About Last Night

This is what I did with my evening:

  • Hosted a singles meet and greet, because apparently I am Dr. Love;
  • Got kicked out of the Asimov’s/Analog party (along with nearly everyone else) when the hotel security shut it down;
  • Taught people how deaf people applaud;
  • Showed Robert Silverberg how to Twitter;
  • Rocked the Rock Band version of Journey’s “Any Way You Want It” on the vocals;
  • Caught up with the Viable Paradise Alumni and popogated widom (intentionally misspelled) to some recent Clarionites;
  • And basically had a fine all time.

And now I’m about to be late to my own reading. Later.

23 Comments on “About Last Night”

  1. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, who wishes summer would come and warm his ass up.

    Dang. Hope Reno is this much fun. :(

    At least MArko and I will be there with guns. His pistols. And my biceps! Kazaaam!!!

  2. There may be video of the second half of the aforementioned rocking of the Journey. I haven’t checked my camera to see if it came out, but it was too much fun not to tape.

  3. Daniel Ross – Hi, I'm Daniel Ross, and I'm a nerd. My big joys in life are learning about new things, figuring out how things work, and making things work better. One of the things I spend a lot of time on in the "making better" column is life in general. I've got political opinions ohboy. I probably won't talk about 'em that much here, though. On my own time, I spend a lot of time exploring and having new experiences. That might be as planned as taking a vacation out into the woods to hike a new trail I read about. It might be as simple as hopping a Muni bus and riding until I don't know where I am, or eating somewhere different every time I go out. I also have a shifting collection of other hobbies. I'm an avid reader, and Someday I Will Write a Novel(™); I make chainmail jewelry; and when all else fails, there's always taking your day job home with you by hobby coding.
    Nentuaby

  4. I’m giving the gold medal winner award to “showed Robert Silverberg how to Twitter.” Man, that’s really awesome. :D

    And then I wanna see that video of the Journey-rockin’

  5. I have never been to a Con party so wild that hotel security shut it down. I know of one I missed though. On the common bulletin board one Sunday morning I saw a notice that read, “What kind of chicken establishment is this that doesn’t allow salad oil in the jacuzzi!?” Was the A/A party anything like that?

  6. I did say “inadvertently”. (Hi John! For what it’s worth, you do an excellent impersonation of a Love Machine. Or enabler of such.)

    – Em,
    was at the Singles Party.

  7. I, too, want to hear more about this AA meeting that got shut down by the hotel. I’ve go to AA meetings every week for 12+ years, and we have parties frequently, and I’ve never heard of that happening before.

    Oh, wait. AA=Asimov’s/Analog? I see. That makes sense.

    Never mind.

  8. ytimynona – FLORIDA – I'm a big wannabe. Wannabe a truck driver, PotUS, scientist, writer, and teacher. Well, I already am a teacher. :-)
    ytimynona

    How do deaf people applaud?

  9. I, too, want to know how deaf people applaud — need to know, actually, since (in my late 70’s) “hard-of-hearing” progressed to “deaf as a post” (if you’ll excuse the Technical Terminology).

  10. Hotel security. Cute.

    Let me tell you about the time the Nuclear Regulatory Commission got called out to Chattacon…

  11. # Hosted a singles meet and greet, because apparently I am Dr. Love;

    We were wondering if this came off back in Prog Ops when I remembered that the last time I had seen you, you were headed that way on time and that all would be well.

    # Got kicked out of the Asimov’s/Analog party (along with nearly everyone else) when the hotel security shut it down;

    I think the days of the Asimov’s/Analog party being held in the SFWA suite should be over. Give out the awards in function space, serve the cake in public and then have a private reception elsewhere. I, as a subscriber to Asimov’s, am hurt that I was not invited to the awards.

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