Thursday, 4th August, 2005
Getting There
A frighteningly early start to the day. By the time my flight to Glasgow took off at 7am, I had already been awake for just over four hours. My brother-in-law Gary also had a very early start that day, as he was working somewhere close to Stonehenge, and he volunteered to drop me off at the airport. I was not surprised when I found that I was the first person in the queue to check-in at 5am.
I met Peter Grehan in the Departure Lounge. I knew from the TIMELESS mailing list that Peter was also going to the WorldCon. Apparently, Rev. Hook, the lecturer from the University of Glamorgan SF course would also be there.
Although I had booked via BMI Baby, the flight was Air Wales. The plane was an ATR42, very appropriate for a flight to a SF convention.
I have no problems with flight, or with landings, but for some reason take-off scares the beejaysus out of me, so I was cringing until we were well and truly airborne. The flight itself was pretty uneventful. I recognised Penrhys Estate on the mountain top through my port side window, and realised I was flying over Porth, then up the Cynon Valley, and over the Brecon Beacons. At this point, I fell asleep. Next thing I knew, the plane was making its final approach to Prestwick Internataional Airport.
During the 45 minute journey to Glasgow from Prestwick, I passed through Troon, the home town of Sylvester McCoy, and Paisley, the home town of David Tennant.
I was met by Sharon, Pepper and Jonjo, on the concourse of Glasgow Central Station, and I was sudden struck by how much they looked like the characters Gwenevere, Morgan and Arthur from the Arthur, King of Space and Time webcomic, which I had spent the previous evening re-reading. We went straight to the SECC, where they were busily setting up the sales table from which ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha, the official Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy Appreciation Society, would be attempting to recruit new members and selling its merchandise to fans. First I had to pick up my membership pack At Registration. Business at Registration was brisk, which was not surprising, this being the opening day of the convention, never-the-less I only had to queue for 5 minutes. Then I had to get my programme participant’s pack, containing a sticker with the times and locations of the two panels I was taking part in and more importantly the orange Programme Participant ribbon to hang proudly from my badge.
The Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre
Interaction, like the previous Scottish Worldcon, was being held at the Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre, Congress Road, Partick, Glasgow, on the north bank of the River Clyde. This used to be in the Docklands of Glasgow, however, the area has had some serious urban regeneration over the past two decades, and apart from the Tall Ship and the Crane, there is precious little evidence remaining of its maritime past. Last time the Worldcon was in Glasgow, the urban regeneration was just beginning, the SECC was surrounded by acres and acres of derelict land. The regeneration work is still a work in progress, however, a lot has been done to the old Queens Dock. The addition of the Clyde Auditorium, known locally as the Armadillo and the fact that the Rotunda buildings are now being used (the North Bank one is very good oriental restaurant, more of which later), make the site considerably more welcoming. Ten years ago, the site was doubly uninviting because the railway station had suffered serious damage during spring floods and was closed. This time around, the trains were running and everything was much more accessible. Ten years ago, the SECC was much more basic, only having large halls subdivided by moveable partitions for the programme. This time there were a number of smaller conference rooms and auditoriums to accommodate the programme.
Pay Attention 007
One my lasting mementoes of Interaction will be the three tiny scars on my left forearm, remnants of where I tipped coffee on myself. Once the ZZ9 sales table was up and running, I went to grab something to eat. I got a rather nice Chicken and Bacon Ciabatta and a cup of black coffee from one of the Cafe Riazza stall on the SECC concourse. Then I spot her, the drop dead gorgeous woman in the Tartan miniskirt and knee length brown leather boots. I stopped concentrating on the scalding hot coffee I was drinking, and the fact that the little hole on the lip of the lid was no longer positioned over my mouth. Net result, was that my left arm is covered in hot liquid. Like a flash I removed my sodden jumper cleaned as much of the burning coffee as possible of my skin, which was now an angry red colour. I dashed into the branch of McColls, and straight to the cold drinks cabinet, where I picked the coldest bottle of Vanilla Coke I could find, and rested it on the now throbbing skin, it sat there whilst I queued to pay for it; “Would like a bag for that?”. “No thank you, I’ll carry it”.
Relief was instantaneous, however, I am faced with a problem, I cannot carry the bottle openly back into the dealer’s room, as I do not have a purple Dealer’s ribbon. So for a few minutes the bottle goes into my shoulder bag, leaving the three remaining angry spots exposed for a short period of time. By the time I was back behind the dealers table, nursing my arm three nasty little second degree burns were clearly visible.
The Naming Ceremony
Throughout the weekend, the SECC was referred to as Spaceport Glasgow – Earth’s Busiest Spaceport. This was all part of the theatricality that goes with a modern Worldcon. The opening ceremony was renamed the Naming Ceremony, in which the White Star Federated Starline’s (aka the World Science Fiction Society’s) latest ship, the WSFS Armadillo (aka the Worldcon) was due to be named. This livened up the usual series of speeches and thankyous that happen in an opening ceremony. There was also a greeting to the SF fans of the World by a member of Glasgow City Council, who was highly delighted that over four thousand people were visiting the city, sleeping in the city’s hotels, eating in the city’s restaurants, spending in the city’s shops; over what would have been a very quiet weekend. Following the opening ceremony, there was a Civic Reception. This meant one thing, free booze at the Council Tax Paying citizens of Glasgow’s expense.
