For example, this afternoon I went to a meeting at the Department of Housing and Urban Development. In addition to rhyming with "thud," H.U.D. has the bad fortune of being located in southwest Washington, DC, which is generally isolated and filled with big office buildings and not much else. Upon arriving at H.U.D., I was immediately shuttled to a security desk, whereupon I waited in line for twenty minutes behind eight other people, each of whom was required to present an I.D. (the information from which was entered into a computer) and then stand behind a piece of tape on the ground and stare into a camera. Then they were given an official visitor's pass, complete with photo. After this I went through an x-ray machine and metal detector set-up and had to be wanded by the security guy after setting off the alarm. Then I was led past a series of security checkpoints through doors that locked behind me.
In other words, going to a meeting at H.U.D. involves experiencing, in rapid succession, the charms of the DMV, airport security, and prison.
The meeting itself was interesting and full of friendly, smart folks. I learned, for example, that people and organizations that are in the business of building new housing in economically distressed neighborhoods are called "housers." But it was a relief to go back to a normal, friendly think tankish work environment, and these kinds of things mater.
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