The panel was all fidgets and legs. Three needed a haircut. Each panelist sported a blazer, unless “sport” means no tie, and a few sported those, there you are . Two were well over six foot tall and all had a slouch that conveyed not edginess or exhaustion, but determination and uncertainty of outcome.
The panel was all fidgets and legs. The moderator cherry-picked the question and answer session, but that can’t be proven, so why write about it?
The panel was all fidgets and legs. No one drank from his water bottle, but gripped and fussed with it instead. One panelist peeled off his label. This did not happen, but the action adds tension and provides a visual that matches the tenor of the evening.
The panel was all fidgets and legs. The participant with a stylish, well-maintained haircut spoke loudly and powerfully. His humor had a dark edge, but was so well-defended that no hostility was generated. He should have succeeded, too: he was the best dressed, he was fit, his spine was straight and he looked all of nineteen. And, the kicker: he knew the subject matter cold.
The panel was all fidgets and legs. The artists, those with creative capital, asked questions that begged cynical, defeatist answers. Perhaps this was because the artists were outnumbered by technical pros and contract experts – in other words, individuals with steady paychecks.
The panel was all fidgets and legs. After delivering informative, thoughtful content, agreeing to disagree and reaching consensus that the subject matter’s volatility belied a fixed conclusion , the meeting ended. Networking ensued, but of the stunted variety. At 7pm, there were places to go and issues to avoid.