At the reception, I started chatting to Greg Pickersgill, the Fan Guest of Honour for the Convention. We discussed the various merits of flying to Glasgow and coming up on a train. He and his wife had come up by train, as they lives to far from an airport for there to be any benefit in flying. Not surprisingly he was highly delighted to be there. He has been involved in SF fandom for years, his Memory Hole project, which archives old SF Fanzines is a remarkable project, keeping alive the memory of how fans viewed the World in the past. We did have a slight difference of opinion on how to treat the Press. Mr. P. was of the opinion that no matter how sympathetic a journalist might sound at the convention, the finished article would always mention Star Trek costume wearing losers being anally retentive for a weekend, so journalists should be treated with disdain. I said that surely this was due to sub-editors rewriting stories, and the only way to guarantee that the sub-editors of the future did not do this, was by looking after them when they were cub-reporters. I was told that I was living in cloud cuckoo land. By this point we had been joined by Peter Weston, the man who owns the company that makes the Hugo statuettes. He was firmly of the opinion that all journalists should be told to “×××× ×××!” before they got through the front door, and he wonders why fans are painted as nerds and sad acts.
I have to confess that I got ever so slightly legless at the reception. Not really surprising, as I had been up nearly 12 hours (not counting the uncomfortable nap on the plane), and had only had what worked out to be four slices of bread during that period. The Council supplied red wine was potent and dangerously drinkable stuff, which is why the one glass soon became a second and then a third. When Sharon started talking about the machine at work that automated the test for prostate cancer, I suddenly became very emotional, and burst into tears. A fair sign that it was time to make my way to my hotel room.
Fortunately I had enough wits about me to phone the Ibis, to let them know I was still coming, it was approaching 6pm, and I did not really want to run the risk of them releasing the room because I had not turned up. So, I retrieved my suitcase from the Dealer’s room, just before Hall 5 was due to close, and caught the next train to Glasgow Central.
In hindsight, I should really have got off the train at Anderston, which was a short hop from the Ibis. However, not knowing Glasgow that well, I continued on to the familiar territory of the Central Station. Big mistake, huge mistake, mistake of massive proportions. Glasgow’s city centre is built on a series of hills on the North bank of the Clyde. This makes the city centre the San Francisco of Scotland. So, there was I dragging a 17 kilo suitcase, which seemed to be getting heavier by the second, up Hope Street, and then West Regent Street, beginning to regret drinking so much wine on an empty stomach. Just when I thought I had reached the end of my tether, I reached the brow of Blythswood Hill, and at the bottom of the slope was my Hotel.
The Dark Side
Despite the fact that there was no Site Selection Ballot at this year’s Worldcon, bidding having switched from three years in advance to two years at Noreascon 4 last year, there were still Bid Parties to go to. All members of Interaction will have the right to vote in the Site Sellection Ballot for the 2008 Worldcon, the result of which will be announced at LACon IV next year. So canvassing still goes on and future bids makie themselves known, such as Australia in 2010. Finally confirmed future Worldcons like Nippon2007 and LACon IV are out to attract attending members. To this end, all the function space in the Glasgow Hilton had been booked by the Worldcon for Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, it was the Official Party Hotel, every room on the Third and Fourth floor had some sort of party in it. And for me, the best part of any convention is the nightlife, and Worldcons have that in spades.
So after a shave, a shower and a bite to eat at my hotel, I was ready to experience the Dark Side of the Con.
The first party I wandered into was hosted by the bid for Denver in 2008, which I had pre-supported earlier that day at the SECC. They had lots of free booze and nibbles at the party, including some very interesting cheese. Next-door was the Party for people who had been to four European Worldcons, which I was not allowed into as although I had been to four Worldcons, one of them was in the USA, so it didn’t count. Not that I was too worried, let the boring old farts have their fun, there were far more interesting parties to explore. One of the most interesting parties was the one organised by the Tolkein Society, which featured a variety of ciders, apple juices, apple tarts and scones with jam.
The last party of the evening was at Sharon and Jonjo’s flat. They were staying at the Spires, a managed apartment building on Bothwell Street. Half a dozen of us wandered there from the Hilton, and were generally impressed by how nice the flat was. The flat had a huge balcony, and if the weather had been better, Sharon said they would have organised a barbecue for the night. However, everything on the balcony was damp, so Sharon cooked her guests pizza and garlic bread. As the evening wore on, the more tired I was beginning to feel. Not surprising really, so as the clock crept around to midnight, I made my excuses, and returned by cab to my hotel. Although, I probably did more harm to myself when I slipped in my hotel room and banged my head so hard that I saw flashing white light, than I would have done walking home that night.
Friday, 5th August, 2005
Gripe #1
I was on a panel at 10am on Friday morning, and needed to be in the Green Room twenty minutes before the panel started. So I asked for a wake-up call when I checked in to the hotel, and again before I turned in for the night. Did I get it? No I did not. Given that I was woken by every single wake-up call for the rest of the weekend, I can only assume that despite booking it twice, no one at reception bothered to make a note of it. So, when I eventually woke up on Friday morning, at 10.12am, I knew that there was no way I was going to be able get to the SECC in time for my panel on Blake’s 7, unless of course I sprouted wings and flew there.
