Things get done by people who:

1. Know what needs to be done.
2. Have an inclination/reason to get it done.
3. Can command the necessary resources (money/labor/space/materials/
etc.) to get it done.
4. Have the requisite experience/expertise/knowledge/tools to get it
done.
5. Have the time to get it done.
6. Can stay focused long enough and/or often enough to get it done.
7. Have the requisite authority/permission to get it done.....or do it
anyway.

It has been my good fortune to know a good few such people off and on
throughout my life. They have been a constant source of inspiration
and admiration. I have also been fortunate in actually being such a
person (admittedly by sheer happenstance and on a modest scale) on
rare occasions. The latter, I think, gives one an even greater
appreciation of those who do it regularly and with evident ease.

In the last year and a half, it has been my great good fortune to meet
a few folks who routinely get things done, and done well, with
appallingly evident ease.

And it happened again.....in spades.....these last three days.

It started last weekend when Larry reminded me of the impending visit
of three heavy hitters from a major university in Michigan who were
scheduled to visit the tree farm. Larry graciously refrained from
telling me that three bodies and three beds would preclude yet another
invasion by the erstwhile tree farmer from Milwaukee. He said I could
stay at the condo in La Crosse. I refrained from expressing my horror
at the suggestion of sleeping in a condo in La Crosse. I said I would
tent it at the tree farm. He was horrified at the thought of anyone
sleeping out in the....the.....well.....under the....um.....stars and
****.....with all the animals and dew and bugs and.....etc. I
suggested that, having survived similar experiences on numerous
occasions in the past, the odds were even (or perhaps even better)
that I could do so again.

The proposition was never tested, the experiment was never conducted.
The heavens opened up on Wednesday evening.....angel pee
everywhere.....in short, it started raining early in the evening. I
slept on the floor.....with the dog. Though small and of dubious
aroma, she is warm and affectionate. But that is beside the point, I
suppose.

By then, the biologists had arrived, a late supper of steak and baked
potatoes, with a side salad and lots of good beer (about as good as
boy could come up with fast and easy at 9:00 p.m.), had been consumed,
introductions and CV had been exchanged, something vaguely resembling
a plan for the morning had been sketched, refined, and ratified, and
much storytelling had transpired, replete with inside jokes from all
and sundry which left the ins grinning or roaring with laughter and
the outs nodding, smiling, and utterly bemused. Oh yeah, and a lot of
biology and internal departmental politics and personalities flew in
smoking hot streaks back and forth across the room. A boy is tempted
to say that it was all he could do to keep up......but he
didn't.....quite. Pretty close, though. Same tools (mostly), same
techniques (pretty much), similar protocols (more or less), same
reagents (here and there).....WAY different critters.....Dan (not his
real name), a plant pathologist, tells the story of a friend who
originally trained as a botanist and then moved to human physiology.
You cannot imagine how EASY! human DNA is, the friend informs him.
Larry and I busily knit our brows. The others (Tony and
Justin.....not their real names.....from Michigan.....and
Angela.....not her real name.....from the local university) smile
broadly and nod wisely.

Hm.....

Larry leaves. Yeah, it's his place.....but there's only three beds.
He's staying in the condo tonight.

Dan looks at me and says (and I quote), "O.k., why are we here?"

Uh oh.

Ummmmm........................................

Ummmmm........................................

Angela comes to the rescue. She explains, in broad terms, the
research project that her grad students Cassie and Astrid (not their
real names) are engaged in, what they hope to do in the future, what
Larry would like to see come of it, and what we all hope to gain from
the current visitation. I (rather wisely, I think) nod vigorously,
smile broadly, and strive manfully not to think of other places I'd
rather be just at this moment. Discussion ensues. A provisional plan
is agreed upon. We will have breakfast in the morning.....and then
wait for Larry.....if he has not already arrived. I nod, slowly and
deliberately, as though not entirely convinced but willing enough to
abide by the apparent consensus in lieu of a better idea.
In due course, morning arrives. Breakfast is designed, executed, and
consumed by committee. It is surprisingly good. Larry, having not
yet arrived, does not get a vote. However, arriving before the
consummation is completed, he is allotted a full share and tucks in
with gusto. Everybody is happy. Senta (her real name), has been
visibly and unmistakably jubilant every waking moment since my arrival
some 36 hours earlier. This would be an unequivocal annoyance in
anyone other than a coal black schnauzer pup (the aforementioned small
dog). Even so, it is starting to wear thin.

