"My Ghod...It's Full of Ass!"
Yakdog Reviews Dragoncon 1999
Well,
friends and neighbors, looks like it's time for yet another long-winded
Yakdog convention
review. Before you begin
reading this review, let me give you fair warning: I plan to wander off
the
subject, philosophize, go
off on tangents, give unsolicited advice, and break several rules of
grammar (I'm also fond of
parenthetical statements...). However, I promise to use my
apostrophes correctly (it's=contraction
for "it is"; its=possessive--if you're a postliterate web
monkey, please make a note
about this for future reference) and will make a strong attempt to
spell my words properly.
If you believe this review is starting to suck, just mosey on over to the
"back" button and wander off
into another chunk of the internet.
Wednesday, June 30: Arrival
Thanks to
a bizarre series of natural disasters, I arrived at the Atlanta airport
in a rental car on
the Wednesday before the convention.
Actually, this was not all bad: MARTA (Metro Atlanta Rapid
Transit Authority--or Moving
Africans Rapidly Through Atlanta, to the locals) has a clean, safe train
line that begins at the airport
terminal and has a stop (N1) convenient to the Dragoncon hotels.
If
you fly into town, I highly
recommend it: $1.50 for a traffic-free train ride beats the cat butt out
of
a $25 cab fare through weekday
afternoon Hotlanta traffic. btw, Atlanta's airports, train stations,
and public areas got some
heavy-duty plastic surgery before the 1996 Olympics. If you "stay
on
the path", you won't have
to confront any of the city's urban blight. In any case, my
train ride
into downtown was uneventful
("May your journey be without incident.").
Dragoncon
secured the entire Hyatt for the convention. It's a beautiful
open-atrium hotel;
there's a photo of it on the
convention website at www.dragoncon.org.
You and all your friends
should stay at the Hyatt--reserve
your rooms now! Meanwhile, I'll be checking into the Westin
Peachtree. The Westin
is just one block away from the Hyatt; a series of "gerbil tunnels" links
the
Westin with the Merchandise
Mart (art show) and the Apparel Mart--home of the almighty Dealers'
(That's an example of the
plural possessive, web monkeys!) Room. The room rates at the Westin
are comparable to those at
the Hyatt; however, I did not have to wait in line for check-in or the
elevator at the Westin.
My quiet, comfortable room had a fine view of the sunset, the Centennial
Olympic Park, and the Tabernacle.
I'd planned to share the spill with three other people, but one
was detained by the aforementioned
natural disasters ("Ugh. Phones down. 'Puters broken. You
fix!") and the fourth succumbed
to general fan flakiness. After my surviving roomie and I
unpacked and washed off the
road grime from our trip, we ambled over to the Hyatt. Since we'd
arrived a night early, we
expected registration to be quick and easy...
...which
just goes to show that even hardened convention veterans can still retain
a touching
reserve of innocence.
Apparently, the two page letter of constructive feedback I sent in last
year
fell on deaf ears.
Imagine that! When we arrived at Registration, we found ourselves
at the end
of a line that snaked between
the posts and ropes of a small ballroom and extended into the hall
outside. Although I
am an Eternal Member and my roomie (we'll call him "Grunden Ripspleen"
to
protect his secret identity)
had a pass from WOTC, we still waited in line for over two hours to pick
up our badges. Actually,
Grunden picked up his badge; mine was missing (for the second year in a
row) and the only person at
the VIP desk who had the authority to clear up the problem was too
busy to help me.
Incidentally, there were two kinds of people picking up badges at the VIP
desk--the "VIP" folks (Eternals,
bargain basement panelists, unpublished authors, etc.) and the
"TIP" (Truly Important People:
i.e., media guests). Finding the TIPs was easy; they bypassed the
VIP line and enjoyed the full
attention of the high-ranking booth staff (including the one person who
could have authorized a badge
for me...argh!). I understand how important a guest's happiness
is to a convention, but a
separate area for the TIPs would have been more diplomatic.
My
time at registration wasn't a complete waste; I met up with Kyrie (a friend
from
Fantasm--more on her later),
Dawn Marie (of www.dawnmarie.org),
and several people from
MOONSET ENTERTAINMENT GROUP (www.moonset.com)
while I was waiting in line.
When the staffers at the VIP booth told me I'd have to come back to pick
up my badge at 10:00am
the next morning, I consoled myself with the thought that the only scheduled
event for the evening was a concert I
hadn't planned to attend.
