Imagine the challenge: You're in a classroom at the Humanities Building on the U-Wisconsin campus in Madison. The room is full of some 40 indymedia activists from across the United States who have never before all been in the same place at the same time. You haven't eaten lunch yet, and yet you willingly surrender your lunch hour (on a Saturday!) to bond with this crowd and to (1) assemble a meeting agenda, (2) complete it in no more than 90 minutes, and (3) eat.

For some reason, that's what I volunteered for. But fortunately, I had some help. There was already a sketch outline of an agenda to worked with, so I didn't have to assemble an agenda de novo. Moreover, I had some practice moderating nearly a year's worth of biweekly meetings for Chicago Media Action as its president.

But my needs were incidental, because...well, I like to quote the principle articulated in "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan"--"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few...or the one."

I asked two things from the group. (1) Let's use a queue--first one in, first one out (typical practice). (2) If you have a name tag, please show it so I can call on you.

I won't give a minute-by-minute recount of the caucus. I didn't take minutes. And I refer those who are interested in specific details to check the minutes if and when they get posted.

I will say this though: Despite all the differences that were put into the pressure cooker of that caucus, I felt that the participants shared some key, deep assumptions. Get things done. Don't waste time. Respect others. Understand their concerns. And I am absolutely convinced that these shared assumptions made all the difference.

Meetings can be hobbled by any number of things. My biggest moderating pet peeve is people talking too much or too long. Save the soliloquys for the political theater workshop, Hamlet. And that was my biggest fear when I swallowed my pride and said "I'll moderate". Luckily, this wasn't a problem. Everyone opted to keep their comments comparatively short and to the point.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CONTAINTS POSSIBLY EXCESSIVE EGO GRATIFICATION. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

When the caucus drew to a close, I got a round of applause at the end (I took a bow and blew a kiss to the group), while some people spontaneously said to me "Good moderating". Then I turned the focus to Indymedia, when I reminded the group that Indymedia is about to have its fourth birthday. That really got some applause.

I have been receiving nothing less than glowing comments about my moderating performance from everyone who attended. Believe me, I appreciate the comments. More than anything, I'm just grateful that I didn't, as my sister would say, screw up royally.

And yet, I will (perhaps unjustifiably) forever underplay my role in the caucus. Regardless what anyone and everyone says, no one will convince me from my (perhaps irrational) belief that my role in the caucus was very, very small. If there was a hierarchy in that room, I would say that I was the low man on the totem pole; everyone else in that caucus held a higher position. I was merely the maestro; everyone else played a real, honest-to-goodness musical instrument, and played it very well.

And yet, even an orchestra with the world's most skilled musicians can't create a harmonious whole without a reasonably okay maestro. Perhaps. I still count myself lucky that maestro and orchestra made beautiful music together.

To everyone who attended the caucus: It's been real. Let me know how I can be of further service. Drop me a line when you have time.