Gripe #2
I had been told when I checked in, that breakfast finished at 12pm on a Friday. So, I leisurely prepared for the day, planning on being at the convention by 11am, when the first item in the Doctor Who stream started. When I got down to the restaurant, I was told that they had finished serving breakfast, and when I said what I had been told, the lady running the restaurant said that I had been misinformed and late breakfast was only Saturday and Sunday.
Harrumph!
Friday Morning Blues
As you can imagine, I was not in the best of moods as I headed to the SECC. Just to put a tin lid on the morning, it started to rain. Fortunately, I was outside Charring Cross station, so I decided that instead of walking to the SECC, as I had done many times ten years earlier, I would catch a train. The SPT and Scotrail have brand spanking new trains. Very comfortable, very streamlined, very nice. My journey took me via Partick Station. A sign at Exhibition Centre Station had said that Anderston Station closed on Sundays, I made a note of this journey, as I would be repeating it in a few days.
So, I made my way to the Green Room, to make my apologies for being late. Not to worry they said, these things happen. Cathy Westhead, who was manning the Green Room desk gave me a Green Room token anyway, although I didn’t have the heart to use it. I just sat there and read a newspaper. It was then I realised that the two young adults talking to her were her children. Oh boy did I feel old. The last time I had seen them was on the way to ConYak, the Beneluxcon in 1993. In my minds eye they were still the little waifs trudging with their parents and me, thoroughly lost, in the freezing fog, through a dodgy area of Amsterdam, on a cold November night. Yes, I know that was twelve years ago, and children do a lot of growing up in the intervening years, but it still came as one hell of a shock.
The clock slowly moved on to 10.50am, and I left the Green Room, to watch the 11am item in the Loch Lomond Auditorium.
Then and Now : at the Worldcon
Ten years ago, I don’t think there was a single item on Interaction’s programme connected to Doctor Who, and why should there have been. At that point, the series had been out of production for six years, and despite the fact the TV Movie was just around the corner, looked dead and buried. What a difference a decade makes. With the return of the series to mainstream popularity earlier in this year, there was little doubt that Doctor Who would feature in the Interaction programme.
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First item was on Friday morning, a panel moderated by Paul Cornell about the best year of Doctor Who. It was soon agreed that there was no best year, different people loved different eras, that the old adage that the Doctor Who you saw when you were 12 years old will always be your favourite was proved to be true. So the panel descended into a nostalgiafest, with Paul Cornell encouraging people in the audience to recount their favourite Doctor Who Moment.
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On Saturday morning at 10am, there was a panel moderated by Gary Russell and featuring Paul Cornell and Rob Shearman on writing for the new series.
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Saturday evening at 6pm saw a screening of Father’s Day and a question and answer session with Paul Cornell.
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There was another Doctor Who panel at 10am on Sunday morning, which I missed.
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Sunday Afternoon at 2pm saw a screening of Dalek and a question and answer session with Rob Shearman.
A constant theme throughout the various panels over the weekend was the bafflement at why nobody in the US was showing the new series, when it seemed as if just about everywhere else in the World was. US SF fans, who were not Doctor Who fans, and had had their first experience of the series all fell in love with it. So, more people to lobby the various US broadcasters to get the series shown over there.
YAFA, YAFA, YAFA
The thing about Worldcons is that they are adult things, parents drag their children along, and if there is nothing on the programme that appeals to the youngsters, then it can be a pretty boring weekend. This year however, James Bacon and his friends were running YAFA, the Young Adults Fun Activities stream. It covered all the bases, science, art, games and anything else James and crew could think of. The children at Interaction were divided into two categories; 0-10 year olds were classed Satellites, in constant orbit of a parent body. The 11-18 year olds were classed as Comets, able to freely roam through the system. Naturally, the people running YAFA had had all the usual background checks by Strathclyde Police, so the whole thing was fully licensed.
Amongst other things over the course of the weekend, an old Peugeot 206 was repainted and redecorated, a fanzine, the YAFAzine, was produced and entry in the Masquerade was put together. So the kids were happy, and so were their parents.
One event organised by YAFA that sticks in my memory was on Friday morning, This featured a large amount of liquid nitrogen. Amongst other things it involved watching items get very cold and shatter in interesting ways when removed from their cryogenic bath. However, of most interest to the kids was the instant ice-cream. Well, what better use is there for liquid nitrogen than pouring it into a vanilla custard, stirring rapidly, and after all the gas had evaporated off, eating the product. The science being that the gas disappeared so quickly that any ice crystals that formed, didn’t have time to get very large, and as small ice crystals are what makes a good ice-cream, the gas was ideal for the purpose. I have no idea what the ice-cream tasted like, but the kiddies enjoyed it.
The Masquerade entry was based on the film Shaun of the Dead, and consisted of half a dozen adult and a dozen children dressing as zombies, under the control of James dressed as the lead character from the film, complete with cricket bat. I honestly think that the people running the YAFA were having far more fun than any of the children taking part.
