So that's the sound of one hand clapping
DARPA celebrated its 50th anniversary on Thursday night in the windowless basement of the Hilton Washington; 1600 academics, research scientists, defense contractors, and political heavyweights crowded into a huge subterranean oval ballroom for some dry salmon, slimy julienned carrots, and speechifyin'. The hotel's event team had gone to town-- yellow and blue bunting adorned everything, and the cavernous ceilings were undulating with blue projections of the famous DARPA logo. The effect was rather Star Trek. You could also be forgiven for thinking you were inside an aquarium.
Because the Vice President was speaking at the event, the only way into the party was through metal detectors. Ladies handed tiny beaded purses to officers wearing pastel latex gloves-- a postmodern blend of black tie and airport security.
At least we didn't have to take off our shoes.
Drink and bathroom lines intertwined and were inseparable from the rest of the mass of humanity crowded into the no man's land between the metal detectors and the ballroom. The pot of gold at the end of the drink line, I have to say, was disappointing.
[insert Defense Department spending joke here]
The Vice President's speech was amusing yet boilerplate, but as former secretary of defense, this is a popular man in these parts. Lines like "when I was Secretary of Defense -- the good old days, when I had real power in this town" were met with stampeding roars of approval.
But then, a bit of unintended drama: Cheney told the assembled samurai that he brought them "congratulations and good wishes from the President of the United States, George W. Bush."
An audience that until then had clapped at every word including "and" and "the" suddenly found its hands paralyzed. A silence ensued-- not one of those on-purpose protest silences, but the kind that happens organically when no one in particular can quite bring himself to clap. Then everyone begins to second guess his clapping instincts-- like not knowing when to clap at the moments of silence that perforate a symphony. And yet, the VP is not continuing his speech, so clapping must be required. And yet-- will you be the first to clap? What if you're wrong?
1600 of these individual thought bubbles filled that windowless ballroom, so it was getting a little thick when suddenly a frenetic applause burst from somewhere in the back of the oval. One man had taken it upon himself to knock down the first domino. The rest of the 1600 followed with tepid clapping and Cheney moved ahead with his speech. Disaster had been averted.
