As much as I like science fiction, fantasy, and games, it may be hard to fathom that I’ve never been to a “Con” before. I’d visited, briefly, a Star Trek convention, but it was more vendors selling stuff that anything exciting.
Oh sure, I’ve been to training classes, seminars, computer conferences, security conferences, hacker conferences, but nothing quite like this.
DragonCon is about one MegaMeter (1000km) from my home. Meaning, it was approximately a 13hr ride in the car. And, going down with friends, especially the kind that attend “cons” all the time, you can only imagine what the conversations were like, especially during pitstops.
Wendy’s in Woodstock, VA was slower than I’d ever seen it. It took literally 35 minutes to process 4 people. While we were standing in line, an indecisive member of the group asked “What are you getting?” After a momentary pause of looking at the cashier, “At this rate, dinner.”
Instead of butter for the baked potato, they serve something that’s “buttery like.” Makes you want to enjoy your “meaty-like” burger. You know the one — it has protein in all the colors of the rainbow.
Even a decent sit-down meal had its quirks.
For instance, I’ve made the observation that women don’t just drink coffee… they have a relationship with it. They warm their hands, snuggle up to it, press their face to the cup, slowly inhale the scents. I’m throughly convinced that if coffee vibrated, they’d have no need for men.
I suspect all this will get ruined in the future, when in the age of instant we’ll hear old people say things like “Back in my day, we used to ingest coffee with our mouths. Have another Espresso Patch?” and then slap a rectangle adhesive filled with caffine on their arm.
For breakfast we hit Cracker Barrel. The place is themed with all kinds of old kitchenware and appliances, the kind you might have seen in the 1920s. That made me wonders, when I’m a zillion years old, will I be sitting in places that have Pampered Chef products glued to the walls with an old Intel Pentium processor sitting under glass? And instead of LP records, DVDs will be hung on the wall as obsolete memorials to media long since forgotten?
It certainly can’t be the food that brings people in the doors. I know. I’ve tried it. The older crowd must be brought in by nostalgia. Either that, or this is evidence that taste buds fail in later years as well.
Now when the con starts, it’s something like 8am. And that means if you are staying in a hotel across town, you need to get up early. I’m not a morning person. Oh sure, I may be perky in the morning, but that right there is a sign I’m still asleep. At that point I still need basic instructions like “Step 1: Put syrup on pancake. Step 2: Put pancake in head.”
Evenings were just as exciting. While the group went to Kroger’s, I decided to hang out in the car and get some rest for a minute while the others shopped. Of course, when one of them returned and opened the door, the car alarm was set off — and not having the key, there was nothing I could do about it. The owner of the car came running out of the store screaming, “Oh my god! Someone’s trying to steal Walt!!!”
I’m not sure what’s up with Atlanta, Georgia either. I mean the place looks like the Bible belt — if a Bible belt had strip joints, pole dancers, and adult book stores. And when you’re not quite awake, you read signs incorrectly. A double-take had to convince me that I did not see “Secretions: Frictional Lapdances” hanging on a big purple sign. It was the kind of advertising that strikes you — “We’ve turned undressing into creative loafing.”
Another sign I misread was “Self Sewage” instead of self storage. It’s weird when the eyes and brain don’t fully communicate.
DragonCon was also somewhere that it was dangerous to pickup up other people’s conversations in the middle. I kid you not, some guy walks by me as he explains to his buddy, “My foreskin… gone!” — it’s the kind of short phrase that leaves very strange imagery in your mind for long periods afterward.
Another case was when a girl was relaying her half of a conversation to her friends: “Ah ha! …you’re old enough to be my daddy.” Which, given the age of the person stating it, made you think twice about Gandolf in retrospect.
And another case someone a young lady walked by really confused announcing to her friends, “I’ve lost my pants.” I can’t even imagine how that’d happen in a crowed room.
While waiting at a conference table, some guy dressed as a cop and drinking a beer was going down the escalator. Someone passing by on the other direction asked “Nice costume, did you make it yourself?” The reply went as such, “Yeah.” (pause) “Actually, no.” (pause) “I found a cop and kicked his ass.”
I can see where that might save a buck going to a costume store, but I wouldn’t recommend the approach for the general public.
One thing that I did happily discover at DragonCon was FanGirls — proof that the female gender actually groks scifi and will even dress up as their favorite character. For the curious, the G-Rated pages on Wikipedia or even a mother nursing in public shows more intimate, revealing, and interesting places on the female form than were exposed at the con… just not as in an of interesting way. It’s like when you realize that the waitresses at Hooters are wearing more clothing with a looser fit than the general public at the local swimming hole.
I was surprised by the fact that normal attendees looked astonishingly good in their costumes, many quite professional. While at the same time, those that entered the Dawn look-a-like contest were far more “chunky” than the character they were trying to emulate. Not everyone can pull off spandex or short skirts. And a lot of people seemed to be out to prove this point.
The registration desk seemed to be struck by its own problems. People were fussing about this and that, and registration was saying they’d done everything to make it possible to pre-register so these folks wouldn’t have to stand in line. My thought? Invent a CrankyCon, and send all the whiners there.
At one point I was suffering from a headache brought on by lack of food. While rubbing my temples I almost fell asleep at the table, as I was trying to go to my happy place. I woke up shouting “there are Kingons in my happy place!” The laughs at the table made me wonder if they put them there.
