Unquiet Desperation

To say that DragonCon is large a bit like saying the ocean is salty. Intellectually you know it to be true, but nothing can prepare you for the real thing.

I don’t think I’ve ever been around so many people at once. So many people, and yet, so many different types of people. When you go to Origins or Gencon, you are surrounded by gamers. You know them, and there are certain commonalities you can count on…a certain squint even behind the glasses, a certain sense of humor, a common language. It’s the same at any large conference you go to. Now…that gaming Con and put it in the same place as a movie con, comic con sci-fi con, goth con, pagan con, fetish con, anglophile con, and podcasting con.

It’s…immense. Vast. Totally overwhelming and completely astonishing at the same time.

Because of DragonCon, I’ve had to totally redefine my definition of the word ‘fan.’ I used to think I was a fan of Doctor Who, Battlestar, and certain comics. I now realize that I merely enjoy them. These people….these are the true fans.

The costumes, of course, are amazing. At one point when getting together with fellow members of the Order of the Digital Trebuchet, we saw one of those things that can only happen at a con like this. We were standing around waiting to leave for lunch in the atrium of the Hyatt when there was a gasp from the crowd around us. We looked around to see point point up at the sixth floor balcony where the Batman was standing, gazing out over the crowd. The costume was amazing. Then Robin emerged from behind him. It was picture perfect, and more, evoked the real feeling of the character. He was not standing up there and waving…he was completely in character, a stony gaze impassively surveying the crowd. It was perfect.

I’ve mentioned in Round Table podcasts that I go to conventions for the social aspect, to meet up with online and friends and fellow podcasters. My wife Cathy agreed to come to this one with me (against her better judgment, I think, thought she confesses to nothing), and together we had an Adventure.

Day 1

We took the 11:15am flight from Cleveland to Atlanta. Leaving CLE was a bit of a mess, and with the amount of time we spent taxiing you could have sworn we were driving to Atlanta. We arrived in Atlanta fifteen minutes late, then headed down to baggage claim.

Looking back, baggage claim is where the unravelling of the trip started. The big signal was that, on the list matching flights to luggage carousels, there was no listing for a flight from Cleveland. After about twenty minutes of hunting we finally found Cathy’s bag on one of the belts and stationed ourselves to grab my suitcase.

And we waited.

And waited.

The bag never showed up. Somehow, these folks lost my bag. How the hell do you lost a bag on a direct flight??

We waited in line, lodged the paperwork with the airline, and were assured that the bag would be delivered to our hotel by 6pm that evening. We went outside, nabbed a cab, and headed off to the hotel.

The Sheraton in Downtown Atlanta was actually pretty nice. It was one block from the Hilton (one of the three hotels that DragonCon takes over each year), and has a great staff. Everyone was friendly and helpful, and that took some of the sting out of the missing suitcase angst.

In the elevator heading up to our room, Cathy commented, “Damn. There are a lot of black men in really good shape in Atlanta. Did you see some of the guys out in the lobby, Totally cut.” The significance of this would hit home a little later, when we found out that our hotels was hoteling the Atlanta Black Gay/Bi Convention. Like DragonCon…some of the costumes were jaw-dropping.

We met up with P.G. and Liza Holyfield (who were staying in the same hotel) and headed off to grab some dinner. Thanks to Shannon Farrell and the wonder of twitter, we wound up at Max Lager’s after registering, and had a fantastic meal. You could tell that DragonCon puts a strain on the local resources…the pub was out of 40% of it’s beer selection.

After dinner, it was off to Mur’s reading of two chapters from Playing for Keeps. She’s going to podcast the whole thing, and based on those two chapters, I cannot wait to hear it.

After that, we started the trek toward room 1935, where the much-anticipated Scott Sigler/J.C. Hutchins Pimps and Hos party was being held. Along the way, we tracked down Sam Chupp, Natalie Metzger, and her husband Andy, who joined our merry band in search of a free elevator to get us to the party.

The Pimps and Hos party was, as expected, completely insane and a really good time. The beer and booze selection was outstanding, the company was superb. I’m not going to go into too much detail on this…but…let’s just say that what happens at a Pimps and Hos party had better stay at the Pimps and Hos party. Highlights included Soupbone, the Sigler-pimp persona, Tee Morris’s excellent selection of tunes, Command Line’s advice on good beers, Cmar’s Cthulu Pimpwear, Steve Eley’s pimp and CunningMinx’s ho outfits, J.R. Blackwell’s fangs, Beatnik Turtle playing out on the balcony, Mur and J.C. tending bar,  discussing the future of podcasting with Earl Newton, and generally getting to meet/party with these folks that I’ve been emailing, messaging, and listening to for so long.

My wife was an absolute saint and allowed me to become the drunken fool that I am at certain times. She left around midnight with P.G. and Liza, and I stayed…

Didn’t get back from that one until 4am. When I got back to the room, was my missing luggage there?

No.

Saturday morning was a rough one.

(to be continued in the next post)