A Quick Wander
So much was happening, information overload. I spotted Mike Bernardi, who runs the Bujold Nexus, the official Lois McMaster Bujold web site, and asked him if Ms Bujold would be at the convention. Unfortunately, he said, she had a publisher’s deadline that week, so couldn’t make it. This was a shame, as she is my favourite author. I had been planning on getting a hall costume of the Barayaran Dress Blue and Scarlet uniform, made for this convention but changed my mind before work on it begun. It would have been fun to have my photo taken with Ms. Bujold in the uniform, but as she was not in town, having the costume made it would have been a wasted effort.
In the USA, only successful authors get their new novels printed in hardback editions, However, over the past few years, the NESFA Press which belongs to the New England Science Fiction Association, has been reprinting new hardback editions of previously paperback only titles by many authors. The NESFA Press had a sales table in the Dealers Room. Amongst their stock of new hadbacks were a selection of early Vorkosigan novels by Lois McMaster Bujold that had only been available in paperback. If I didn’t buy anything else at the convention this weekend, I was determined to buy the hardback editions of the Bujold books. The only Bujold Vorkosigan novel that NESFA have yet to release is the Hugo winning Barrayar, but the rights to that remain with Baen, who originally published it in paperback in 1995. To my unalloyed joy, when I got back to my hotel room that evening, I discovered that the copies of Ethan of Athos and Falling Free were autographed.
One of the most interesting exhibits was the collection of Hugo Awards down the ages. Each Worldcon Committee designs its own Hugo, over the past few years, the rocket statuette, made by Pete Weston’s company in the West Midlands, has become standardised. However, the base still changes each year, thus making each year’s award unique. My favourite base is the 1996 Hugo, awarded by LACon III, which is a film can, with the rocket illuminated by miniature spotlights. I wonder how LACon IV next year will top that.
A Question?
What the hell does “mahingee” mean anyway? James Bacon persuaded everyone that it was a Gaelic greeting, and it became a catchphrase of the group of people I was spending most of my time with. Knowing James, it probably means something not repeatable in polite conversation, however, I have found the word méar, in an online Gaelic dictionary means “fun”, so it could very well be a Scots Gaelic greeting. I know that if it is a real Gaelic word, there is no way I have spelt it properly, Gaelic uses its five vowels and thirteen constinants in a manner that defies all logic. Bearing that in mind, the word is probably spelt méarhighidh.
Beating the Record
The Dealers Room in Hall 5 of the SECC shut at 6pm, which was the time that the last of the punters and dealers had to be out of the room so it could be secured for the night. Naturally, that was the theory and it never works that way in practice. Sometimes Worldcon Dealers Rooms have people in them up to an hour after closing. However, Interaction now holds the record for emptying and sealing the Dealers Room. It took just 28 minutes on Friday night, shattering the previous record of 45 minutes held by ConJosé.
Sausage Supper
With the Dealers Room empty in record time, myself, Sharon, Jonjo and Pepper piled into a taxi back to the city centre. Sharon and Pepper got off at the flat, Jonjo and I went down to get our food from the Blue Lagoon chip shop by the Central Station. The Taxi Driver informed us that in Glasgow, when ordering Battered Sausage and Chips, we had to ask for a Sausage Supper and likewise fish and chips would be a Fish Supper. So armed with this local knowledge, off we went to the chip shop.
To my surprise, I had the best fish and chips I have ever had in my life. The cod was white and flaky, the batter was perfect, and the chips were dry and crunchy on the outside and lovely and soft on the inside. So, if ever you are in Glasgow and are a bit peckish, I heartily recommend the Blue Lagoon.
Party Time Again
Going back to my hotel was not a good idea. I just lay down on my bed and fell into a deep sleep. So deep that I missed the play on at the Armadillo, Lucas Back in Anger, which was the latest production Iain Sorrenson and the Reductico ad Absurdiam theatre company. It was the entire six film Star Wars series reduced into an hour and a half.
When I roused myself, had a shave and a shower, I made my way down to the Hilton, chatting with a couple of fellow Bujold fans about the future of the Vorkosigan series.
Undoubtedly, the coolest party of the night was the ZZ9/YAFA Staff party, which featured a pair of miniature bouncy castles. The problem wasthat the ZZ9 party was being held in the smallest rooms on the third floor, so there was not a lot of space left for the party once the castles were in place. Although perhaps the most fun of the whole evening was well after midnight when the bouncy castles had to be deflated, and half a dozen adults piled onto the toy designed for children, in a frenzied and ultimately failed attempt to get it back into the box it came out off. Still, it was fun trying.
The biggest party of the night was the Nippon 2007 party organised by the Japanese Worldcon committee, it featured Sake, Sushi and green tea. Except by the time we got there, there was precious little Sake left, and all the sushi had been scarfed. All that remained were a few suspicious looking grains of rice. However, there were grapes on the table, and with one hand I was putting grapes into my mouth, and with the other, I was rolling the rice into a ball. I think you can guess what happened next. When I ate the funny tasting grape, I elicited a cry of “ach-y-fi” from Sharon, and I instantly knew what I had done. Whilst at the party, Jonjo and I were talking to the UK agent for the convention, Andrew Adams. We discussed the cheapest flights to Japan, unfortunately the convention is in high season. We also discussd what would be the best way to see the sights, whether as an independent traveller, or as part of an organised trip. Personally I would prefer go in an organised trip. It is true that an independent traveller might see something really interesting that the organised trip would miss, however, it is also true that the independent traveller could find his or herself on a slow train going away from all the things to see. At the end of the evening, I was more determined than ever to sign up for Nippon 2007.
