On the Cusp

I'm on the cusp of a decision. The fact that the deadline is tomorrow evening at five o'clock, Indiana time, for arriving at an answer—at least at the inexpensive, "early bird" price—doesn't help with creative problem solving.

Next August 22 through 25 is the annual conference of the Federation of Genealogical Societies. And I just happen to now be president of a local genealogical society—a society which, incidentally, belongs to FGS. One would think it would be prudent of me, in my new role, to step up and show my face where such folk gather.

Besides, this year the FGS conference is being held in Fort Wayne. Remember that second largest genealogical library in the United States? Yep, the one in Allen County, Indiana, is, by default, in Fort Wayne. Like, across the street from the convention center. Talk about a magnet to pull in researchers. I certainly enjoy taking my genealogical problems to the Allen County Public Library's Genealogy Center—in person even better than online.

Something, however, is painting this entire opportunity a vague color of gray. Yes, the conference schedule is studded with superlative speakers—I know, because I've already heard so many of them—and great networking chances to connect with like-minded society board members. Could it be that I'm just getting weary of traveling so far to enjoy that scintillating learning environment?

The costs of attending a conference can spiral. It's not so bad when I just hop in the car and drive for a full day's work behind the wheel. But flying is another matter—an exhausting, expensive one. And face it: air fare is just one line item on the expenditure report. There are meals, hotel costs, even rental car expenses to contend with, as well. I might want to network on behalf of my newfound presidential role, but not that much.

On the other hand, I had the best time at the last conference I attended—the Southern California Genealogical Society's Jamboree. I'm ripe for partaking of another event like that. Face it: a genealogical fanatic can thrive in such a milieu. And I'm always up for that. It's just the getting there that drags me down.

By the end of the day on Sunday, July 1—well, to be precise, at three in the afternoon, my time—I'll need to make a decision. If only I could teleport to Fort Wayne next August, I'd have my mind made up yesterday.