Among my many character quirks, I seem to be constitutionally unable to travel anywhere out of the ordinary unless there’s a speaking engagement involved. This not only makes for a great deal of family tension over vacation destinations (which almost invariably are university towns, most of which lack the white sand beaches and other amenities my daughter is understandably partial to when thinking of vacations), but it also is the principal reason that for more than 30 years, I never managed to make it to any kind of reunion—high school, college, graduate school, or even summer camp. It never was for want of interest—I always wondered what it might be like to attend a reunion but never could justify the travel involved to satisfy that curiosity. So, when the 30th Reunion Committee of the Yale Class of 1975 invited me to serve as a member of a discussion panel, I jumped at the chance. Never mind that the invitation was to serve on a panel discussion on bioterrorism, a subject area in which I have no distinguished credentials. The extent of my claim to any expertise at all was the fact that I was one of 16 reviewers of a National Research Council report on agricultural bioterrorism (NAS 2002). Although this study had been commissioned by the Board on Agriculture and Natural Resources, on which I served a term and currently serve as chair, the study was actually conducted during the interval when I was neither on the Board nor Chair of the Board—making my connection to agricultural bioterrorism even more tenuous. Although I do work on insects, and although insects could conceivably be involved in acts of agricultural bioterrorism, the insects I work with have little terrorism potential; the black swallowtail, Papilio polyxenes, may pose a threat to America’s parsley crop, but somehow I think our great nation can survive the challenge of steaks with no garnish. It seemed odd to me that a reunion committee thought a discussion of bioterrorism would be appropriate entertainment for returning alumni—but, since I had so little previous reunion experience, I thought maybe my notion that reunions were for getting together with old friends and trying to remember the lyrics to Cat Stevens songs was perhaps out of step with reality. And it turns out that the panel discussion was well attended, at least in part because the other panel discussion that had been organized, on the difficulties faced by Yale alumni living abroad, had to be cancelled because not enough of the panelists, all Yale alumni living abroad, had managed to make it to the reunion. What surprised me most about the reunion, though, was how few of the people I knew really well while I was an undergraduate at Yale attended the reunion, and how many people that I swear I’d never seen before were actually my classmates. Among the classmates I would have liked to see again was Brandon Centerwall, who was briefly the freshman-year roommate of my best friend Robert; Robert’s erratic hours and professed fondness for licit and illicit psychotropic substances eventually drove Brandon to find alternate living arrangements before the end of first semester. After graduating from Yale, Brandon went on to medical school and became an epidemiologist. He gained no small measure of fame in the field thanks to a series of papers linking television-watching with violent behavior (Centerwall 1989, 1992). In his 1989 study, Brandon compared the relationship between television ownership and homicide rates in the United States and Canada from roughly 1945 to 1975 with the homicide rate in South Africa over the same time period, during which time television broadcasts were banned. Whereas homicides declined by 7% in South Africa over the period, they essentially doubled in the United YIKES! Forget jogging! I think watching TV would be healthier for me!