Still, even when nothing organized is happening, I can usually find
something to do that's more
interesting than standing in line. Here's some unsolicited advice:
before you go to Dragoncon
registration, eat a nutritious meal and visit a restroom. Try to
bring
amusing people to the line
with you. Don't forget your canteen--two hours of shuffling towards
those understaffed computer
tables is thirsty work! That reminds me: the VIP room did have a
few pitchers of water...ah,
the privileges of rank.
After
my fun-filled visit to Registrationland, I returned to the Westin to make
some calls. Here's
an important note for your
wallet: long distance from the hotel is at the AT&T Operator-Assisted
Rate, with an additional surcharge.
Local calls are .75 a pop. Bring a calling card--or, better yet,
a
cell phone--to the con with
you. Crafty Kyrie actually rented a cell phone for the duration of
the
con; when there's 20,000 people
at an event, "meeting up" is not an easy thing! OK, back to the
subject at hand: walking from
one hotel to another at night. The route between the two hotels is
a well-lit major street with
active businesses (a Hard Rock Cafe and a Planet Hollywood) that stay
open late. Almost every
time I went from one hotel to the other, beggars asked me for money.
I
found them fairly polite (i.e.,
one "no" or "not today" was enough for them) and mostly
harmless--but I am 6'2", broad-shouldered,
and familiar with the rougher customs of New
Orleans. Walt (a man
who needs no pseudonym), a shorter, lighter friend of mine, told me about
his encounter with a more
aggressive panhandler. My advice: travel with friends, stay reasonably
alert, and don't start conversations
with the street people. Also, don't be a smartass--I heard a
story about one fool who taunted
a beggar with a series of badly-done kung fu moves... Most of
the beggars in a well-lit
tourist spot are there to ask for money; the people who want to *take*
your money prefer areas with
fewer witnesses. Many of these beggars are con artists who don't
want trouble any more than
you do--but a few of them really are crazier than shithouse rats, and
all of them have less to lose
by going to jail than you do. The satisfaction of insulting someone
stupider and poorer than you
are is fleeting; the penalty for getting into a fight with one of these
folks could last a just a
bit longer.
After
puttering around for a bit, I went back to the Hyatt and visited Kyrie.
She had a
refrigerator-sized trunk of
costumes with her; we spent a while going through the outfits, then
descended to the hotel bar
for peoplewatching. While the two of us were having a drink with
a
couple of off-duty registration
people (one of whom let me know that registration would actually
be open at 9:00am), Kyrie
noticed the Moonset people and wondered who they were. Since
Moonset is making a series
of "Scream Queen" B-Movies, their tanned, brightly-dressed cast
members contrasted sharply
with the sea of black-clad goths and t-shirt wearing fen that washed
around us on all size.
Dawn Marie, who has a leading part in "HELL NIGHT", the latest Moonset
production, was kind enough
to introduce us to her new friends. We all chatted for a bit, then
fell
in with a pack of LARPers.
That's Live Action Role Playing, btw, and Kyrie is completely addicted
to
it. The disease may
be catching--it's been years since I've done any LARP, but our conversation
(which started in the bar
around 1:00am, moved to Kyrie's room around 2:00am, and lingered
there until 5:00am or so)
made me want to suit up and get into character.
Of
course, one of our topics was the power women could wield in a LARP.
The demographics of
her hotel room during the
conversation--one attractive twentysomething woman conversing with
four men--are similar to those
of a typical LARP. That sort of conversation can turn into an
endurance contest: the men
strive to be witty and charming ("Mate with as many females as
possible!") while the woman
drops gentle hints to her companion of choice ("Mate with the best
male!"). But, as the
saying goes, "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar" and I believe we were
all
really talking about LARP.
Here's a bit of advice for any ladies who happen to be reading this
review: if you're halfway
healthy and have at least a couple of brain cells to rub together, you
can
attend a con and receive more
attention than you ever dreamed of. Someone such as Kyrie is
often worshipped like a goddess...
In any case, I said my "good nights" at 5:00am and strolled
back to the Westin, past the
first-shift kitchen help whose shifts were about to start.
Thursday, July 1: It begins!
I woke
up at 8:30am--since I'm one of those damned "morning people", that's "sleeping
in"--took a shower, and fired
up the four-cup in room coffeemaker. Since I was in a rush, I got
some ice for the coffee and
chugged all four cups. Iced coffee is a beautiful thing for waking
up in
a hurry! I went to the
Hyatt, bought a couple of notepads ($5.00 for two pads--ouch! I should
have bought them at home,
or, better yet, taken couple from work...), and went down to pick
up
my badge. Actually,
I *tried* to go down and pick up my badge, but the only "down" escalator
in
the registration area was
blocked off by "Out of Service" signs. Of course, there weren't any
stairs. Sigh.
