I turn the card over; it says "Haileybury School of Mines" (a school he never attended, mind you) on it, and has another chart of the relationship between wind speed and temperature, which seems to present what we now call wind chill factor, but is not so named on this card. I ask him why he has this, particularly in his wallet, though I should know better than to ask such questions by now. He pulls out another little card that has the ASL alphabet on it and another one with the Periodic Table of Elements, and says, "For the same reason I have these." I think, because you haven't got enough stuff to carry around. You should see all the crap he lugs around. He used to carry a planisphere at all times in his knapsack. But, you know, it's a large part of why I love him. I ask, "Can I keep this card and write about it in my recap?" He says, in a little-boy voice, "You're going to make fun of me, aren't you?" I admit, "Just a little." He goes away pouting, "Fine." On his way upstairs, he promises to get me an exact conversion for thirty-four nautical miles. I tell him I'll breathlessly await that. Meanwhile, I read the back of the card, which indicates that winds of sixty-four kilometres an hour are gale force winds which have the following effects: "Breaks twigs off trees; walking made difficult; slight structural damage occurs, e.g. to roofing shingles, TV antennae, etc.; blowing snow reduces..." and the last word is, amusingly (to me, anyway), rendered nearly unreadable from rubbing and tattering, but I can just barely interpolate it: "visibility." Frink shouts down that it's actually 62.9 miles, so I'm impressed that he estimated sixty-four. Anyway, Sorkin and Schlamme are no pikers when it comes to bringing the Sturm und Drang. I wonder if they have a budget line for "pathetic fallacy." Jesus, where were we? I've just about digressed past my deadline here. Donna was dropping science on storms for POTUS. He confirms that there's a season for such storms, and she indicates that it's June 1 through November 30. He asks, "How many times, say, in the last hundred years, has a tropical storm come up the Atlantic seaboard to Washington in the middle of May?" Donna says that it hasn't happened in the last century, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. At all. Someone knocks; it's C.J. He thanks Donna and she leaves. He may not have offered her the job yet, but the whole thing had the feel of an interview.