As exemplified by Thursday evening’s brief exposure to the timesense-warping effects of Triskaidekaphobicon, clearly the theory of attending BayCon is direct and clear, albeit a little boring, while the practice thereof is circuitous and exciting. Here we will continue our study of these contrasts by once more comparing plans and realities with a half-day experience on Opening Day:
|Time Frame||What the Plan was||What really happened|
|Friday afternoon||Arrive early, go to opening ceremonies, then “Irreproducible Results” panel, then to a reading by Lois McMaster Bujold.||Just couldn’t get out the door. Forgot reading glasses, then key, then left door slightly ajar while trying to find my sunglasses (for driving), then became convinced (older/medical-issues) cat had sneaked out, so searched out front and called out back and looked under furniture. Finally discovered cat hunkered down behind a chair.Arrived halfway through Irreproducible Results panel, but got a front-row seat & enjoyed panel, from nuts and bolts revelations such as that the staff of JIR are unpaid to the audience teaching JIR’s editor the song “There’s a Hole in My Bucket” and locating for him several online sources for flexible rubber with which to make graph paper.
I took a quick look at the Art Show, where they were nice enough to take care of my bag for me. Theresa Mather‘s dragons were there. Which one is it that I bought for Tirion? I wondered, Should I bid on one of these dragon-butterfly prints? I decided to come back later and sign up as a bidder.
All of the cat-oriented artwork reminded me that I was worried about my cat (not to bore anyone with a pet’s medical issues, but no-one was home to check on Manta that day), but didn’t want to miss the reading. So stayed put for that.
Bujold read a piece she doesn’t really plan to publish at present, a work-in-progress that may or may not become part of something, but it’s a “Miles” story, so she knew it would please her fans. The humor bits got big laughs. And she was good about doing a little Q&A while waiting for late-comers to arrive. Turns out that one intellectual goal for “Curse of Chalion” was to work out a society in which religion had a basis in physical reality.
By then, it was after five, but decided to drive home to check on the cat –through Memorial-day weekend traffic. The freeway was a parking lot from San Thomas Expressway to, probably, LA. So, enjoyed elaborately costumed Fanime fans thronging streets of downtown San Jose on the unfreeway route home. Made pretty good time, actually. Oh, yes, and the cat was fine. Time for a quick freezer-cleanup dinner and half an episode of “Castle” before evening sessions.
|Friday evening||Find out what a “boffer weapon” is and make one in the new DIY Room. Then go upstairs and learn some Regency dancing. Maybe get in to panel on talking to people.||Boffer-making was not in the DIY room. I had to go alllll the way to the “Ballroom” and creep past the big room where they were having the “meet the guests” reception. Way too scary in there. In the farthest room, kids were whapping each other with foam objects. Aha, that’s boffing.
But no one was making weapons.Wandered about. Became “brave” and strolled nonchalantly through the reception. Darn, there had been food. Extroverts were happily chatting each other up.
Wandered back to boffers room to watch the swordplay. Maybe the “make your weapon” thing is over? I wondered. The program said they started at 6 and it was already nearly 8. Suddenly, someone called out, “Who wants to make a weapon?” Apparently, I had arrived at exactly the right time.
Two hours later, I was working on the trickiest duct-taping tasks on three swords at once, after two teen sisters frantically realized they must dash off to what they described as “Mom’s Concert” and begged for coverage while they were away. Another hour later, and they were back in time for adding the blade tape and the final decorations. Clever girls.
So finally 11:30 rolled around and I had myself a lovely PVC and pipe-insulation and duct-tape sword. But not prepared to wield it yet–too exhausted. Parked my sword in the car and wandered about a bit. Regency dancing was already up to a lesson on the Congress of Vienna waltz, which I can’t do with my broken shoulder yet, and which they use as the final dance.
Oh, well. Time to go home. Big plans for tomorrow.