Strangest sight of the evening has to be the Klingon in a kilt. The top half of the costume was formal Klingon, complete with “pasty” on the forehead, the bottom half was a formal dress kilt. The whole get-up was just fundamentally wrong. Being proud of my Scottish ancestry, cannot begin to define the wrongness of this combination, something about it offended every single inch of my inner Scot.
Saturday, 6th August, 2005
Gripe #3
I made sure that they wrote down that I wanted a wake up call before I went to bed, and guess what, at 8am, my phone rung, loud enough to wake me up, and every single morning following, when I made sure the reception wrote down that I wanted a wake up call, I got one. So I suspect that even though I asked twice on Thursday, no one on the desk made a note of my request. It is looking more and more likely that I had not slept through my alarm on Friday Morning, but that I had not received an alarm call on Friday morning.
Gripe #4
I am sure that when I booked my hotel room, Infotel, the booking agent said that the Ibis served both Continental and Full English breakfasts. So, you can imagine my horror, when I arrived at the restaurant to find that only a Continental Breakfast was being served. Now call me old fashioned, but when I am away on holiday, I expect my hotel to supply real food that has been properly fried. I cannot imagine that I would have booked a hotel that only offers cereal and party snacks.
Another fun filled morning
It was a lovely sunny day. Getting off the train at Exhibition Centre Station, I had a song in my heart, despite the fact that I had not had a proper breakfast in my stomach.
The sunshine was making the Perspex covered walkway that connected the station to the SECC very hot, it was warm enough to grow tomatoes in there.
First thing on the agenda was the Doctor Who panel in the Loch Lomond Auditorium. This was followed by a few hours behind the ZZ9 sales table, selling merchandise to the members of the convention. It was a remarkably busy time, it seemed everyone wanted to buy a beeblebear. I was most impressed that I sold one to an American lady and I noticed that her name was Elizabeth Bear, which was very appropriate. As she was handing over her cash, (I wondered if she was any relation to the author Greg Bear). Of course, it wasn’t until the Monday Morning edition of the convention newsletter The Port Authority that I realised that I had sold something to the winner of this year’s John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer.
After shuffling out of the Dealers room, I spent a half an hour sitting on the door, checking that only convention members went into the dealers room. Initially, Jonjo had asked me to go to the gopher hole and get someone to cover the door with Sharon, but I had great difficulty getting through the the German lady on duty there that someone was needed at that moment, she kept saying that there were people rostered to take over at 2pm. So in the end, I signed up as a volunteer, got a pink ribbon (which I subsequently lost) and went and did the job myself.
How to Waste 15 Minutes
If you use the Internet a lot, then you will know that when you go away, backlogs of email and other stuff build up, and it is really no good spending anything less than an evening sorting through it when you get home. So the 15 minutes I had booked on one of the PC’s in Hall 2’s Internet Café was a complete waste of time, as in the limited amount of computer time I didn’t even scratch the surface. In the three days since I had last looked at my email, 200 new messages had arrived in my in-box. About 25% of it was the spam that had managed to get through the Feathermail filters, so could be ignored. Another wedge was updates from RSS feeds, so I could safely ignore them as well. However, that still left about 100 emails that I wanted to read. Plus there was the Outpost Gallifrey web site that I wanted to have a look at, and as if by magic, my time had disappeared.
After I left the Dealers Room, I wandered down to Hall 2 to have a look at some of the exhibits. Naturally, the first things to catch my eye were the Doctor Who props that MacMillan Cancer Relief had on display. I donated £5 to the charity, and had my photo taken with a cyberman in front of the TARDIS Console.
Hitch Hiker’s Guide
I had a window of opportunity of just over an hour and a half to get ready for the panel that I was on at 5pm. I rushed back to the hotel, had a shower and a shave, put on the Douglas Adams Memorial t-shirt, and put ready my towel. I then headed down to the branch of the Body Shop on Central Station to replenish my stock of shaving lotions and balms before heading back to the SECC. In the rush I managed to forget my towel, some galactic hitchhiker I would be.I arrived at the Green Room in plenty of time, and had a glass of orange juice. A few minutes later Mike Cule turned up, he is an Honorary Member of ZZ9, having appeared in both stage and TV productions and then Robert Newman, arrived and asked “What are you doing here?”
“I’m on the Hitch Hiker’s panel with you.” I said
“Where’s Mike Cule, I told them to have him instead of you.” He retorted
“Mike is over there. He’s on the panel as well.” I stated and I walked off to have a chat with Flick, who was moderating the panel.
Over my dead body was I being dropped from this panel. That poisonous 狒狒的屁眼1 could go take a long walk off a short pier.
The room the panel was being held in was full with standing room only. Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy must be popular. I enjoyed myself immensely, and was able to add useful contributions to the discussion.
And so my official contribution to Interaction, the 63rd World Science Fiction Convention was complete.
You Got to Fight for You Right to ZOMBIE!