I got them back, however, by folding my black napkin into a Darth Bunny. Darth Bunny can always make liquid shoot of out of people’s noses if he appears at just the right time.
DragonCon wasn’t without it’s quota of toilet tales either.
On the way down I-81, we stopped at a rest stop that had renovations going on. The bathrooms were closed, but they had a dozen porta-potties. Now I can say the following without prejuice or exageration: it was actually the cleanest porta-potty I’d ever been in. Locking door, no grafitti, no order, well stocked, no splatter. I’d eat off it — it was that clean.
Contrast this to the large obscure bathroom I found hiding in the hotel that had as many empty stalls as the matrix had gun racks. I pick one down at the far end, hoping no one will spend the time to come down this far. I was wrong. Some guy must have gotten lonely and wanted a neighbor. He wanders down, takes the stall right next to mine, and starts letting out this old-man poo smell. I would have rather had breathing lessons in an outhouse. gak!
Another time, I walk in, and a dad marches his little girl in. Not his baby, not his toddler, but his little girl. She stands with her back to the urinal, crosses her arms, and starts doing a line inspection. No friggin’ way I’m going there. Forget performance anxiety, I’m more concerned about a lawsuit.
Maybe, like grade school, kids need their own bathrooms. I’m listening to another conversation happening next door, “Just sit down and use the potty… Don’t bend over! …Look, you just put your badge in the potty.” “I know, it reeks,” came back tiny voice. “Leave it alone, don’t touch it.” “But it’s mine…”
I’ve got to say though, DragonCon certainly didn’t have the number of ‘incidents’ I expected it to. People there were kind, friendly, and unquestionably helpful. Once I needed a bag to carry some sodas, and some stranger took out some object he bought at a vendor table downstairs and handed me the bag, other people were kind enough to share food and drinks, people shared their place in line concentrating on keeping things moving instead of being territorial. It just convinces me that geeks are more polite than other social groups.
I was surprised, however, at how there is a wide diversity of the way actors treat cons, fans, and speaking. I got to talk with some actors, and it’s fairly clear, the majority of them don’t understand the larger picture of the series they play in, they don’t like watching themselves on television or in movies, and many of them loath their jobs. So when fans admire them for their work, their character, or what they represent — they take it with as much excitement as your dentist drilling a tooth. It’s sad. Autograph signing in profitable, but they really don’t seem to want to be there. I suspect they get over saturated with the same questions and it gets old.
While the rest of my group was playing games, I decided to walk the con and take photographs. I snagged about 3000 in all. (I hope to get them online this week.) A number will require photoshopping — which makes me think, Photoshop is like Digital Alcohol… a kind of Beer Goggle filter.
The ride back home was just as fun. We passed a large guy on a motorcycle who’s earlobes were flapping in the wind the same way that Jar Jar’s ears would.
I drunk way too much soda and iced-tea, and requested a non-emergency rest stop. However with bumps in the road, it was more like “Don’t try to be a hero, there’s a McDonald’s at the next exit.” (Take it! Take it!)
With McDonald’s sometimes you think the freshest thing they serve are the buns. Sometimes it’s the service. And that just makes you want to take a shower and crawl in a fetal position.
So, what happened at DragonCon. Re registered by going through long lines made from barriers of PVC piping. We went to the game room and some of us registered for time slots. Later in the week we checked out a game from the library and played it for a while. Most of the group spent their time playing Dungeons and Dragons. I spent the majority of my time going to panels, costume contests, shopping, and taking photos.
I picked up some comics and got them signed by the author, I bought some drawing software, and I learned about the new Neverwinter Nights 2 that’s coming out. I got some stage makeup for this Halloween and got a personal lesson from the distributor. I got to see River and Wash from Firefly, he’s an exceptional speaker, she’s shy. Sulu was wandering around the convention floor. I got to see Walter (“chevron five locked”) and General Hammond from Stargate SG-1. I got to have a good sized private conversation with Delenn from Babylon 5. Someone was selling a new RPG game based on historically accurate data and story telling, his model was there signing her pictures in the book. Speaking of models, there was some adult model there who looked absolutely horrible in person, a tribute to Photoshop. I also met a model who was on the cover of a sketch book. Artist’s Alley looked booked with people making requests.
I watched two costume contests, neither all that good. People need to realize that if you don’t know how to stage fight properly, you look stupid. Very stupid. Often spastic.
Saw a Who’s Line is it Anyway clone, which was pretty good — although they seemed to think excessive volume was cool and overdrove their speakers.
There were quite a number of people dressed in Goth. And, even more surprisingly I found a Goth band I really liked. Me. Like Goth? I know. Weird. I’m on the edge of ordering their CD, though I don’t know how I’d ever explain why it was in my collection. Chatted with their keyboardist as well, she was very nice, personable, pretty, and pleasant — not what I had imagined Goth to be.
Heard a fantastic high-technical content zero-arrogance talk about how to film models to look like full size sets done by the guy who did the “Mac killed my inner child” clip. Had a long private conversation with him before we got kicked out of the room.
Anyhow, I know what you all want… not text… you wanna see photos of FanGirls.
UPDATE: A quick set of fangirls is on Picasa, and a lot more, about two and a half days worth, has been uploaded to my photo album.