Because I'd arrived early, I managed to catch an elevator down. Of
course, the
"inside tip" about 9:00am
registration was wrong--the staffers were supposed to show up at
9:00am and open VIP registration
at 10:00. Grrr. This gave me time to have breakfast at the
slightly overpriced hotel
restaurant; while I ate, I also jotted down a few notes for this review.
At
10:00am, I went back to registration
(the escalator was up and running, btw), where one of
Dragoncon's Directors (of
Registration, perhaps?) gave me my badge. Whoo hoo!
The
Dealers' Room was scheduled to open at 1:00pm; I walked up and down the
Earth,
amusing myself with one thing
or another, until then. Only one incident from that time of
waiting
was worth writing down...
The Con Suite, land of free food and soda, was on the second floor of
the Hyatt. The Hyatt
has 5 elevators; since roughly 20,000 people attended the con, that's about
4,000 people per elevator.
Not good. In years past, fans simply walked up the fire stairs in
the
back left corner of the lobby
to reach the Con Suite, but this year, the lobby door to the fire stairs
had keycard access.
When I strolled over to the door, one of the Dragoncon security staff
stepped out of the stairs,
shut the door behind him, and rattled it to make sure it was securely
closed. I looked at
the door, glanced up towards the second floor, and said,
"That won't do much good, will it?"
His reply: "That's why I'm checking it."
Hmmm...yet another fine quality
reduction engineer at work. The door stayed locked during the
early part of the con; people
who wanted to go up simply formed a line and waited for someone
coming down to open the door.
Finally, someone had the presence of mind to leave the door
unlocked and take some strain
off the elevators.
The
Dealers' Room was in the Apparel Mart; I checked the Apparel Mart Lobby
at 12:15 and
found about a hundred people
waiting for the doors to open. When I checked back at 12:55, I
found a huge mob of people
filling the atrium, standing outside in the "Smoking Court", and
stretching down the hall towards
the Inforum. Some of the waiting fans were blocking the
escalators from the Merchandise
Mart; one of Dragoncon's Security people (striving for his 15
minutes, no doubt) shouted,
"OK, people--make like the Red Sea! Part!" The offending clusters
of
fans shuffled out of the way;
at 1:02, the staffers opened *one* of the *eleven* doors to the
room and a line of people
started to move in.
I realized
this might take a while and strolled along the line, making notes.
Three minutes later,
I had passed four window displays,
a snack bar, a support pillar, a set of securely locked glass
doors to the Dealers' Room,
and a few hundred waiting people. Several of the folks waiting didn't
realize the line had started
to move; some were seated and reading. After chatting with the poor
unfortunates at the back of
the line, I strolled back up to the doors. Some enterprising soul
had
decided it might be a good
idea to open more (three) doors, so the line was moving a bit faster.
The "back of the line" folks
went through at 1:10: not too bad, considering the number of people
who had been waiting.
I made
a beeline for the Fantasm/Con-Tour booth (I'm one of the Directors in my
spare time;
visit the website at www.fantasm.org!),
met up with the rest of the Fantasm staff, and hung out
to sell stuff. Our T-shirts
(including my own "WARNING! Kicks Ass When Provoked!" design) and
buttons practically flew out
of the booth. Life was good. Here's a couple of incidents
from the
day:
A pudgy
young gamer stopped by the booth, flipped through the photo albums of Fantasm
1999, and, in a disdainful,
Puritanical tone, asked, "Is this a con about *sex*?" I suppressed
my
urge to say, "Yes--you look
like you could use a bit yourself!" and explained that people were
more likely to photograph
racy material than writers' panels, gaming, etc. He wandered off,
leaving both of us somewhat
dissatisfied.
During
the early afternoon, I made a change run for the booth. I checked
the snack stands in
the Apparel Mart/Inforum first,
on the off-chance they would have a few spare small bills. Two
claimed to be short; at "The
Island", the last one I checked, I actually bought two bottles of juice
before I asked for change.
When I politely requested change for 3 $20 bills, the fellow behind the
counter replied:
"There's no way in the world!
I'm in business for myself--I don't do change. There's things called
'banks', y'know."
I said, "I'll keep that in mind the next time I need to buy a drink."
Counter-boy suddenly realized
he was speaking to a customer and gave me the reply he should
have used in the first place:
"Oh, well, with the convention, we've been really low."
I said, "Well, that's understandable."