As soon as the panel finished, there was no hanging around, I had to get to the Loch Lomond Auditorium to watch Father’s Day and the Question and Answer session with its writer, Paul Cornell. The corridor seemed to be full of people who were not going anywhere. “Come on”, I said to no one in particular, “Doctor Who is on in five minutes, and I want to watch it”. Exactly said the woman standing in front of me, and began barging her way through the crowd, I followed in her wake, and got to see one of the best episodes of Doctor Who in twenty years, on a big screen. The programme item was introduced by Gary Russell, with the the comment to the Americans in the audience that this was probably the first time any of them had seen this episode, well in good quality at least. He then called Paul Cornell onto the stage, who explained that the nature of Pete Tyler was based on his memories of his father, who started a number of businesses before eventually becoming a successful Insurance Broker, and then the episode started. Once again, the emotional content of the story reduced me do a blubbering pile of jelly, and boy was I glad they took their time to put the house lights back on. In the question and answer session that followed, I asked Mr. Cornell, to get it strait from the horses mouth, if he would settle the argument on how much of the events in the story Rose remembered. He didn’t give a straight answer, he said “Russell had answered that later in the series”, which I took to mean that yes, she remembered everything.
By the time the question and answer session had finished, it was time for me to take my seat in the Armadillo for the Worldcon Masquerade. This was the main event of the evening, and the Clyde Auditorium was packed to the rafters. The first part of the competition was for the children, the second part was for adults.
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My favourite entry was entitled The Stature of Fairies, in which the cute children walked on stage dressed as flower fairies, small because not many people believe in them. This was followed by a woman dressed as the Tooth Fairy, who leaves physical evidence of her existence, so she is larger. However, the largest fairy was a strapping six foot tall man, in a dress covered in dirty clothes, he was the Laundry Fairy, who is believed in by all men.
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The YAFA entry consisted of a dozen children and half a dozen adults dressed as zombies, being herded by James Bacon with a cricket bat, based on the film Shaun of the Dead.
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The funniest entry was the First Day of the New Novel, which featured a man dressed as Terry Pratchett sitting at a table with a notebook, and over the P.A., a radio commentary in the style of the BBC’s cricket coverage. This apparently amused Mr. Pratchett greatly
It probably seemed like a good idea at the time, but real time costume making in Ready, Steady, Sew just did not work. The Masquerade began haemorrhaging its audience, as people decided they had better things to do than wait for the prizes to be given out, and anyway, the results would appear in The Port Authority the following morning.
I left the Armadillo and waited for the shuttle bus to take me to the Hilton. As the bus arrived, James Bacon and the rest of the Adult Zombies joined the queue. The bus was an open-top double-decker, and naturally, the zombies decided to go onto the top storey for the journey to the Hilton. I can only imagine what the reaction of the Glaswegians we passed on the journey must have been. Once the bus arrived at the Hilton, the zombies broke into the chorus of “You gotta fight for your right, to ZOMBIE!”, and were singing this as they walked into the hotel, and to the nearest party.
I decided to have a wander around the City Centre, to find something to eat. Unfortunately, it was getting late and restaurants were not taking new customers, so I ended up getting a sausage supper from the Blue Lagoon and then grabbing a taxi back to the Hilton.
Tonight “Chicago in 2008″ was holding its bid party. People attending this party were being given comedy names as they walked through the door, in addition to hotdog shaped stickers for badges. For instance, I was Down Down Deeper and Down whilst Sharon was 30,000 Degrees Kelvin. They were giving away real hotdogs, as Chicago is where they originated. Personally, I would have preferred a slice of Chicago style deep-pan pizza. Chicago in 2008 wasusing the ballroom for their party and once I had queued for my hotdog I got a glass of the very pleasant vodka based punch they were serving.
Across the way, The League of Evil Geniuses threw a party to induct Sir August de Wynter, the villain from The Avengers movie into their hall of fame. Although I had to query why Wile E. Coyote was in the Hall of Fame. I said that the obvious villain in the cartoon series was the Roadrunner. Wile E. Coyote was simply acting out of an instinct to survive, the evil bird was just being nasty. The League pointed out that Coyote did carry a calling card that introduced him as Wile E. Coyote, Evil Genius. Pepper wanted to know what Acme was, and why would it extend an unlimited credit line to a wild dog. Someone else noted, that in one version of one of the cartoons, right at the end, it focuses in on the Acme sign, and the small print reveals that Acme Inc. was a subsidiary of Roadrunner Enterprises. This just proves my point; the bird is the evil genius, not the coyote.
It was towards the end of the evening, that Jonjo said that he had booked one of the smaller rooms on the fourth floor for a Welsh Science Fiction Association party on Sunday Night.
And another day at the Worldcon drew to a close.
1狒狒的屁眼
Fei-Fei de Pi Yen
FAY-FAY duh PEE-yen
baboon’s arsehole
Sunday, 7th August, 2005
Dalek Curry in the Land of the Rising Sun
By Sunday afternoon I eventually got around to visiting the Nippon 2007 table in Hall 2 and actually joined the Japanese Worldcon. Andy Adams checked my status, pre-supporting non-voter, and asked for the princely sum of ¥11,000, which sounds impressive, but actually works out to £55. This guaranteed that I will be spending the August of 2007 in the Land of the Rising Sun.
