Orycon I

Matisse makes a drawing, then he makes a copy of it. He recopies it five times, ten times, always clarifying the line. He's convinced that the last, the most stripped down, is the best, the purest, the definitive one; and in fact, most of the time, it was the first. In drawing, nothing is better than the first attempt.
-- Pablo Picasso

Friday, November 12, 1999
One year ago: A Coach Bag

I spent a quiet morning getting ready for this weekend's Portland trip, but I didn't get all that I had planned accomplished -- the rain deterred me from taking out the trash. I talked to Jack on the phone before he left his home. He was so happy that the cable modem had been installed, but because he wanted to configure his computers in a non-default way, it wasn't quite working yet. Finally he called: he was on his way (with daughter A----- who would spend the weekend at her mother's place); he was north of Everett and traffic was bad (the rain again!); would I drive to somewhere on 405, the bypass highway on the other side of Lake Washington, and meet him? This was a sudden change of plan, but I thought for a moment, and volunteered to go over to my office, park there, and meet him in the driveway. I managed to convey where the building was, despite not remembering the exact street names.

It was raining hard and visibility was terrible! I was glad that Jack was going to be driving, not me. I zipped into the garage and parked, not far from my normal space, so I'll be able to remember where my car is on Monday afternoon. Jack's van was already pulled up on the brick driveway/plaza, but he hadn't been waiting long.

We headed south. A---, showing her unrealistic view of her current life situation, asked if we could stop in Redmond so she could see her former friends. No, said Jack, we had a long trip ahead of us and we didn't have time. Well, when could she see her friends? Jack said it would take planning and arranging ahead of time. (I'm sure that she probably thinks of her old crowd more than they ever think of her, since she's the one who left. Think of the kid who just never came back that next year at school -- did you spend much time wondering where she was? There are some parents there that we know don't want their kids having anything to do with A----, deeming them bad influences on each other.)

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The trip down to Portland was smooth, although the rain and spray made seeing the road difficult. We arrived at the Oxford Suites, checked in, and got the breakfast tokens and drink tokens we were entitled to. I've never used one of those drink tokens yet, after staying at this hotel for several years; the "cocktail reception" or whatever they call it is in the early evening, when I have better things to do than hang around this non-convention hotel.

We walked across the parking lot and under the bridge, and made our way to the Doubletree Hotel Portland Columbia River (the formal name). Registration was smooth. Jack had done some advance planning, looking for program items that would interest him, so we walked up the stairs to check out "The Mind-machine Interface," already in progress. Jack was looking for his buddy Forrest Bishop, but didn't see him on the panel. We found out later that he'd been sitting right there! We went into the dealers room, right next door. Jack was very happy to find a large collection of illustrations by his favorite Japanese anime artist, Masamune Shirow.

We looked through that book, Intron Depot 2, while waiting in line for the Orycon 21 opening ceremonies. Jack teasingly was drooling over the big-breasted, long-legged anime cuties depicted. I can't compete in the legs or weaponry department, but I don't think anyone in the real world could! So I wasn't bothered. The drawings were gorgeous! I was especially interested in a series of CD covers drawn for some classical music CDs that had been released as "selected by Shirow."

Jack hates waiting in line. They didn't open the doors for the opening ceremonies at the scheduled time, so he decided to go back to his van and start carrying party supplies up to the third-floor suite where his Bellingham buddies would be throwing a Vikingcon party later in the evening. I saved him a seat when (of course) we were allowed into the hall shortly after he left.

The opening ceremonies skit was on the rough side, but it was still funny. They used a superhero theme, playing off the Mystery Men movie (Mystery Fen in this case; "fen" is the fannish plural for fan). I laughed enough that I was glad we saw it. Jack did show up a few minutes after the beginning.

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After the convention was officially open, we stopped by the fan lounge. This is the best place in the con, for me! We are really fortunate: a convenient, quiet suite where fanzine fans (and any other who wish to join us; it's open) can talk, refresh ourselves, and generally socialize. This is where we had Art Widner's 80th birthday party two years ago, and Amy and Ed's party last year. Tonight I made this my home base, in between visits to the Vikingcon party where Jack was working, and touring through the other parties going on in the wing.

I had fun, and talked to some good folks, but I got tired long before Jack was done with Vikingcon. He's on the committee, and the purpose of the lively party (the best that night) was to sell memberships to the con, which is happening next August in Bellingham. I made my way back to our hotel room around two in the morning -- he didn't get in until four thirty!