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Saturday, April 22, 2000
I was able to sleep a bit later today, since I'd left Jack at the convention last night. His plan had been to crash in the room where the VikingCon party was held, then drive down to Olympia when he woke up and pick up his daughter H----. I left him a message on the voodoo message board, letting him know which program item I'd be attending. I did this several times during this weekend, but I don't think Jack ever had occasion to look at those messages -- I either saw him in the lobby at various times, or found him elsewhere.
I found Jack and H---- in the lobby around eleven. He was running on about four hours sleep, since the party had lasted until five in the morning! He and H---- decided to tour around in the dealers' room and art show, while I went off on my own.
In my quest to learn more about Artist Guest of Honor Barclay Shaw, I went to his slide show. I was impressed! The most unusual thing he's done lately is a star-trek style war room for some sort of military command center. He had slides of various visualizations, then had a computer animated walk-through. He said the government folks were actually able to make decisions about finish materials from seeing the video.
It was almost noon by the time this was done; I met up with the others and we decided to grab some lunch -- Taco Bell was right across the street. I wanted to get back for a talk by the "Killer Bs" of SF writing -- David Brin and Greg Benford were joined by Seattle author Greg Bear. The three of them discussed why in the world they had each written a novel in a posthumous Foundation trilogy, based on Isaac Asimov's work. I went into this with a disapproving attitude, but Brin actually succeeded in changing my mind, a bit (but I haven't read these recent books). He talked about how Asimov would write a novel, summing up his ideas on a topic. Then, a few years later, doubt would creep in, he'd reconsider, then write another book that would present the other side. So Brin put it that these writers were doing the writing that Asimov didn't have a chance to. There's some merit in this!
The rest of the discussion was lively and amusing -- Bear and Benford both teased Brin quite a bit.
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I'd noticed that my friend Syne Mitchell (from Vanguard and Microsoft) was going to be reading, so I ran along to the reading room next. She had already started when I got there, so I sidled along the edge of the room and grabbed a seat. She was reading a selection (I found out when she was done) from her novel that will be published by Tor (I think!) this fall. It was very suspenseful! The heroine was scrambling around the outside of a spaceship under accelleration. I couldn't help thinking about Mission to Mars, and how unhappy Jack had been about some scientific gaffes in the movie. But I'm sure Syne got it all correct!
H--- had signed up to do some stage managing just like her dad. She handled a belly dancing workshop that was across the hall from the big "Rare Earth or Many Edens" debate, which Jack was stage managing. This latter was a very popular item! Brin, Benford, Bear, Peter Douglas Ward (author of the book), John Cramer, Burt Webb, and William Calvin, all took sides in a debate about the rarity or commonness of earthlike planets, and of such planets with complex life forms. So many factors to consider that it's still impossible to come to any definite decisions. I did find this interesting.
H--- did fine with her dance program (but she said she didn't try the dancing herself, which I call a shame!). Jack checked on her, but not too often.
Next, we moved down to the hall where hospitality and the volunteer lounge were. We weren't there to rest, though! Jack had signed up to manage another item. He sent H--- to go volunteer in hospitality, where they set her to cutting up fruit, I think. (Yes, I did feel slightly guilty at all the volunteering going on, while I didn't do one hour of it. But I did my share at Potlatch and Corflu, so there!) The discussion Jack and I went to was moderated by Jack Beslanowitch, about internet resources for writers. I mainly went to support Jack Bes; I didn't think I'd find out about net stuff that I didn't already know, and I was right. In true internet fashion, though, a sudden, hot flame war broke out, right there in real life! One of the panelists seemed to accuse another of self-promotion. The accused panelist declared himself fed up, and bolted! The accuser then settled down to do a good chunk of self-promotion on her own part. Jack Bes was rather appalled and mortified! But it was all over in a few minutes, and I don't think the audience was very upset.
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The three of us went accross the street to dinner. We were going to go to Pizza Hut. But when we walked it, they said they were closed! The ovens had broken down, so, no pizza. I suggested we just walk down the block and see what the next restaurant was. It turned out to be Sharp's Roaster, a related restaurant to the Kirkland Roaster. I was amused that they were so unused to pedestrian traffic that we had to scramble up a dirt slope to get to the building's front door.
The Roaster specializes in, of course, roast meat. We had pork, ham, turkey (but I don't remember who had what). It was good, and remarkably quick, since they weren't busy when we walked in, and the food was already cooked and just needed to be sliced. Jack was really getting tired, and caffeine wasn't helping. "The receptors must be worn out for today!" he said. I thought we'd be going home early.
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H---- wanted to see the masquerade, so I went with her. Jack went to hang around and help elsewhere. We should have gotten to the masquerade earlier, if we'd wanted a good seat! We were in the back and on the side. But, since we were against the wall, H--- could creep up on her chair once the show started, and get a reasonable view.
We did have to wait a long time, but it finally started. H---- was interested in the novice and journeyman costumers, since if she tried next year, she'd be a novice. There were some good costumes, but I do think it would be attainable for her if she wants to do it! And it would be fun, I'm sure.
When we finally got out of the show (after about an hour and a half!), Jack was working registration. H--- and I were recruited into a balloon-wielding, kazoo-blowing, hat-wearing parade, which was intended to entice people to come to the foolscap party. I went along, since I'd decided we needed to buy memberships anyway. I did enjoy poking (almost goosing) people with the long balloon as we marched along.
I think it was eleven before we coaxed Jack away from his work at the registration desk. So much for an early night! But we were home and asleep soon enough.
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