Do
you think I went back to "The Island" that weekend? If the nitwit
behind the counter had
given me the change I was
looking for, I would have gone back to him when I needed snacks and
recommended his shop to others.
Since he couldn't overcome his urge to be a twit, I dropped the
juice off at the booth, warned
everyone there not to patronize "The Island", and got my change
from the Westin.
Everybody likes a little ass, but nobody likes a smartass!
I spent
the day working the booth, running errands, chatting with fans, and catching
up with
friends. During the
day, I believe everybody and their dog orbited through the dealers' room
at
least once. The room
was filled with all the goodies I'd expect to find at a con, along with
beta
test versions of new games,
a "Hall of Fame" with guests signing autographs, and "high end"
merchandise such as custom
contact lenses. I've heard some people refer to Dragon Con as a
"trade show"; they speak as
if trade shows were a bad thing. Every industry needs a forum
for
people to gather, look at
new ideas, and do a bit of business--why should gaming/SF be different?
Also, I go to "mundane" trade
shows, such as the Restaurant Association show, as part of my RL
job...Dragoncon has a much
smaller exhibit area and many more activities than any "mundane"
show I've ever attended.
Anyway, most of the people I saw going through the Dragoncon
Dealers' Room looked like
kids in a candy store. If you come to the con, bring some shopping
$
and a wish list!
At
a normal convention, we would have gone hunting for parties after dinner.
Unfortunately,
Dragoncon's public parties
are very weak indeed. It was not ever thus: I remember attending
Dragoncons with many parties.
However, in those days, Dragoncon was at another hotel and did
not have the entire hotel
booked for the con. This other hotel had an extremely enthusiastic
security staff. Parties
at Dragoncon didn't close down--they were shut down. I suspect some
people got tired of trying
to host parties under these conditions. Also, most parties at conventions
are hosted by groups, and
many of these groups are hosting the party to invite people to attend a
convention, join an organization,
etc. Let's do the math: about 20,000 people attend Dragoncon,
while most local and regional
SF cons have memberships of only a few hundred. Dragoncon is
huge enough to draw people
from across the country and around the world; it is also huge enough
to draw in people who are
only interested in the fringes of SF (the goth concerts, one of the media
guest tracks, etc.).
In many cases, neither of these groups of people will attend a local con...but
they will happily attend a
local con's Dragoncon party.
So,
you can see what began to happen. Some parties dropped out because
of the "Party Nazi"
security; others dropped out
because their parties weren't showing any results:
"How many people signed up for Yakdogcon at our Dragoncon party?"
"Uhh...five?"
"Hum. And how much did we spend on booze?"
"Well...about $2,000.00."
"Ah. Well, I'll be fucked by a syphilitic goat if we throw another party there!"
The
die-hard partiers who remained suddenly found themselves overloaded with
people: their
parties ran out of liquor
or were shut down by security in short order. This brings us up to
the
present: any party that "goes
public" at Dragoncon is going to be totally mobbed and drained
because it will be the only
public party. The only solution I can see to this problem is to create
a
*real* "party floor" and to
encourage the creation of enough parties to serve Dragoncon's fans.
Of course, this plan requires
the cooperation of the Hyatt, and the Hyatt is probably quite pleased
with the cash it earned selling
$4.50 cups of beer and keeping a full bar until closing time. If
you
want to drink at Dragon, you'll
need to bring your own.
Private
parties aren't all bad; they're quiet enough to have a conversation in,
there's no line for
the bar, and you can take
the time to mix a good top-shelf drink. There aren't as many new
people to meet, but, since
I only see many of these folks at cons anyway, there's still plenty of
catching up to do. Our
Thursday night host had some amazing stories to tell about his RL
adventures in Africa...
I find convention conversation a refreshing contrast to the constant
barrage of sports, cars, kids,
and shopping I hear about at work--especially since many of the
people who attend cons still
*read books*. I decided to call it an early night and hit the sack
at
2:00am.
Friday, July 2: The First Full Day
Sleeping
in is one of the pillars of a great vacation; I dozed peacefully until
8:45am. Ah, the
luxuries of time off!
Once again, I kickstarted my morning with four cups of iced coffee.
Then, it
was off to the Hyatt for a
10:00am panel on the fine art of making "B" movies. The entire
cast
of HELL NIGHT, along with
the producer, Todd Fischer, was supposed to be up bright and early for
the first panel slot of the
morning. Of course, Dawn Marie (a "night person" if ever there
was
one) is in the HELL NIGHT
cast. When Bonnie (another Fantasm Director) and I were going over the
schedule, we immediately began
discussing odds for Dawn making the panel. I talked Bonnie down
to 3:1 against, but when I
said Dawn had to make the panel *on time*, even 4:1 wasn't good
enough. I'm glad I didn't
place a bet--Dawn was at the panel, bright and early. When Dawn
sleeps, she's a real comagirl,
and waking her up is not an easy task...but I'd underestimated
Dawn's guile and determination.