The main event of Sunday for me was the screening of Dalek with a question and answer session with writer Rob Shearman. Whereas all the previous Doctor Who items had been held in the Loch Lomond auditorium, wisely Dalek was moved to Hall 3, where big events like the Opening and Closing ceremonies were held. Not surprisingly this event was packed out. The infamous “broken, broken, hairdryer, broken” joke got a huge laugh, and the episode proved to be very popular with the Americans who were seeing it for the first time.
After the screening of Dalek I went back to my hotel room to prepare for the evening. First stop once I was ready was the Blue Bombay Indian restaurant on Hope Street. An all you can eat Indian buffet was like a moth to a flame. In the restaurant, I don’t think there was a single table occupied by someone who was not at the convention. I really enjoyed my meal, eating more curry than was possibly good for me, and finishing it of with a large syrupy bowl of gulab.
The Welsh Science Fiction Association Party
Ten years ago, I went to the Hugo Ceremony, and I enjoyed it. This year I was not fussed about going to watch the Science Fiction equivalent of the Oscars being handed out. So I made my way to the Hilton for 7pm to help set up the party in the Cardhu Room (42) where the WelshSFA party was to be held. No-one else was there, but the door was wide open, revealing piles of booze and nibbles for the evening ahead. I rung Jonjo, and found he was still in the flat having his tea. He was none to pleased that the room was open, and was glad that I was there guarding it. I said not to worry, as it was unlikely that the people running the Christian Fandom party next door would nick anything. Jonjo, Sharon and Pepper arrived bringing with them some signs for the party, and three large flags, two Ddraig Goch of Wales, and a Saint Andrew’s Cross for Scotland. I asked why the Scottish Flag, and Sharon said that it was a mark of respect for our host nation. Fair enough, although I knew that I would be answering that question all evening.
Earlier that afternoon I had put details of the party on the Parties Board, so people would know that it was happening. Sure enough, there was a trickle of people at first, becoming a steady flow, with all who attended having a good time.
I had to explain to the best of my knowledge some Welsh things for a few Americans, like the origin of the name Jones, what laver bread was etc. One chap wanted to know what Wales meant, I explained that it came from the Anglo Saxon word Gwaeles, which means foreigners, which is rich, considering that the Anglo Saxons were the invaders, they were the real foreigners, and I also pointed out that the Welsh name for England, Lloegr literally means Stolen Land
The morning edition of the Port Authority would contain a review of the previous night’s parties. Jonjo knew that the parties were being reviewed by Flick, whose favourite tipple is Gin and Tonic. Every party that gave her a G&T got a positive review, which is why Jonjo had hidden away some Gin, Tonic Water and a slice of lemon, so that as soon as Flick walked through the door, her poison of choice would be waiting. It worked, we got a very good review, only marked down for not having stickers for attendee’s badges, however, as I pointed out, finding Ddraig Goch stickers in Glasgow on a Sunday afternoon was Mission: Impossible. Thanks to Flick I got a nice Party Host ribbon to adorn my convention badge.
The Christians packed up just before midnight, leaving the Welsh as the only party on the Fourth Floor. Things were starting to slow down, so I wandered down to the Irish Fans’ Party on the floor below. This was a private party, only open to the Irish or members of the Robert Rankin fan club Sproutlore. I was asked at the door what the password was, I replied that my great-great grandmother was from County Cork and my ex-brother-in-law was from Omagh, which meant that I had plenty of connections to Ireland, and had every right to be in the Irish Party. So they let me in, and I was greeted with a cry of méarhighidh. Eimer and Dave were at the party, and I managed to persuade them that they should explore the Welsh Party upstairs.
The party seemed to get a new lease of life after 1.30am, but all good things come to end, and at 3.15am, with the room left in a neat and tidy state, we all piled into a cab and headed back to our various accommodations.
Monday, 8th August, 2005
All Good Things…
…Must come to an end. Monday afternoon saw everything winding down. The Dealer’s room closed for the last time, and the official programme drew to its conclusion with the Closing Ceremony. The Guests of Honour were thanked, and presented with a memento of the weekend. The Interaction Committee then declared that the 63rd World Science Fiction Convention was closed, and handed responsibility for the running of the World Science Fiction Society over to the committee of LACon IV, the 64th World Science Fiction Convention, to be held at the Anaheim Convention Centre, Orange County, California.
However, the Closing Ceremony is far from the end of the convention, then comes the process of taking everything down. It was announced that anyone who wished to help should make his or her way to the information desk, to get a security pass. Once I got to the desk, the fat man behind it was turning people away unless they knew exactly what they were doing. This infuriated me greatly, if people want to volunteer you let them and then find jobs for them to do. Eventually, I got a Moving Out badge, and went to the Dealer’s Room, and then to the Art Show, to dismantle the display.
It was like a plague of locusts. Stripping the cloth to reveal the bare scaffolding rods, removing the lighting, taking down the scaffolding and then bundling it up into neat piles. It took an hour and twenty minutes to completely dismantle it. The person who had been running the art show was impressed, he said it had not been done the way he would have done it, but as it was completely dismantled he had no complaints.
Every so often you see a sight that just croggles, and the sight of £500 worth of pizzas from Dominoes is one of them. They were for everyone helping with the teardown, which would take most of that evening and all of Tuesday.
