I waved this off with a smile. "My treat. It feels good to get back into the scientific world." Johnson gave me an odd look at that, so I said, "I'll explain when we get there."
I waited while the professor packed his briefcase and then followed him outside. Five minutes later I followed him into a parking lot on Frederick. I led him inside. Very nice, large, with lots of tables and a few booths. By now the evening rush was long over and we were among the last wave of diners.
The hostess seated us in a booth and gave us our menus, and a pretty young waitress came over. "Hello. My name is Gretchen and I'll be serving you. Can I get you gentlemen something to drink while you decide what you want?"
I smiled and nodded. "It's been a long day. Can I get a gin and tonic?" I looked over at Johnson and said, "Remember, my treat."
He smiled back and ordered a Manhattan. Then, after Gretchen left, he said, "Well, I don't turn down too many free meals. What do you normally do? What's your day job?"
I nodded. "Ah, what did I do when I left RPI with my doctorate?" He nodded, and I said, "Well, for a few years I worked for Uncle Sam. I went to school on an ROTC scholarship, so after graduation I went into the Army. When I got out of the Army, I started an investment company. That's what I do now."
"You started an investment company?", he asked incredulously.
I smiled. "Mathematics offers a number of very lucrative career choices, Doctor."
"I guess so."
We chatted a few minutes about RPI and Clarkson, and I admitted that I had hurt my leg in the Army, and that was why I used a cane. When the waitress came back with our drinks, she asked, "Ready to order now?"
I had glanced at my menu, and knew what I wanted. "Are the crab cakes good?"
"The crab cakes are great!"
"Sounds good to me." I handed Gretchen the menu and we looked at Johnson.
"I'm sold. The same for me, please."
"Two crab cake orders coming right up." She left.
I sipped my drink and it was just what I needed. "Ahh, that hits the spot. I have to drive tonight, so I can't have more than two, but it's been a long day."
Johnson drank some of his and gave a childish grin. "I feel like I'm breaking the rules, drinking on a school night. My wife and I usually just have a few drinks over the weekend."
We chatted a little more. Johnson was a few years older than me, perhaps 35 or 36, married to an English professor at the college, with two girls, both in junior high school. He was a fairly average fellow. The absent-minded professor stereotype is just that, a stereotype. Shortly before the waitress brought out our crab cakes, he asked, "So, why did you come to the symposium?"
"Well, I think just because you invited me. I doubt if I would have even heard of it otherwise."
He shook his head. "I just wish more people were interested in the infrastructure they depend on. Nothing ever happens until something collapses and somebody dies."
Gretchen came out with our plates at that moment, so I was delayed in responding. I did order a second round of drinks. Then, after sampling my crab cake (very tasty!), I said, "Without a decent advertising and public relations campaign, you'll never get people to care about infrastructure. It's just not very sexy, and it costs money."
He shrugged. "I know. You're right. What do you do about it?"
"Not really sure. I can tell you one thing, though. If what you're doing isn't working, don't continue doing it in the hopes it will suddenly work. Do something different. Even in the little things."
"Like what?"
Thankfully I had just started chewing a piece of crab cake, so I had a few seconds to think. I had opened my fat yap without thinking. I held up a finger as a timeout while I chewed and swallowed, and then washed the bite down with my gin and tonic. "Okay, well, something simple. I was reading your papers. They had titles like, oh, 'Adverse Oxidation Effects On Infrastructure Cost Scenarios'. Nobody outside of the engineering field will ever read that. What regular people will read, what politicians and newspaper people will read, is 'Rusty Bridges Cost Money!'"
"Well, yes, but that's not how technical papers get written!", he protested.
"I know that. I've written some myself. What I'm saying, though, is that if you want to get the attention of people who aren't technical, you can't write technical. You have to write in terms they can understand and relate to. They won't understand scenarios. They'll understand a bridge collapsing and their taxes going up. You need to gear your public information to the public.", I answered.
I continued, "That's just one thing. I'm sure there are others. For instance, politicians love to be photographed opening a bridge or breaking ground doing something. You need to convince them that it's just as sexy to be photographed filling in a pothole or placing a traffic cone on the street. Tell them how it makes them look practical and thrifty. Hit them over the head with dollars, not tech reports and journals."
He smiled. "You sound like somebody without very much trust in our public servants."
"I trust them to do whatever they think will get them re-elected. Convince them that filling potholes will get them re-elected, and they will fill in potholes."
"That's very cynical."
"That's very realistic.", I replied.
He thought for a second and said, "You should run for office."
I practically spit out my drink. "Not in a million years!"
"Then how will you ever get things to change? If you don't help, who will?"
"Figure out a different way, Professor. I haven't sunk that low, yet.", I responded.
After our late dinner, I thanked Johnson for an interesting evening and went home. I got to bed around midnight. Marilyn was already fast asleep, with Dum-Dum warming my side of the bed. I let the dog out to pee in the back yard, and when she came back in she went to Charlie's room. I climbed into my pre-warmed bed and fell asleep.
Friday morning Marilyn was snuggled up against me. As per our normal schedule, she woke up before me, and headed into the bathroom to get a shower first. Since Marilyn's normal morning routine takes thirty-plus minutes, I caught a few more winks. Dum-Dum woke me a few minutes later and whined until I put her out in the back yard. While she peed, I went into the bathroom and did the same. I returned to let her in and then headed back to the bathroom for my shower and shave.
"Morning! How was your lecture?", asked Marilyn.
"Interesting, and it was a symposium, not a lecture."
"Only you would care about the difference."
I had to smile at that. "Sorry I got home so late. I ended up talking to the professor late. Did you stay up waiting for me?"
"No. After I got the kids to bed, I fell asleep on the couch."
"Well, sorry about that."
Just then, the girls came stumbling into our bathroom, gabbling about breakfast. I hastily wrapped a towel around my waist. "You two are going to get an anatomy lesson one of these days!", I protested.
"It'll be a short lesson.", commented their mother.
"Oh, that is cold, lady! That is cold!"
Marilyn blew a raspberry at me and then herded the girls back out through the bedroom and down the hall. I hopped in the shower and did my morning ablutions in about half the time it takes Marilyn. On the other hand, a major portion of her regimen includes rubbing body lotion all over - and I mean all over. On kid free vacations, I tended to treat this as a spectator sport. I had decided that there was a certain downside to complaining about this use of her time.