She simply stayed up all night and crashed after the panel. btw,
the panel was excellent; many
of the people who attended had interesting questions. If the panel
had been in a more reasonable
time slot and hadn't been up against Dave Prowse (that's Darth
Vader, folks), I expect the
attendance would have been higher. Tom Savini showed up in
mid-panel--he gave me a brief
explanation of why a $200 million movie can have a script that
sucks ass (in a word: politics)
and recommended a book on the subject: William Goldman's
Adventures in the Screen Tray.
Discussion panels don't have the same flash appeal as media or
performance events, but if
you have some questions you want answered or enjoy hearing other
points of view on a subject
you enjoy, I highly recommend them. Panels can also be a great way
to meet people who share your
interests; I spotted a talented makeup artist, and invited him to
our con. He stopped
by our booth to talk; we exchanged ideas and contact information.
Wouldn't
have happened if I hadn't
attended this panel...
After
the panel, I returned to our booth in the Dealers' Room. Then, I
visited the Artists' Alley to
give out Fantasm info, collect
business cards, and (gasp!) look at the art. Convention art shows
are always worth a visit--even
if you don't like *anything* there, you can breeze through quickly.
Also, artists are a hungry
lot: while some originals are priced far beyond what the average fan can
afford, many artists have
prints available and the new talent often sells at bargain prices.
This is a
great place to pick up "things
you can't find at the mall." Some of the winners I ran into included
a
voodoo doll that looked suspiciously
like Bill Gates (designed by someone from New Orleans--go
figure) and some nifty computer-enhanced
goth photos by "Splat" Johnson. The Dragoncon art
show was in proportion to
the Dealers' Room: large. The only annoyance I had to deal with during
my spin through the room was
a sudden burst of conversation-shattering drumming that broke
out in the back of the room
for no apparent reason. Loud noises and paintings just don't mix
well
for me, folks.
Shortly
after I returned to the Dealers' Room, cards in hand, Yvonne Craig (Batgirl!)
bought one
of my "...Kicks Ass..." T-shirts.
I was so pleased! And now for some pseudo-legal
mumbo-jumbo: no, Yvonne Craig
is not endorsing the shirt; the photo I took of her holding one
up proves nothing.
I'm relying on the general photo release printed on every Dragoncon badge
to
drop her photo into this review.
Hopefully, I'm not doing anything wrong here--I just think it rocks
the planet that I could design
anything someone that cool could enjoy.
I spent
the rest of the afternoon at and around the booth and running errands--Beth,
Teresa
and I went to Kinkos to make
some copies. btw, the gentrified development in downtown Atlanta
doesn't go far--if you go
1-2 blocks past the hotels, you'll be in a very poor neighborhood.
Fair
warning! Anyway,
as we began to discuss plans for the evening and what we needed to bring
up
from the cars, Teresa (yet
another Fantasm Director!) said, "There's a couple of coolers and a
spanking bench in my car..."
Just a typical Friday night, honest!
I hit
the Camgirls panel, since I knew Dawn Marie (www.dawnmarie.org)
and Cloei
(www.animecam.com);
I'd also met two of the other camgirls, Tiffany (www.tiffanycam.com)
and
Samantha (www.samanthacam.com)
at the Moonset panel. The panel was fairly interesting, but
there weren't any "Jerry Springer"
incidents (which is good I suppose--stalkers seem silly in
theory, but they can actually
be dangerous)...and the panel was kept on a theoretical level. The
camgirls at Fantasm did a
more, ah, practical demonstration... Well, that's not the con I'm
reviewing, so...
After
the camgirl panel, I felt a bit restless and did some wandering.
Unfortunately, I fell out of
touch with the other Fantasm
folks; since they didn't have a cell phone with them, I couldn't track
them down. I may have
said this before, but I'll say it again: it's very easy to get separated
at
Dragoncon. Try to have
something mobile you can use to get in touch with people--you'll be glad
you did. After wandering
about, peoplewatching, I headed back to the hotel room. btw,
Dragoncon had a *huge* area
set aside for gaming; even at this late hour, several people were
still using it. I spotted
one weakness in the scenario designs: people were putting together gigantic
games that no sane mortal
could possibly finish, even given a full weekend. One example was
an
armored miniatures battle
called "Patton's Dream": a clash between the full strength of the
Western Allies, Nazi Germany,
and the Soviet Union in W.W.II era Europe. Ack! Something on
a
smaller scale would have been
less like work, I think...
