Whither Infectious Diseases? Memories, Manpower, and Money

I am most grateful to my old friend Paul Quie for asking me to speak at this meeting. It is just like being allowed to give a Presidential Address without being President. I do want you to know, however, that I am a card-carrying member of the Infectious Diseases Society, who, if not faithful in attendance, at least is not delinquent in dues. As a matter of fact, on a number of occasions I have paid the registration fee for this meeting only to forfeit it by a lastminute necessity to be absent. I am also one of the survivors of the hearty band that started the Society 22 years ago. Many of the original 149 have resigned, a few have been thrown out, and there are several who are looking down upon us from that great big Pus Club in the sky. In fact, some of you might consider me in this category, because the difference between being dean and being dead is only a single letter. I tried to find out something about the pathogenesis of this Society, so I called the Society's oracle, my old friend Ed Kass. The oracle was, as is not unusual for him, in London. He returned my call soon after alighting back in Boston. Unfortunately, he could not add much to the printed words in several recent Presidential addresses. The fact is that not