The business of getting to and from a meeting isn't the piece of cake it used to be. Recent case in point: For the January Professional Convention Management Association's annual meeting, my boss and I had to arrive at the airport on a Sunday morning two hours before our two-and-a-half-hour flight to Nashville took off. Our checked bags were searched, and we were both asked to take off our shoes, while Betsy was painstakingly wanded by a man who, frankly, gave us both the creeps. OK, we ...

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