to reunite with Elizabeth Stevens, Marcelle Haddix, Liz Lewis, Kelly Chandler-Olcott, and Detra Price-Dennis at the cocktail party and at Richard Beach's Presidential  event (even better to know Detra is now at Teachers College and a train ride away).

It was also wonderful to eat outdoors, knowing that the possibility for such dining will be limited with the oncoming storm. I couldn't help but ingest the nachos and burgers with the flare of summer (was it really 80 degrees today?). Yet I overate and it's time to recharge for another day of scholarship, conversation, and networking.

Like the Annual Meetings of NWP, the LRA conference has become a tradition and a location to see extended family again. I look forward to the presentations, addresses, and chances to high five colleagues from across the nation. I'm pleased, too, to learn my hotel doesn't smell like wet cats like the reviews proclaimed. I lucked out this time. I've stayed in dives much worse than this in previous years --- trust me. One of these days, I will score and get a room at the conference with the big dawgs.