It sure has been quiet here, ainna? Well, gentle reader, this weekend I traveled to Davenport, Iowa, for CornCon 2024, a cybersecurity conference at which my beautiful wife spoke. The conference was on Friday and Saturday, but we rolled up some US highways through the river country to reach one of the Quad Cities on Thursday. And I was too shy to ask the locals what the fourth of the quad is. I mean, I know Rock Island, Moline, and Davenport. But what is the fourth? Bettendorf? Spoiler alert: It was East Moline according to Wikipedia; before East Moline was added, it was the Tri-Cities, and after Bettendorf grew, some people took to calling it “Quint Cities” but that has not become as popular. It also explains why some businesses I saw were named Tri Cities something and one was Quint Cities something.
At any rate, I ended up attending only five of the sessions as cybersecurity, especially at the executive level, ain’t my bag, baby. But I spent a couple of hours walking around the downtown area of Davenport along the river. It’s a nice little city, but it has its panhandlers and homeless like other cities.
On our way to dinner on Thursday night, my wife said it was the return of City Brian. I asked her what she meant, and she said that I was a little more purposeful. Which is I guess her way of saying that I assume a more assertive posture and walk faster in the city. I certainly adopt a “Don’t mess with me, man” attitude. And when she asked if I had my lanyard and convention pass at one point, I pointed out that I had the lanyard looped around my belt and the badge tucked into my pocket because wearing a conference badge outside of the conference center is like saying, “Pick me, some dude!”
You know, I guess that’s a habit of mine where I go, the little local recon a couple of blocks around where I am staying; I did the same when I traveled for business to Chicago in 2022. I just like to know where things are around me, the restaurants and bars, the groceries, the other shops. I also strolled briefly on the riverfront–on late Saturday morning around 10:30, a 5K was finishing up–they must have started later than the ones do down here, which begin at 7am or 8am. A bandshell held a single guy with a guitar and some backing MP3s singing some Dave Matthews songs–that bandshell seemingly had a band constantly, as we could hear them if we stepped onto Brady Street at any time of day or evening. I strolled through a car show, and another singer or band was playing at a farmer’s market down the road. I wandered past the Scott County Courthouse, police headquarters, city hall, and a Federal courthouse on 4th Street. The symphony hall was attached to the conference center, and during one afternoon session on Friday, I heard the trumpet warming up in the hallway outside the theater which had been set up for a gala that night. So it was like a real city, for sure. My wife said it seemed more like a city than Springfield, but that’s probably mostly because the buildings were taller. In the business districts and downtown here, the buildings top out at four or five stories.
Was there a book store a block away? Yes. But you’ll hear a little more about that later.
On Sunday, we attended church in Davenport and then drove over to the Milwaukee area since we were almost there (almost meaning a three hour drive, but that is two thirds of the way). I visited my father’s grave. I visited my 96-year-old grandmother, probably for the last time (which I think every time I see her every couple of years). I stopped in on my half-brother whom I have not actually seen in person for seventeen years (!). I mean, I’ve been in touch with him via text message every couple of months and I did a video call with a couple years (a decade?) ago, but I haven’t seen him since the family reunion in Wisconsin on my oldest son’s first birthday (as it happens, it was his youngest’s first birthday, leading me to wonder if we are only destined to meet on first birthdays). He’s been in Massachussetts and Arizona for most of that time, and the last time I was in Wisconsin, he was moving that day so he didn’t have time to get together. But, still. Seventeen years. Sobering.
On Monday, we drove back from Wisconsin. We stopped in St. Louis for lunch, and I left some flowers at my mother’s grave, which means that I visited both of my parents’ graves on consecutive days which is a feat I am unlikely to repeat. Actually, I wonder if I’ll ever make it home to Wisconsin again.
We made it home safely before sunset last night to find that our boys, left to their own devices now that they’re eighteen and sixteen, did not handle the responsibility very well at all. Which is unfortunate, as it will give us pause in planning other trips without the boys.
So I am back at it. Unfortunately, I did not read a lot on the trip, but I did listen to a lecture series. Stay tuned.