I returned
to the Westin and met up with Grunden; he was going back to the Hyatt to
check on
the news for his LARP ("Dark
Confrontation"? Or is that "Dark Conspiracy"?). After weighing
my
options, I said, "Well, I'm
going back for one more look at this party-less toilet of a con."
Much to
my amazement, I actually stumbled
across a semi-public party and stayed for a while. Christine
(who is not one of Dawn's
favorite people but gets along with me reasonably well) and one of her
friends were livening things
up by dancing on the tables. Whoo hoo! The new, younger generation
of fans seems much healthier
and includes more women than the fans I remember from my first
cons. I have no problem
with that. There may be something to this whole "good nutrition has
given you length of bone"
business--I met a goth girl who was at least my height. Neat!
Eventually, Chris (guess that
con!) showed up at the party; the rest of the Fantasm folks were
upstairs romping and frolicking,
but I was too tired for reindeer games. And so, back to the Westin
at the reasonable hour of
3:45am, feeling entirely too sober...
Saturday, July 3: Yet another full day!
I say "yet
another" because a typical con begins on Friday afternoon and ends on Sunday
afternoon. Even party
cons that begin a day early have trouble beating this cycle: they begin
Thursday night, but there
isn't any day programming on Friday and they end when the last
Saturday night party shuts
down. Dragoncon lasts a while--hence the nickname Drag On Con.
Anyway, Saturday at a con
is usually bittersweet for me: I know I have a full day of fun to look
forward to, but I also know
the con will be over tomorrow. Sigh. This con was no exception.
Four cups of iced coffee in the morning had become my morning ritual--though
I hardly felt the
need for caffeine after sleeping
in until 9:00am. By 10:00, I'd hauled my bright and cheerful self
to
the Dealers' Room.
For some reason, I was bouncy, restless, and a bit edgy. Hmmm...perhaps
I
should drink more coffee to
settle my nerves. Anyway, I hung out at the booth until 11:00am,
then took Teresa to a meeting
with Todd. We took some juice & muffins (juice and muffins that
weren't from "The Island",
btw) onto the balcony and met for about an hour and a half. When
we
were finished, we'd arranged
for Todd and the "local" HELL NIGHT cast to come to Fantasm. We
also had a great time going
over ideas, chatting about cons & movies, etc. One of the high
points
of any con is planning something
to do at the next con, whether it's a game, a panel, a lunch
meeting, a party...
For me, knowing I'll see familiar faces x, y, and z at the next con gives
me that
much more to look forward
to.
By
this time, I'd shot all the film in my disposable camera. During
my trip to Kinko's, I'd spotted
a Wolf Photo shop within easy
walking distance, so I ambled over to get some one-hour
developing. Unfortunately,
the Wolf shop was closed. In fact, *all* the shops were closed.
Does
something seem wrong with
this picture? There I was, in the downtown of the largest city in
the
Southeast, and all the stores
were closed. Of course, the suburban malls were open and doing a
booming business--if I'd been
shopping at Lenox Square or the Perimeter, I would have been hard
pressed to find parking.
If I'd been in downtown Chicago, I would have found all the stores open
and doing a brisk business.
Downtown Atlanta, though...the towering luxury hotels are like islands
in a sea of poverty.
During the weekend, the people who work downtown are gone, and the
people who live downtown don't
have any money to spend, so the stores are closed. Atlanta is a
formidable convention town
and its suburbs are sprawling across Georgia at a truly frightening
rate, but it still can't seem
to create a viable downtown. Perhaps another decade of rising
property values will bring
on a wave of gentrification...a safer neighborhood, but still not a
welcoming one. "Care
for a $20 martini, sir?" Anyway, that was me, rambling. Here's
my point:
all the businesses around
the downtown hotels were closed on the weekend. If you need film,
copies, etc., you can take
the MARTA from stop N1 (next to the Hyatt, diagonally across the
street from the Westin) to
the Lenox Square station (N6? N7? Anyway, it's on the "N" for
"Northbound" line and it's
clearly marked "Lenox" on the route map)--you'll come out across the
street from a megamall/hotel
complex. The fare's just $1.50 each way & you should be able
to
find all the retail services
you need (and several you don't need) inside.
