group meetings

Wednesday has become our new group meeting day.  It moves around an awful lot because Andy’s schedule has been so unpredictable that we meet when we can.

Last semester we met on Fridays, partly because Andy could usually be around for them but also in part because there was a bit of a kerfuffle, shall we say, with the solar group, who didn’t book the room.  When Kate booked it (apparently out from under them, because they had always been there) due to Andy’s availability, solar group was very angry.

They took it very personally.

The whole situation spun out in emails while we were at a symposium out at West Campus.  Someone was speaking about something or other and not sticking to his or her allotted time because scientists never do (this phenomenon is probably not unique to scientists) when Kate leaned over, the dimmed screen of her phone in her hand, gave me a meaningful look and then handed me the phone.

It turned out that the graduate student who ought to have booked the room didn’t realize that she had to book it, thought they could just have it on ceremony.  When they showed up to have their meeting and discovered the room occupied, she stewed about it for a while, and then sent a saccharin email to the woman who manages the booking schedule.

Of course, it didn’t paint us as a group in a particularly positive light, but Karen forwarded the email on to Kate and asked Kate if she wouldn’t consider switching our group meeting time.  After reading the caustic forwarded email, Kate didn’t want to switch the times at all.  She composed a response and showed it to me.

‘I dunno,’ I whispered there in the back of the dark auditorium, ‘might be better to just forward the whole exchange to Andy.’  And that is what we did.

A few moments later, she stifled laughter and handed me her phone again.  Andy had laid down the law with an email that made me realize that people who weren’t under his protection weren’t unreasonable to be intimidated by him.  There were several comments to the effect that one ought to be more genial in an email that one is releasing out into the wild.

We kept the room.

But since then, we’ve moved to Wednesdays.  Today, after Andy’s class, he arrived to group meeting.  “I’m short on time, so I’m going to keep myself to no comments.”  Of course he didn’t, but group meeting went reasonably well.  He continued with “But I’ve been getting these spam emails… has anyone else been getting spam?”

Confused, we waited for elaboration.

“They’re from [wife’s name].  But you know how I know it’s not her?  It said ‘you’re awesome.’”

Everyone kind of ‘oooo’d at that, which was funny, and Steve turned around and said, “What, she’s never told you you’re awesome?”  And then we ‘oooo’d some more.

Diane presented first, and suggested a new route to an intermediate, involving some “old-school Phillips lab chemistry.” 

“I’m going to stop you right there,” said Andy, “you’re making me feel old.”

“That was TEN YEARS ago,” Kate said, grinning wickedly, and Andy looked over at her.

“You’re making it worse.”

“Andy,” said Denise, “You’re AWESOME.”  The room dissolved into laughter.  “Did that make you feel better?”

“If it wasn’t for legal trouble,” said Andy, turning with arms outstretched, “I’d hug you.”