The big picture

I love looking at photos of Earth shot from outer space. Sometimes, we can find intricate patterns among sand dunes, icebergs and cloud formations. You can see a bunch of cool satellite and astronaut photos here.

Travel gives you the business

Nothing says "business trip" like a shrieking fire alarm in a motel at three o'clock in the morning.

I was reminded of this in San Francisco, where I traveled for business and several tax-deductible meals in expensive restaurants. I was in my "firm" motel bed, regularly tossing and turning so I wouldn't end up like a pizza -- lumpy on one side and absolutely flat on the other -- when the alarm went off in the hallway, just outside my room.

Smelling no smoke, I proceeded to violate all fire evacuation rules, taking time to use the bathroom and throw on some clothes, including a jacket and shoes. Made sure I had my wallet, my cell phone and other necessities. Then I helped motel employees herd the rest of the blinking guests outdoors into a refreshing light rain.

Fire trucks screamed up. Sleepy-looking firefighters checked out the building, and declared the shrieking to be a false alarm. After thirty minutes, we guests were allowed to return to our rooms, where it took mere hours to fall asleep again.

Getting no sleep in motels is an accepted fact of business trips. There's always something. If it's not a fire alarm, it's the phone trilling with a wrong number or a drunken party down the hall or an oversexed couple in the next room.

Maybe it's different for those of you who fly first-class and stay in swank, soundproof hotel rooms and have to really work to spend your substantial per diem. But for the rest of us, business travel can be one long chorus of, "Oh, how I want to go home."

Here are some of the other harsh realities of life on the road:

--You will catch a cold during your trip. Shaking all those hands. Breathing the recirculated air on commercial flights. You'll pick up a virus and bring it home to your whole family, who will not appreciate the souvenir.

--Despite your sudden illness, you will gain weight on your business trip. Too much rich food, too much high-calorie booze, not enough exercise.

--No matter how well you pay attention or how many mnemonic devices you employ, you will forget a client's name. At the worst possible moment.

--Despite the big "Hello, my name is" badge you're forced to wear, someone important will forget your name, or call you by the wrong name, or admit they've never heard of you. This will make you briefly miserable.

--You will accumulate many business cards on your trip. When you get home, you'll have no idea who's who.

--When you're on an airplane, your fellow passengers will not attempt to strike up a conversation unless you're trying to quietly read. Or sleep. Then you won't be able to shut them up, short of stuffing their mouths with the airline's tiny pillows.

--You will watch too much idiotic television in your hotel room. There's no help for it. You've got to do something while you're not sleeping all night.

--At least one of your many restaurant meals will be a real disappointment.

--Overeating will fill you with regret, among other things.

--Somewhere along the way, you'll get lost in a rental car. Just long enough to make you late.

--You'll arrive at an appointment only to find that the people there had no idea you were coming, and no record of your company.

--You will miss your family, while discovering anew how annoying other people can be.
Particularly those who set off fire alarms.

There's a reason for these harsh realities. They make you happy for the business trip to end.

Repeat after me: "There's no place like home. There's no place like home."

Hello, my name is . . . I forget

The world would be a better place, filled with less animosity and anxiety, if we all wore name tags.

Cocktail parties, school events and church services wouldn't be so nerve-wracking if everyone wore the simple first-name-only badges typically worn at business conventions -- "Hello! My name is ILLEGIBLE SCRAWL."

Name badges would have many benefits to society, but the main reason for adopting such a system is this: I can't remember anybody's name anymore.

This could be a side effect of working alone at home. When I was reporter, out in the world, meeting people all the time, I was pretty good at putting names with faces. Now, I can't even recall the names of close relations, such as my children.

(This forgetfulness could also be a product of advancing age, but let's not go there.)

Though I work mostly in solitude, I sometimes go out in public for conventions and bookstore appearances. Also, my wife often drags me along to public events as "arm candy."

During these outings, I shake hands with many, many people and introduce myself each time. They say their names back, and I smile and nod, recognizing that I'm lost. The exchange has barely cleared my ears, but my brain already has filed the names in the overflowing trash bin of the forgotten.

This instantaneous forgetfulness requires that I fall back on deception and guile. Here's my guilty secret: Whenever I'm out in public, I call all the women "darlin'" and all the men "buddy" or "partner," as in "Hello, darlin'," or "Hey there, partner, how ya been?" This makes me appear friendly and casual, instead of a "space case" who can't recall the names of those he met as recently as one minute earlier.

