Dispatch from the road.

Conference time is not like other forms of time.

I am sitting in the President's Club of Continental Airlines, thanks to my friend Carolyn who is a member, enjoying the free-wifi and snacks while awaiting my flight back to Denver which departs in about 90 minutes. This is a much more positive airport experience than I was expecting to have.

It has been a busy few days in Cleveland. I've been here for the Mid-America Theatre Conference, and my main function was to attend two sesssions known as the "AiP" (Articles in Progress). As general editor of the Journal of Religion and Theatre, it was a neat opportunity to come to the Midwest, stay for a few days, and work with seven scholars who are refining their work towards publication. Some of them needed content and organizational guidance while others were almost to the copyediting and proofreading stage before journal submission. It was fun to read articles so disparate from across my field, and to discuss the scholarship in depth in a way I don't usually get to do outside a writing classroom.

I've seen a few former classmates and had a chance to catch up with ladies who have dispersed across the country since dissertating, which was pleasant. Since I'm not in the classroom, though, and not on the tenure track, I'm under less pressure to publish and also have less current interest in pedagogical sessions on how to teach intro classes, so most of the other sessions at the conference were not directly pertinent either to my work or the work of the journal I edit. That said, it was actually the times I spent getting out into the city, and away from downtown, that were the most rewarding sections of the trip.

Last evening, Carolyn, another conference roommate Elizabeth, and I took a taxi to the Velvet Tango Room. I wholeheartedly recommend you visit should you ever come to Cleveland--check it out at:

http://www.velvettangoroom.com/

Unfortunately the online site doesn't reproduce their drink menu, which is incredibly detailed and full of historical anecdotes about the various drinks they serve. It was a very nice, unassuming-from-the-outside bar that specializes in Prohibition-era cocktails. I tried the Pisco Sour, made with freshly whipped egg white and homemade bitters. Other beverages my friends had were similarly fabulous--a real Ramos Gin Fizz (which tasted vaguely like a gin milkshake), and something called an Apricot Lady which also deserves future duplication. There was a live piano player, and the owner was wearing an ascot and walking through chatting with customers while carrying a walking stick. It was a charming place and one I hope to revisit with my husband one of these days. Boulder has recently opened a restaurant called "Salt" at 10th and Pearl that specializes in the same sorts of cocktails, so I welcome the trend in general.

Today, since we both had late-afternoon flights out, Carolyn and I went to the Cleveland Museum of Art and a nearby bakery recommended by a friend in Little Italy. The bakery was fabulous (light, fluffy Napoleons with both chocolate and vanilla creme layers!) and the art museum was considerably under construction. Quite by accident we arrived there on opening day of an American Indian (their term) exhibition and ran into quite a bit of outreach activity, in addition to the main gallery contents which were accessible only after going through a three-story rat maze of construction. The maze had been thoughtfully handled by the museum, however, so that visitors would still be having an art experience all the way through to the actual art (which included a heavy dose of guns and armor as well). My favorite construction moment was a series of three portholes labelled "Past-Present-Future". The "Past" porthole looked onto a period photo of the view out the museum window as it was originally in 1916. The "Present" porthole looked out onto the construction site. The "Future" porthole contained an artist's illustration of what the finished glass atrium should look like when completed in 2012. Quite a neat effect. Also saw my first Damien Hirst piece, a huge triptych of cathedral windows that close-up are composed completely of butterflies, some painted, others left with their natural coloring, all backlit to closely resemble stained glass. I wish they'd had postcards or pictures of that. Several works referred to in a play I worked on last year were also on display, including a Berthe Morisot portrait by Manet and one of Morisot's own works, a painting of her sister Edma reading. It was lovely to see them on the canvas after working with months of them as slides in a theatrical production.

Now, alas but also with some joy, I'm headed home for laundry and the new workweek. I enjoyed the trip a lot but have very much missed my family, particularly Tuck since he is the least articulate on the phone. I'm looking forward to late March when we'll be road-tripping as a family. This was a great break (although unsurprisingly not restful), but I'm looking forward to the family trip ahead after spending this many days without my youthful appendages.