Friday NightWell armed with several gallons of Roman Tea, a bottle of scotch, and a bottle of vanilla rum*, we got checked into the hotel with no more delays than might have been expected from how crowded everything was. From what I heard, a large percentage of attendees had actually come in the night before, to everyone's surprise.
After getting the bags up to the room, it was time to go through registration. I had not pre-registered this year, having not been sure I was going until just a couple of weeks before, so I got to stand in the really slow line. Someone had the amusing idea of blowing up a bunch of balloons and tossing them in the air, starting an impromptu game of keeping as many of them in the air as possible. As they made their way down the line, there must have been 8-10 of them in play at once; those of us batting them around had fun with it and with secretly laughing at those in line who were clearly too cool to participate.**
It's a good thing that I was not wearing my
Utilikilt in an attempt to be unique; going kilted is apparently the fashionable thing to do at conventions these days. I know that the manufacturer says they sell about 200 per year at Dragon*Con alone. But they are certainly comfortable, and the pockets are huge, which is helpful when you've got phones, wallets, keys, hip flasks(!), etc. to keep track of.
Friday night was, overall, spent like most of my time at conventions: people-watching and taking pictures. The entirity of the floor on which the con suite in the Hyatt is located is an excellent vantage point from which to look down at all the people passing through the lobby (and everyone will pass through there at some point).
Dragon*Con TV, the programming that runs on the convention TV channel throughout the weekend, is surprisingly funny stuff. Much of the material consists of "bumps", or short messages that appear on the screen, an idea they cheerfully admit is stolen from Adult Swim. Some of them are public service announcements, or "helpful" convention tips (such as the very true suggestion that taking the stairs in the Hyatt instead of the elevator is a rookie mistake, and that the stairs in question are disturbingly sticky). Other material includes fake commercials ("Phaser Eye Surgery" is a classic) and homebrew music videos (this year, "Re: Your Brains", by Jonathan Coulton). On the more peculiar end of things are the Star Trek fan films, especially the Finnish monstrosity called "
Star Wreck: In The Pirkinning", which turns into a pastiche of Star Trek and Babylon 5. But at 4:30, there's only so much a brain can take.
Unconscious as of 4:30 AM.
Saturday
Without proper consideration, wearing a kilt regimentally for long periods of time can cause chafing. You have been warned. Wearing jeans today. What I intended to do: go to the panels on the Robots track; go see some small concerts; maybe get an autograph or two. Didn't happen.
I did attend a panel held by several cast members of the TV show "Who Wants To Be A Superhero". In all fairness, that's one of those shows that I had always kind of scoffed at; people dressing up as superheros and running around in public? C'mon. It's not like normal people do things like dress weirdly and...run...around... OK, nevermind. The heroes in question--Feedback, Major Victory, and Fat Momma--were surprisingly entertaining, and clearly really into what they're doing, which is pretty cool. I may actually have to watch the show now.
That evening was the 10th anniversary of the Dawn Look-A-Like Contest, one of those things that I really have no time for and yet I watch anyways. I've never understood the draw of that comic, though it's amazing what mileage Linsner has gotten out of red hair, big knockers, and sophomoric metaphysical bullshit. That said, every now and then you see a costume that goes beyond the traditional two categories of Generic and Last-Minute, and there were some good ones this year (a couple, anyway).
Unconscious as of 3:30 AM.
Sunday
With a marginally-better night's sleep under my belt, I headed down to the Regency ballroom in the Hyatt to catch some of the flea-weight robot battles. Jason was there, with Rippy the surprisingly vicious three-pound robot (at last check, he had three wins under his belt). I regret not seeing more of the battles, as they had to let out before the tournament was over because another panel was scheduled (and was then moved after the room had already been cleared).
I purchased two books in the exhibit hall: the new edition of GURPS Martial Arts, and the new collection of PS238 (Not
Another Learning Experience!). It turns out that PS238's creator, Aaron Williams, was there at the con for a couple of days, and I had no idea, which is disappointing, as I'd have immediately set out to get an autograph.
The Miss Klingon Pageant is both disturbing and amusing by turns. Even those involved who aren't taking it seriously are taking it
very seriously. This may be one of those things that you actually have to be a Trekkie to fully understand. I'm not, and I didn't.
Sunday evening, we broke out the robes. If you're not familiar with the unspeakably awful movie "
Manos: Hands of Fate", all you really need to know is that it is one of the most dismally stupid horror movies ever made, and Mystery Science Theatre 3000 had a ball with it in one of their early episodes. The villain of the piece has black robes with big red hands on them. Five years ago, a friend made robes for myself and Sean; he got the one with the hands, and I got the one with big red footprints (can't have
two Hands Of Fate, you know). These were worn once, briefly, and were tucked away in closets for a long time thereafter. Until this year, when Sean also decided to pick up big black moustaches to go with them (better still, since both he and I are blond). It is amazing how many people recognized the robes. Heck, one group of people we passed started singing the theme music (rather, the "haunting Torgo theme", which would take too long to explain).
This coincided with the actual Masquerade contest, which had about 60-odd participants (some odder than others, yuk yuk). Most were forgettable, but the high-end ones were remarkable, including a vacuum-molded scale-model
Cyclone Powered Armor. The winners were a group that did a set of
Wallace and Gromit costumes.
The drawback is that the robes, as originally constructed, were kind of a last-minute job and were a bit too long. If I wasn't stepping on it and almost tripping, someone else was. So, a redesign is definitely in order before next year.
Unconscious as of 5:30 AM.
MondayIt's Monday at a con; what do you expect? Everyone's busy packing and loading cars. After that was done, we headed to the dealer room for one last look. I picked up a new
Thomas Canty print for slightly less than the sticker price (a lot), bought a couple of little dust collectors, and that was enough shopping for me.
Helpful Tips For My Trip To Dragon*Con Next Year
1. Plan. D*C is huge, and you will not get the full experience (hey, you're paying for it), unless you check out the schedule ahead of time and figure out what you want to do. Sure, you can do nothing and have fun; I've done that many times. But this is Dragon*Con, and you can miss out on a lot of neat things if you don't know what's going on around you.
2. When bored, find Ray or Mickey; they know far more people than I do, and are probably up to something.
3. Take a smaller camera. I think I'll borrow Dad's next year; it'll fit into a kilt pocket nicely, unlike my brick. Mine is a fine camera, but it's just too big.
*(Note to self: chicks dig vanilla rum. Chicks--by and large--do not dig scotch.)
**(For my part, I think it really helped take people's minds off standing in line for an hour-plus. The people behind me needed an emergency operation to remove the sticks from their asses.)
