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Gormangate Schadenfreude

‘”I was mugged,” Gorman said afterward. “He did not deliver the speech he told us ten days earlier that he would deliver.”‘

So Gorman feels Andre Codrescu hijacked his keynote at Midwinter by switching topics midstream. Perhaps Gorman has some inkling at this point what it’s like to think you’re inviting someone to the table to talk about one set of issues, only to have them betray you before the cock crows three times.

I missed hearing Codrescu. I had one meeting that ended halfway through, so I began walking toward the convention center, only to run into one or another Important Person I Needed To Speak With, and by the time I showed up, the hordes were streaming out of the center and toward the shuttles.

“He brought up some tired old topic,” said a friend as we headed toward a chic little bar for blood orange margaritas and serious gossip. Oh really? I thought. “Cuba,” she said. We agreed that it was strange Codrescu wasted his moment to talk on behalf of New Orleans. But never mind. The blood orange margaritas were delicious, the night was enchanting and became more so, and the Midwinter ALA President’s Program was far, far from my mind.

The difference between Codrescu and Gorman is that Codrescu grew up in Communist Romania so has authentic experience to back up his comments, while Gorman, when he speaks of blogs or Google or the Patriot Act, is innocent of real experience.

Just six more months, and Gorman–or Gumby, as he is called in some corners–will be the past-president, and the New York Times won’t phone the director of some library in Fresno to get his take on the latest techno-digital issues. I’ve got my short-timer’s calendar at the ready.

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