During
the day, I romped around the con, taking pictures, talking to people, and
studying the
scenery. Like all the
Fantasm folks, I was looking forward to the evening's party. We'd
printed up
600 invitations (the trip
to Kinko's, remember? Foreshadowing!), handed them out to people
who
looked interesting, amusing,
bizarre, depraved, or all of the above, and were hoping for a good
turnout. Speaking of
bizarre and depraved...Tracy, one of the Fantasm people, was wearing an
old-school Star Trek Commander's
uniform as an afternoon hall costume, and I liked it. OK, you
can all take a moment to color
me "perverted" now... Moving right along, I believe SF uniforms
are to some fans as Catholic
schoolgirl outfits are to some mundanes. "On your knees, Fanboy!"
Whoo hoo! Damn
the Prime Directive and full speed ahead, Commander! I took a "shore
leave"
photo of Tracy during our
group dinner at Rio Bravo; Ric, one of our party, was dead on when he
pointed out the way the restaurant's
decor resembled an old Star Trek set.
When
I was getting ready for the con, I decided to bring along something formal,
so I packed
my tuxedo. Yes, I do
own a black tie outfit--I picked it up at a family-owned outlet store in
Chicago for a very reasonable
price. Since my employer sometimes has formal functions, I've
already recouped the investment.
Wearing the outfit to Dragoncon was a pleasant bonus. I don't
completely agree with the
old saying, "the clothes make the man", since I know people who can
somehow manage to look good
while wearing a potato sack. Still, having a sharp outfit doesn't
hurt, especially when it contrasts
sharply with the clothes around it. Most people at the con were
wearing goth, poser-goth,
or jeans & t-shirt outfits; many of those who weren't were in full
costume. I heard several
calls of "Bond--James Bond!" while I was walking through the halls;
I
guess I "clean up real nice."
btw, I'm a strong advocate of contrasting costumes: when
everybody and their dog is
wearing black leather and vinyl, something all white (such as a
Clockwork Orange costume)
is much more noticeable. I feel safe saying most people at cons
enjoy public attention--if
we didn't, we'd work a bit harder at blending, don't you think?
Our
party was scheduled to start at midnight, so we decided to make the rounds
before the
festivities cranked up to
speed. First, Chris, Teresa and I walked down to the Flatiron building,
six
blocks away on Peachtree,
for the White Wolf party. On the trip down, we passed a few small
herds of golf-shirted yuppies,
the usual crew of beggars, a few random locals, and a street
preacher. One panhandler
was really hamming up the "po', po', pitiful Negro" routine--even one of
the local blacks was making
fun of the fellow. Still, I followed my own advice and "just said
no"
(instead of telling the lazy
bastard how I'd worked my way up from nothing with a warehouse
job..."it just gets you dirty
and annoys the pig."). He had a few mumbled curses for me; I
shrugged them off and and
crossed the street for the party. If I want to give out money to
the
poor, I'll start with the
ones I know--the open mike poets of Chicago aren't exactly rolling in
cash... Oops,
another tangent. The Flatiron was a beautiful building with fascinating
architecture.
The ground floor and the basement
were cleared for the party; there was an open bar on each
level. btw, the coolest
spot in the Flatiron (literally and figuratively) is the old bank vault
in the
basement. My advice:
load up on drinks and stand under the air vent. If you're feeling
really
crafty, you could bring your
own goblet, hip flask, etc. The party was off to a slow start, and
many of the people who attended
didn't bother dressing for the occasion (fashion tip: wearing
jeans and a t-shirt to any
theme party is gauche, but wearing a "Vampire" T-shirt to a White Wolf
party?!? Oh, the humanity...),
but I heard it heated up later in the evening.
After
we paid our respects at the WW party, we dropped in on the Bendovaho tribe.
For those
of you who don't know them,
they're a group of friends who go to cons in theme costumes--like
Stormtroopers or Trekkies,
but with much more ass showing. They kept a low profile at
Dragoncon, but their party
still didn't last long. Even though it wasn't midnight, someone
*apparently* called in a complaint
to the hotel about noise from their room. Here's another
etiquette tip for cons, folks:
calling security to shut down a party is not a nice thing to do.
If you
plan to attend a con and go
to sleep early, you'll be in the minority...noisy carousing late at night
is
fairly normal convention behavior.
So, if you're determined to sleep from 9:00pm until 5:00am,
please ask the hotel for a
room in the con's "quiet area" when you register, m'kay?
After
the three of us left the Bendovaho room, we saw that someone had kicked
our party off
early. We had two rooms
on the corner of the second floor: one for booze and music, and the
other for The Machine.