At events where people wear name badges, I'm not forced to resort to such trickery. We all go around staring at each other's chests, but at least we avoid embarrassing name mistakes, such as calling a woman "Bill." Not that I've ever done that.

We should adopt name badges nationwide. We could bypass the sticky temporary badges in favor of fancy embroidery, such as you'll find on the shirts of bowlers and mechanics.

(I've noticed that the great majority of such shirts say, "Larry.")

Wouldn't life be less tense if we were all on a first-name basis? Wouldn't we be happier without the fear of forgetting the names of important people, such as our bosses? Wouldn't the loss of anonymity make us behave ourselves?

("Yes, officer, now that you mention it, the bank robber was wearing a shirt with his name on it. Put out an APB for someone named Larry.")

So, come on, America. Run right out and get some name badges. It's the one sure way for us all to get universal recognition. Someday, we'll know each other on sight, and we'll always get the names right.

Until that grand day arrives, I'll call you "darlin'" or "partner."

You can call me "Larry."

Let's do lunch

For those of us who work at home, the occasional business lunch can be an opportunity to network with new contacts and develop strong, long-term business relationships. It's also an opportunity to fall flat on our faces into our oyster bisque.

At-home workers get out of practice when it comes to dining with others. We often spend the day in our pajamas, noshing on whatever's handy, washing it down with copious amounts of coffee. When you work all by yourself, no one's there to disapprove as you graze all day. If you want to eat Ding-Dongs for breakfast, so be it. Olives out of the jar make a dandy lunch you can eat right at the computer. And who needs a napkin when you're wearing absorbent flannel pajamas?

But when a boss or business contact summons us to a lunch out, we must mind our manners. Remember, a business lunch isn't about food. It's about making an impression. No matter how light and lively the conversation, it can be ruined if you have spinach wedged between your teeth and ketchup on your shirtfront.

Here, then, are some rules to follow when attending a business lunch:

--A bathrobe is not proper business attire. Dining out means you're required to wear actual clothes. This can be a problem for the at-home worker, especially if a steady diet of Ding-Dongs means none of your pants fit anymore.

--Dark, solid colors work best because they don't show spills or sweat. Beyond that, you want spills and drips to blend in with whatever you're wearing. For instance, if you're wearing a white shirt, it's better to order a white pasta sauce than a red one. If you're a real pig at the table, you might want to stick with wild patterns, such as Hawaiian shirts. These aren't particularly business-like, but they'll hide a multitude of sins. And remember: Neckties are for dipping.

--Bibs are out, unless you're eating lobster. Keep your napkin spread across your lap and trust gravity to take care of the rest.

--Avoid messy foods such as soup, spaghetti, sloppy joes, tacos, chili dogs, spare ribs, buffalo wings, cheeseburgers, mashed potatoes with gravy, eggs benedict. A good rule of thumb: If it looks good, you can't have it, it's too messy. Try ordering plain lettuce. Careful not to get it wedged between your teeth.

--Follow your host's lead when it comes to ordering. If your host orders something light and inexpensive, better not to order the rack of lamb yourself. When you're paying, order something in the right price range so your guest can follow your example. Again, plain lettuce works.

--Order the same number of courses as your host. That way, you won't still be scarfing dessert while he's looking at his watch.

--Skip the booze, even if your host consumes the traditional three martinis. Somebody's got to drive him back to his office.

--Don't flirt with the waitress. It's unseemly, even if she started it.

--Don’t ask a lot of questions of the waiter. This makes you appear picky and weird. If you don't recognize a particular sauce or entrée listed on the menu, then order something else. There's always lettuce.

--Don't ridicule the waiter when he offers "fresh ground pepper with that." Sure, there's pepper right there on the table, but the waiter has to ask. It's his job.

--Don't talk with your mouth full. Yes, you're excited about your ideas and you want to squeeze every topic you can into this business lunch. But clients are turned off by the sight of chewed food. Trust us.

--Toothpicks are to be used in private places, such as in your car. Ditto for dental floss.

--When the meal is over, stand up from the table and brush the crumbs from your lap. Confidently shake hands and give your lunch partner a big smile. That way, he can see for himself that you have gravy on your sleeve and lettuce between your teeth.

--Don't loiter. Drive straight home, picking your teeth along the way. Change into your pajamas, all the while congratulating yourself on another successful business lunch.

To celebrate, break out the Ding-Dongs.