For five or so years, I have been part of the bioGENESIS core project of the NGO DIVERSITAS. DIVERSITAS "is an international research programme aiming at integrating biodiversity science for human well-being." Within DIVERSITAS, the specific goal of bioGENESIS is to provide an evolutionary framework for biodiversity science. DIVERSITAS is soon ending as an independent identity and its core projects (as well as those of other NGOs) are transitioning to the new uber-NGO Future Earth.
I just arrived a few hours ago in Washington, DC, for a meeting of Future Earth and the many projects that are joining it. I couldn't help but remember that last time I traveled to DC, which was also under the auspices of bioGENESIS. I had quite a strange experience at the time that, in combination with another experience soon thereafter, spurred me to write a narrative called "Wine and World Leaders." I will here provide the first part of that story and give the second part in a later post.
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Feb. 12, 2009,
was Darwin’s 200th birthday and the year of the 150th
anniversary of the publication of his On
the Origin of Species. It was also Abe Lincoln’s 200th birthday
- wonderful coincidence, perhaps, or maybe cosmic convergence. Either birthday would
have been a great occasion to visit Washington DC – and many folks were
doing so for Abe – but I was there for Darwin. The occasion
was a National Academy of Sciences symposium, organized by the NGO
DIVERSITAS, and held at the theater of the American Association for the
Advancement of Science. The title of the symposium was Twenty-first Century
Ecosystems: Systemic Risk and the Public Good – but,
really, it was a celebration of Darwin’s birthday in hopes of influencing
government policy with respect to biodiversity conservation. My purpose was to
talk about how rapid evolution was occurring all around us at all times and
therefore needed to be considered in conservation planning.
I left home
in Napa, CA, where I was on sabbatical, for the San Francisco Airport on a
shuttle – Evan’s Airport Express. I had deliberated the night before as to
whether or not I should bring some wine. Now that we were living on the
vineyard, I could bring wine wherever I went, but I had no specific plan for it
in DC. I could always come up with a reason, I thought, and so I put a couple
of bottles in the bag. The shuttle schedule was a bit awkward and so I got to
the airport a few hours early and checked my bag – because of the wine. If I
hadn’t brought the wine, I would have just carried my small bag onto the plane.
Instead, the small act of bringing two bottles of Hendry wine started a series of
coincidences that, for me at least, rivaled those of Abe L. and Chuck D. taking
their first breaths a few hours apart. Well, maybe not, but the concurrence of
events was still amazing.
Passing through
security, I noticed that there were several earlier flights to DC. I went to
the gate agent and asked if I could get on this earlier flight. “Certainly” she
said, “as long as you didn’t check any bags.” Oh well – damn wine. With several
hours to spare, I got out my computer, plugged it into the wall outlet in the
airport and started working. After the plane boarded, I worked on my computer
almost all the way to DC. Arriving in DC., I checked into my hotel (Palomar) and got out my computer to check email. Noticing I was very low on
batteries, I dug in my pack for my power cord. Oops – it was still plugged into
an outlet in the San Francisco
Airport . Damn it – and I
did actually NEED computer power. I spent the next hour or so calling various
electronic supply companies (Radio Shack, etc.) to see if they had a power
cord. Strangely, all were open (at least according to their phone menu) but
wouldn’t answer their phones - bizarre.
So what was I to
do now? I figured why not walk down to the hotel restaurant and see if any
other folks from my symposium were there – something I probably wouldn't have done if
my computer still had power. I walked into the hotel restaurant and looked
around for my colleagues. The first person I set my eyes on looked exactly like
Hillary Clinton – amazingly so, but I quickly averted my eyes in awkwardness. I
continued round the restaurant thinking, “Could that really have been Hillary.
I know this is DC but really, what are the chances?” None of my colleagues were in the restaurant
so I took another swing back around the restaurant to see if it really was her.
This time I saw who she was with – a guy who looked exactly like Bill Clinton.
Oh s**t! It really was them.
Shocked by how
normal the whole situation seemed, I walked back to the hostess and said, “You
know, I think I will have dinner here tonight.” She seemed to know what
I was thinking and smiled. I continued, “Do you have table with a view of the
Clintons?” She laughed and said she had several and wondered if I would like to
evaluate the sight lines. I said I would, and we picked a table that was one table away
from Bill and Hillary, with reasonable gaps between the tables, and me sitting
facing them. Cool. “Is this typical,” I asked, “having sitting Secretaries of State and
former Presidents stop by for dinner?” “Not really,” she responded, “but Ted
Danson comes here frequently.” Huh? I hadn’t even notice that Bill and Hillary
were having dinner with a guy in a toupee who played a bartender on TV – along with his lady friend.
For the next
hour, Bill and Hillary (and Ted) and I shared a waiter, a water pitcher, and the air we were breathing.
I bonded a bit with the waiter, who introduced me to some nice beers, and we
talked a bit about the absurdity of it all. “I am just trying not to pee my
pants,” was his observation. “Well, they’re having dinner with Ted
Danson,” I said, “it isn’t like they are talking about foreign policy.” “Oh
they are, actually,” he said. It is amazing who has the ear of the Secretary of State
of the most powerful country in the world.
It was a fun
time. Hillary and I exchanged glances a few times – perhaps I occupied the
thoughts of the Secretary of State for a few seconds. Hillary laughed
raucously. Bill smiled that irascible smile and drawled that down-home southern drawl that won the
hearts of voters and interns. And the Secret Service was nowhere in sight –
until the Clintons stood up to leave, that is. And then it was over. I bonded
with the waiter some more, brought him some Hendry wine, and stopped by the
next night to drink it with the wait staff. Too bad I couldn’t get some wine into
the hands of the Clintons .
But the cool thing was that NOBODY disturbed them – standard etiquette in DC, I guess – or maybe the Secret Service would have materialized and tackled
anyone who tried.
So, if I hadn’t
brought Hendry wine, I wouldn’t have taken my scheduled flight, and so I
wouldn’t have used my computer in the airport, and so I wouldn’t have left my
power cord behind, and so I wouldn’t have ended up in the restaurant to have
dinner “with” the Clintons.
Dinner the next night was in the biodiversity gallery of the Smithsonian. |
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Other posts about my experiences with bioGENESIS:
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