The President Writes

Greetings from San Antonio, Texas,  where I am attending the NACE conference, my first in 17 years of membership. Like many dedicated ICorr folk, I am also a member of NACE and one of the purposes of this visit is to meet with their officials and discuss how we can build on the ICorr/NACE relationship for the benefit of both sides. I have to say I am impressed by how many ICorr members are here, working away on the numerous committees or presenting at the technical seminars. There’s also a good selection of our Sustaining Members in the exhibition hall.  I’m not naming names for fear of missing someone, but I feel I should make a special mention of John Broomfield who is not only one of our Fellows, but following last night’s awards ceremony is also a Fellow of NACE in recognition of all the work he does for the NACE technical committees.

San Antonio is a pleasant enough place but not without its own peculiarities. It’s certainly a city that never sleeps – not because of the crazy night life (it’s dead after about 10.30 pm) but because they insist on waking you up at four in the morning by jet-washing the sidewalks, closely followed by the dawn chorus of freight trains that honk incessantly to each other for no apparent reason.  It has at least meant I’ve been getting up early and today I was able to beat the line to get inside the Alamo. I had not realised that a good third of those who died defending the place were English, Scots, Irish or Welsh, standing full square with Travis, Crockett and Bowie. As you can see, I have adopted Texan garb (well, a hat) for my photo in recognition of those brave few.

There’s quite a lot going on here in addition to the conference. We’ve just survived St Patrick’s Day which I have also observed over the years in other American cities. This is a long held US tradition where people with more Klingon than Celtic lineage, dress up in green, eat and drink green things and dye anything else green that they can.  In the case of San Antonio, that includes the river that meanders through the centre. I can claim an Irish grandparent but chose to celebrate with half a bottle of red wine (steady now) and some fried shrimps ‘to go’.
It is also ‘Spring Break’, which the films and TV would have us believe involves hundreds of young and attractive college students being lewd, louche and loose to the shame of many and the amusement of all.  Around here it appears to consist mainly of harassed parents with young children trying to keep them entertained, or in other words, half term. There does seem to be a dearth of late teen – early twenties types so maybe they are living the spring break dream elsewhere, losing clothes, money, dignity and anything else that was intact when they arrived.  I’d love to be able to say I envied them but it sounds like hard work and I’m anything for an easy life. Happy St Patrick’s Day, y’all