Over on the YouTube, my obsessive butt has pretty much all of Pratchett’s various talks and suchlike from the conference. The bit above might be my favorite, and it’s from his long discussion on the 2nd day of the Con.

Here he’s talking about his first (successful) trip to the US, when he was finally starting to catch on. At that point, Doubleday had just moved into 666 5th Ave in NY and there was quite the issue about the physical address of the building, leading Pratchett to exclaim “you’re all a bunch of religious loonies!” and then to one of my favorite quotes ever. It reads well enough, but you’ve got to listen to him.

Having been told that several of the publishing house’s religious writers quit because they didn’t want to be connected with such an ‘evil’ address:

That’s rather dismaying, isn’t it?

I’m a humanist, I think. And the power of the Lord cannot be that good if it can be defeated by a few hundred yards of neon tubing.

As you can see, the Alzeheimer’s is really biting deep.

Just love the man.

Too funny. In looking at the info at the Con website I found these newsletters- and Charlie and I were scrambling to get the figurine out of the box and get everything set up when the photo was taken. I had no idea, too funny.

Everyone at the Con was entitled to 2 autographs from Pratchett, and it just so happened that tickets were for the first day. The signing session was 2 hours long, and I arrived only 5 minutes after it opened, and there were still over a hundred people in front of us:

We were a little unusual- most people simply had books to be signed, and I think he was a little tired of it, so when we had something a little different, we actually got his attention for a bit.

First off, there was the figurine. Though I was lucky enough to find someone to sell me their tickets, they were heartbroken that circumstances had changed and they couldn’t attend. As small compensation, I offered to have something autographed for them, and they sent a little Lady Ramkin ceramic collectible. He seemed most intrigued by it & said no two are exactly alike, examining it very closely.

Then I had him sign a photo of Pratch, which was also something of some curiousity. I’m not entirely sure what he thought of having a chatty bird named after him, but he was good natured about it, and after finding out where we live added “Does he say ‘show us your knickers’ yet? He’s got to say that, you know!” So now we have a new phrase to work on.

Unfortunately, the signing photos are blurry because we were juggling a whole bunch of stuff, talking with him, and trying not to tie up the line.

Still, even in these chaotic conditions, after he had been signing for over an hour and a half, he was kind and took a few minutes to make us feel special. There was never a moment during the entire convention where he wasn’t a wonderful, witty good natured sport about everything, and we left even more impressed than ever with the man.

I don’t really count PirateCon as having been my ‘first,’ really, since I was more a voyeur than anything else. It was closer to finding your dad’s Playboy stash than your first actual kiss.

As with any blundering virgin, mistakes were made; I didn’t realize, for instance, that the Masquerade was an actual contest, and not a Ball. I saved my most elaborate costume for that night, only to discover that the participants had written up skits and signed up well in advance. Ah well. Next time. Besides, it was nice to kick back and watch the pros do their thing- there were some amazing, detailed costumes out there. It’s definitely something to shoot for going forward.

Despite getting to the party way late (so late in fact winners had already been selected) I got what amounted to a runner-up ribbon the first night, and another ribbon and encouragement the Masquerade night, telling me to keep it up, and be sure to enter for real next time, that I had an excellent shot. So that was nice pretty damn awesome. Charlie said the grin damn near split my face in half when they pinned it on me.

It’s only fitting, then, that that first costume was a Seamstress’ outfit. Again, not knowing all the convention conventions, I took the ‘Seamstresses Ball’ literally- and since Seamstress is a euphemism for “woman of negotiable affection,” I was…uh…not subtle.

In fact, I was in a dither before I left, and Charlie encouraged me to wear a red monstrosity of a wig which totally clashed with everything I had on, but what the hell. If you’re out there, trolling for business, ya wanna stand out, right? Right? Please? Ah well. Besides, the wig matched the whip. It’s those kind of details you need a pro for.

The strange thing was that there were very few seamstresses in the crowd. Maybe they have better shame mechanisms than I have?

At any rate, I’ll put up several posts on the Con, mostly about the guest of honor, of course, and then there was the side trip to the Grand Canyon, but I’ll kindly spare you the vile grossness I got sick with once we got home.

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Now that I’m coming down the home stretch, it’s time for that breather and explanation.

About a month ago, I found out about NADWCON, the North American Discworld Con through Neil Gaiman’s blog, and things just haven’t been the same since.

First there was the “Charlie ‘talking’ me into it” phase- a farce, really, where he pointed out how it’s likely going to be the only chance to see the man in the flesh, so even though this isn’t the ideal time for a vaca, we need to do it. It wasn’t exactly a hard sell.

Then came the “Great! Let’s book tickets” phase, rapidly followed by the “Oh SHIT I didn’t read the membership page properly- the convention’s sold out!” and the “wheedling, whining and whimpering” phases, which actually ended successfully, with tickets in hand.

And there was much rejoicing.

Short lived rejoicing, however, which quickly morphed into panic as I discovered that costumes are de rigueur. COSTUMES! OMG! The PTSD shakes set in as I had flashbacks to being the worst-dressed pirate EVER at PirateCon.

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The only way housework could be done in this place was with a shovel or, for preference, a match.

Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

But I suppose that’s to be expected, post holiday? The official cleanup and resolution implementation begins today.

Probably today. Quite possibly, anyway.

(having signed up for the application on facebook, saw this one)

Too many people, when listing all the perils to be found in the search for lost treasure or ancient wisdom, had forgotten to put at the top of the list ‘ the man who arrived just before you’ .

… an appropriate Pratchett quote. Haven’t done one in a while, anyway:

“Cats are sacred,” said Dios.

“Long-legged cats with silver fur and disdainful expressions are, maybe,” said Teppic. “I’m sure sacred cats don’t leave dead ibises under the bed. And I’m certain that sacred cats that live surrounded by endless sand don’t come indoors and do it in the king’s sandals, Dios.”

As the owner of cats with unlimited access to outside, cats for whom the world is their toilet, I’d like to know why, oh WHY is the couch corner so irresistible??

Hour gongs were being struck all across the city and night-watchmen were proclaiming that it was indeed midnight and also that, in the face of all the evidence, all was well. Many of them got as far as the end of the sentence before being mugged.

-Terry Pratchett, Wyrd Sisters

Once a month we, the community, meet with they, our theoretical protectors, the police.

Don’t get me wrong. We have a rather good relationship with the local precinct, and we are all too well aware that they’re underfunded and understaffed. But sometimes these things are a big tap dance.

Thousands of demons armed with radioactive warheads could ride a tidal wave into the city and we’d still hear how we were just fine because there’s a group of 3 spanking-new recruits about to graduate from the academy, and really, this time they mean it, the crime cameras will be up and working any day now.

For example: after much discussion of more serious problems, someone asked about graffiti, which has become a problem, post-K. The response is that they’re keeping an eye out. But it was proudly mentioned that Nola Rising has been issued a summons for stapling their art onto electric poles.

Seriously? I mean, I guess the Nola Rising guys are easy to find, what with their website address conveniently located on the fliers.

Jeez.