Sans Fig Leaf
For info about the convention:
"You gotta have friends"
12 November, 2001
We had a great time because we were goofing off with our friends. We had most of the editorial board of the literary project attending this year, and they were all willing to staff our table in the dealer's den. We had good friends staffing the tables on each side of us, as well. So our corner of the dealer's room was this fun, laughing place all weekend. Even on Sunday morning, when I was running a fever and was, as Michael put it, "Extra special cranky."
It doesn't hurt that at least half the staff are also friends, and that a number of attendees from outside the Puget Sound region are people I consider friends. Even standing outside after midnight waiting for the all-clear from the fire department (a water heater gasket burst, causing a minor flood on one floor and the steam set off the smoke alarms) was fun, because there were friends to joke around with.
That is the secret to having fun at a convention: having friends who are fun to hang out with. That's why I keep wheedling and pleading with friends to attend the conventions with me.
There's also safety in numbers. At any gathering of people you will always find "weirdos." Comic and sci fi conventions have a reputation for having more of those than other places, but I've been to choral conventions and car shows that seem to have about the same percentage of whackos attending them. When you have a bunch of your buddies with you, you can protect each other from the weirdos. Often the mere fact that you're in a group will keep certain types of annoying or disturbing people away from you.
Otherwise you can take turns dealing with the whackos. Or maybe a person you find disturbing is merely amusing to one of your friends.
Also, your friends help you find out things you would never learn on your own. There's a particular person at this convention who was obviously avoiding me. Since he had turned in a story proposal for our project earlier this year and I had given him a less than glowing critique of it, I figured that he just didn't want to talk to me. I had no idea that he was actually afraid of me.
I did find it ironic that he was comfortable talking to people who had had at least as negative a reaction to his proposal as I had. Of course, I was the one whose job it was to deliver the critique, so I become the ogre in his imagination.
It was very gratifying to hear how many of my friends were amused that someone was afraid of me. They all know what a pussy cat I am inside.
Which isn't to say that he's the first person to think me an ogre. The sign on our computer room door at home "Cave of the Ogre, Enter at your own risk" was made by a friend of mine. In fact, Joe is my longest running friend. I met him shortly after I moved to Longview in the fall of 1976. Some guys were literally stuffing him into a locker (he was that skinny). I figured the bullies would eventually tag me as a target, so I should start allying myself with the other geeks.
A good friendship can outlast just about anything. Something I read last night reminded me how lucky I am, not just to have great friends, but that I have so many friendships that have lasted years. Mark and I have been friends for about 18 years. I've known Keith about 16 years, and Julie about 14 years. Then there's the whole Pandora House gang who I think are at an even dozen years.
It's amazing I've found so many people who will put up with me for as long as they have. They're all a very special bunch. I think I should remember to tell them that more often.
Do not protect yourself by a fence, but rather by your friends.
--Czech Proverb