There's plenty of "Machine" photos on the Fantasm website
(www.fantasm.org!)
and its links, so I'll keep the description brief. "The Machine"
is a rectangular
framework of metal bars with
several mounts for chains. The typical chain configuration leaves
the Machine's occupant chained
facedown, blindfolded, with all four limbs restrained, dangling in
midair. I haven't used
it myself, but it sure does look nifty! Of course, we arranged for
a couple of
burly doormen to keep the
rooms from getting totally packed--my thanks to Wolf and [his friend
whose name I can't remember...can
anybody fill this in for me?!?]. I didn't spend much time at
the party--a local friend
of mine (who we'll call Poverty Grrrl) staggered over to the con after
a 12
hour shift at work.
Since she hadn't eaten, I took her downstairs to the Hyatt's late-night
buffet.
Yummy! We did a bit
of catching up and snapped a couple of photos, then I walked her over to
another hotel (an attempt
to meet up with someone she knew from a previous
con...unfortunately, it didn't
pan out) and escorted her to her car. Here's a word o' warning: the
local idiots get some kind
of thrill from cruising Peachtree street on Saturday night. Traffic
on
Peachtree will be totally
snarled on Saturday, barring the passage of an anti-cruising law, so don't
drive unless you have to.
If you do drive, use the parallel streets--and bring a map, for fuck's
sake!
By
the time Poverty Grrrl dropped me off at the Hyatt, we were out of submissives
and
dangerously low on alcohol.
I spent some time chatting in the hall--where I ran into a real treat.
One of Dragon Con's Directors--I
don't know which one, but any of them should have known
better--had taken a room on
the second floor and wanted to sleep. btw, the lobby was still full
of
people; the lower floors had
been packed all night. Also, the second floor had plenty of traffic
going to the consuite and
operations rooms. Finally, I *believe* the second floor had actually
been set aside for parties...perhaps
I'm mistaken. Here's another piece of con etiquette: if you're
running a con, fans don't
appreciate it when you "pull rank" at "your" con to stop them from doing
something they see as reasonable
(in this case, gathering on the second floor to converse). Of
course, as I said earlier,
we were fresh out of submissives and booze (problems we didn't
experience at Fantasm!), so
we simply shut down and went to our separate lairs to crash. Plenty
of night people were out:
several of the LARPs were going strong, some insane, fanatical gamers
were still up and at it, and,
of course, there were still plenty of frustrated solos hanging around and
hoping to find some miraculous
way to score. Buy a clue folks: if you aren't hooked up by
2:00am Saturday night/Sunday
morning, it isn't going to happen. Of course, I used to say, "If
you
aren't hooked up on Friday..."--then
I *did* hook up on a Saturday. Maybe there is something to
the whole "never say never"
attitude. Well, I'm already involved with someone who wasn't at the
con, so I didn't have to worry
about any of that this year. Whoo hoo!
Sunday, July 4: The End
Well, I'll
keep this short. Dragoncon has active functions going until 5:00pm
Sunday afternoon
and various "dead dog" gatherings
after that, but I had an early flight to catch, so I wasn't there to
see how any of that went.
Sunday's a good day to get closure on a con--pay your bills, say your
good-byes, and make one last
orbit around to make sure you aren't missing anything. I've got a
couple of sneaky tips here.
First, check your hotel bill. The hotel will usually try to screw
you on
something you shouldn't pay:
a phone charge, parking, room service, whatever. If you see a
charge that you honestly believe
sucks as, dispute it in a calm, reasonable manner. Most hotels
would rather see you leave
a happy customer with a lower bill than gouge you once for $50, lose
your business forever, and
have you spread bad publicity about their business practices. Second,
if
you travel in the middle of
a three day weekend (most businesses were closed on Monday the 5th
this year), flying on standby
is a snap. I totally missed my morning flight, left in the late afternoon,
and had no trouble catching
half-full planes back to Chicago. This handy travel lesson works
well
on almost any major holiday...just
don't ever try to fly standby on Turkey Day or Christmas!
OK,
time to wrap this up. Hopefully, this review has been like the breasts
of a beautiful woman:
useful and entertaining!
If not, please give me email me with a more appropriate metaphor (or is
that a simile?), such as:
"Like the anus of a dead camel in the Sahara: dry and crusty!"
Remember,
I told you about that back button before you started...if it started to
suck, you
should have gone back to your
hot date with www.realdoll.com and
left me to stew in my own
juices. I leave
you with one final, shameless plug:
Go to Fantasm! www.fantasm.org
Yakdog yakdog@msn.com