|
||
|
|
|
|
||
|
|
||
Life is all memory except for the one present moment that goes by you so quick you hardly catch it going. |
Saturday, June 12, 1999
One year ago: Artists
Two years ago: Names are Everything
Today, a year ago, was the first time Jack and I met face to face. At that time, I was meeting a fair number of men, through placing and answering personal ads. I'd wondered if we were ever going to get together, since there had been a few gaps in our correspondence during the six weeks we'd been writing each other. It's not unusual for an email exchange to just peter out that way, but I'd been persistent. That's why I was pleased and surprised when I got a phone call from Jack (I think that was the first time he called me) that suggested we meet for coffee that very afternoon.
I remember seeing him through the glass, in the lobby of building thirty one. We walked to the cafeteria, got our drinks, and sat outside in the sun. Then (too soon!) I had to get going to the film festival, so I walked with him around the outside of the building, back to where he was parked. I remember saying something like "Well, what do you think? I think we could go out, don't you?" It's so obvious that I don't like things being ambiguous! He hemmed and hawed a bit, since I'd certainly caught him unawares, and talked about being busy, so I thought we might not be going out at all!
I liked him and found him attractive, though.
* * * * * * * *
Jack had to wake up earlier than he wanted to, since he was driving down to Olympia this morning to pick up his younger daughter H----. He asked me where I'd be when he got back. "In programming, the dealers room, the art show, or hospitality!" I said, helpfully. But really the hotel isn't that large, so I was sure he'd find me.
The first panel I went to was "Writing Outside the Cultural Box," with Donna "Desert Peach" Barr, Octavia Butler, and Amy Thomson. The discussion actually did keep looping back to this topic, between divergences to The Phantom Menace and other random cruft. Each panelist got her chance to be heard. I wonder if you can write outside the cultural box you are in, really. An author's deepest beliefs and biases aren't easily amenable to self-awareness -- a fish doesn't know about the water it's swimming in. Amy got het up about Afghanistan at the end of the panel, when one audience member kept asking why the US was ignoring all the bad stuff happening there. "It's a broken culture, and it's been broken for a long time!" So probably we can't fix it. (my paraphrase)
* * * * * * * *
Jack came back a little before noon. We were going to switch to a suite for this night, but it wasn't ready yet, so we were to check back at the desk after lunch.
Where did we want to eat? At the barbecue place, of course! The Cave Man Kitchens were listed as "south" of the hotel location in the restaurant guide in our convention program book, so I drove off in that direction. Just when we were about to give up, we spotted it on the side of the road. It's obviously a real, authentic, wood-smoked BBQ joint. They apparently had a fire sometime last year, but had moved into the storefront across the way. There were still many picnic tables on the grass.
While we were waiting for our orders, I read one of the restaurant business magazines that they had in a rack. I used to read these quite a bit, when I'd go to the college library and scan all the magazines in the reading room. It's amazing to see the products that are marketed to restaurant owners.
We'd taken off to the BBQ place on our own, but several more cars of folks from Foolscap arrived shortly afterwards. Marci saw a better place for us to eat; there were picnic tables in a park-like area with some open shade that we hadn't seen, which was why we were sitting in the hot sun.
The food was really good! They bake their own bread, crusty baguette-style loaves, so a bbq chicken sandwich is a different proposition here than the meat between wonderbread I've had other places. I could actually pick the sandwich up and eat it! Jack and I also split some good, rich, bread pudding. I like this place! A good followup to an expedition to IKEA, perhaps.
We also had some wildlife sightings -- ladybug larvae, a tiny hopping spider, and some unidentified arthropods. Jane Hawkins, H---, and I enjoyed that!
* * * * * * * *
I felt guilty that I ended up enjoying the next program item by myself, while Jack and H---- dealt with moving to our fancy suite. We had a presentation by Paul Chadwick, the artist Guest of Honor. He showed slides from his career. One of the things he did a lot of when he was starting out: sketches for movie posters. He's also done storyboards for movies, too.
The second panel for the afternoon was a discussion of Butler's story "Bloodchild," moderated by Ian Haggeman. It's been a while since I read the story. Butler said distinctly, what she had said in the afterword in the story collection by the same name, that it's not a story about slavery. But it does seem like there's not a balance of power between the humans and non-humans, to me. We also talked about the other stories in the book. Jack and H---- were present for part of this, but H--- wasn't too interested, so Jack took her to the dealers' room and art show, which was fine.
We finally got into our fancy suite! It was really nice, except for still needing a rollaway bed for H---. We had a balcony overlooking the Duwamish River, a Jacuzzi big enough for two, and three TVs! It was really worth the extra money. And we got it at a discout because of the reservation being lost, which made it all the better
I tried to tolerate "Is Too Much SF Written from a White Male Point-of-View?" but I just got annoyed by it. Greg Bear wanted to keep talking about his annoyance and gripes about the Tiptree awards. He really didn't let Ian Haggeman talk, and it was just the two of them on the panel! I was surprised; I hadn't seen him do this "McClaughlin Report" thing before. So I left after twenty minutes or so, and spent some time in the hospitality suite.
* * * * * * * *
Jack, H---, and I went off to Happy Teriyaki. This is a chain that's common in Olympia, but there aren't too many of them around here. Jack and H--- were very happy (oops!) to find it! We stopped at Borders to buy Amy's book, but they didn't have it yet, then got some ice cream at the 7-11 near the hotel and ate it on our balcony. As the evening drew in, we enjoyed the birdsong and the view.
We missed the programming at six-thirty, so we next turned up for the game show thing, "What's My Line?" This wasn't the old TV show; it was a panel format of quotes and bluffing. Jack volunteered to be in the first round, playing against Jon Singer. They were very close! Jack won, by one point, then had to match villains with the weapons that could kill them in the lightning round at the end. I volunteered for the second round, but Kate Yule whooped my ass!
Things quieted down early in the con suite, which disappointed some people, I thnk; we left around eleven thirty. Jack and I shared the Jacuzzi, which really felt great! I don't know if it really made Jack's back feel better, but one thinks that the hot water and bubbles are doing something.
|