Beth and Eric (their real names) arrive. Beth and Eric own a small
forestry business. Not surprisingly, in the coulee country, their
business sense is tempered by a rather bewildering amalgam of New Age,
Hippie, Astrological, Biodynamic, Holistic, Nativist, Herbal,
Pragmatic sensibilities. Beth and Eric are also old friends and
sometime part time employees of Larry's. They have at least as large
a stake in the current proceedings as anyone. They also have more
experience on the ground in this locale than anyone but Larry
himself. Beth, as Larry often proclaims, does the work of two men.
Eric has bigass digger machines and a portable bandsaw mill (well, a
borrowed mill, but it cuts just the same).

We have, not just a quorum......we got the whole shebang!

Dan says....."So?"

Beth (or Angela.....I forget) says, let's go for a walk up to the
orchard (the orchard comprises the newest plantings, from two to four
or five years ago, and contains the trees of greatest interest to the
visiting dignitaries.....for reasons that space does not permit me to
go into here.) I say why don't we just all pile into the Gators and
ride up? I see several nodding heads. And then I see Beth and Angela
looking at me in a manner that is indescribable but with which every
man who has ever known woman knows and dreads. We have the women
outnumbered 3:1 (well, actually, 6:2......but, close enough). We all
agree that it is a very nice day for a walk.

For the next four hours we wander, in ever changing aggregates of
humans and one small dog, over the eastern half of Larry's 80 acres,
peering, kneeling, squatting, discussing, peeling, paring, poking,
prying, questioning, answering, pondering, debating, lying prone on
bellies and backs, rubbing, smelling, photographing, remembering,
philosophizing, planning, collecting, discarding, theorizing,
suggesting, digging, and wondering.

By the time we head back downhill, everybody, including (MAINLY
including) Larry, knows what we all knew before any of us arrived and
the adventure began. The chestnuts are doomed.....period.
Well.....ALMOST period. There's hypovirulence.

Hypovirulence. There is a virus.....well, actually a tribe of
viruses.....that ingest and otherwise thrive on the Cryphonectria
fungus, the villain in the American chestnut drama. There are many
strains of Cryphonectria, so it is a good thing that there are also
many strains of the virus that attacks and weakens them. But it DOES
make life complicated. As luck would have it, Larry's setup, diverse
plantings, loving attention to the trees, and record keeping make his
holding a textbook example of the perfect laboratory for the proposed
experiment.

Angela, Cassie and Astrid get the ready made lab to do with as they
will. Beth, Eric, Larry, Becky and I are relieved of the
responsibility of caring for the chestnuts (in fact, the policy will
be strictly hands off for us.....except for clearing out the
unmistakably dead). We have that much more time to devote to the
butternuts (also doomed.....but that a whole nother long story.....for
another time), walnuts, hazels and sundry other minor characters.
Justin gets much needed samples and data for his PhD. dissertation on
the evolution of Cryphonectria, Tony, ditto for his statistical
analyses. Dan? Well, what Dan gets out of the deal is a bit more
complicated.....and subtle. Dan is on the Castanea A-list. Dan is
pretty much at the top of the Castanea A-list. There really isn't
much more for Dan to get out of any of this. Dan just gets to make it
happen.

And it happens like this......

When we get back to the house there is much discussion about how to
get the project rolling, who is going to fund it, how the funding will
be managed, who will do the management, and a very LONG list of other
considerations. The bottom line is that this isn't something that a
bunch of people can make happen just by agreeing that it needs to
happen. Fortunately, similar situations have been coming up for a
long long time, and there are well developed institutions and
procedures in place for dealing with them. Universities have
organizational and administrative tools at their disposal for just
such situations. So does the federal government. While we discuss
details, ask questions, raise objections, and generally chew on a host
of considerations, Larry quietly dials a phone number.

A moment later the house falls quiet when Larry says hello Max (not
his real name) who has worked for the Forest Service (USDA) for 35 or
a hundred fifty or something years, do you know Dan? Yeah, says Max.
Larry explains that a foundation is to be set up to conduct a years
long intensive Cryphonectria management experiment on his property and
that some startup funds will be required. He hands the phone to Dan,
who reminds Max of a few long ago shared adventures of one sort or
another. They laugh. Then they get down to business. It takes all
of four minutes. Dan hangs up the phone.

Approval must await the next application and funding cycle.....a
matter of a few months. This means exactly nothing. The deal is
done. The funding will appear. The work will go forward. The world
has turned.

So much for academic detachment from real world phenomena. So much
for governmental bureaucratic inertia.

That's how **** gets done.

Kind of amazing.

Kind of scary.

g.
who suspects he will somehow get no less busy.