It was at this point that we waved Pepper off, she had a long drive back to Nottingham ahead of her.
It was time for food, so Sharon, Jonjo and I went to the Rotunda restaurant. There was a choice of the a la carte restaurant upstairs, or the Teppanyaki restaurant downstairs. There was no choice really; watching your food being prepared in front of you by a chef who juggles his implements whilst he is cooking was to much of a temptation. At one point during the meal, while the chef was preparing vegetable fried rice, he fried a strip of egg, chopped it into pieces and challenged the diners to catch the pieces in their mouths after he had tossed it to them. I later discovered that the secret is to stay still, as the chef knows exactly how far he has to throw the food, however, at the time I saw the food coming towards me, and instinctively moved forward to try and catch it. Naturally it fell behind me.
Tuesday, 9th August, 2005
Out and About
When I made my travel arrangements, I made sure that I would have a day to see some of Glasgow. To many times, I go to a convention, and only see where the convention is being held, and only see the inside of the hotel or conference centre the event is being held in.
I wanted to do a bus tour of the city, so after I had checked out of my hotel room, and left my suitcase in the luggage store. It was such a glorious day, that I decided to go on an open top double-decker bus tour of the City. The tour was in two parts, the first covered East of Glasgow the oldest part of the city, where the Cathedral is located; the second covered the west of the city.
Having seen some of the sights, I got my case from the hotel. Easier said than done. The receptionists proved once again why they were the winners of the Chocolate Teapot Award 2005. It took them twenty minutes to find someone with a key to unlock the luggage store. It was a good job I was not in a rush for my plane.
The train journey from Glasgow to Prestwick International Airport was uneventful. I left St. Mungo’s Blessed Green Place with a shed load of happy memories.
On arriving at the Airport, I realised I had made a fundamental mistake, and was far too early. The check-in was not due to open for another hour, so I had time to kill. I went and had something to eat, a ludicrously expensive sausage and chips from the self-service restaurant. Oh the fun trying to carry a tray full of food whilst pulling a heavy suitcase. What is worse, the chips were cold and the sausage over-cooked, but at that point I was so hungry I realy did not care. Once again I was the first person to check-in, in fact I was the only person in the queue when the check-in desk opened. I had been terrified that I would have to pay excess baggage charges, the allowance was 20Kg, and my suitcase tipped the scales at 19.8Kg, which is a mystery to me, as the only difference going home to travelling up was three hardback books.
I had considered buying a bottle of Scotch from the shop, but it would only end up gather dust with the other malt whiskeys I own and rarely drink. Nothing else in the shops even remotely appealed to me.
I spotted quite a few faces that had become familiar over the course of the weekend, most noticeably Eimer, who was waiting for her flight to Dublin. We had a laugh at the bar in the departures lounge, which had been dolled up as a faux French café.
The only flight of the evening not operated by Ryan Air, was my flight to Cardiff. So when the lady behind the desk called “Ryan Air flight WN8504″ unfortunately, the PA microphone was still on, so the concourse of the airport rung with “tha’s no right”, as she realised that she had made a mistake and tried again. It was at this point she got an attack of the giggles. On the fourth attempt she simply announced “you know who you are, go catch your plane.”
After that, it was plain sailing, and before I realised it, I had been met at Cardiff Airport by Janet and James, and they dropped me off back home at Gardd Lelog, “Back to Life, Back to Reality, Back to the Here and Now.”
20six Comments
Kevin Standlee (16.9.05 07:27)
Thanks for the report. I’m sorry that “Ready, Steady, Sew!” didn’t work for you, but based on how many people were still in the audience (roughly 2/3 the count of those who were there at the end if the first run-through), it was probably one of the most popular “half-time” shows a Worldcon has ever held. (It may not have been obvious because we did only fill about 50-60% of the Clyde Auditorium capacity, so the building looked a little empty even at peak.) I’m especially pleased that we did the Masquerade, the half-time, and results but still got most people out the door with a few hours to go have some fun at the parties. (Similarly, the Hugo Awards Ceremony was only 96 minutes long — in fact, we finished so early that the buses that had been laid on to carry people down to the party hotels hadn’t started running yet.)
“Captain” Kevin Standlee
WSFS Armadillo
(Events Division Manager) |
(16.9.05 09:54)
It surprises me that the Armadillo was only 50-60% full for the Masquerade, it looked much fuller. |
Robert Newman / Website (16.9.05 14:54)
“Over my dead body was I being dropped from this panel. That poisonous 狒狒的屁眼1 could go take a long walk off a short pier.”
Well, actually I was only joking. I didn’t have any more control over who was on the panel than you did. But if that’s your attitude you’d better stay out of my way in future you tedious fat bald windbag. |
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Kevin Standlee (16.9.05 19:34)
Regarding how many people were in the Armadillo: Have a look at http://www.secc.co.uk/planning/plans/clyde/ (the Clyde floorplans). The Clyde Auditorium seats 3,000, and consists of four decks: Stalls (ground floor), Front Circle (first/second floors) , Rear Circle (third floor), and Gallery (fourth floor). I don’t have seating figures for the four decks, but by eyeball I saw that we filled most of the Stalls and the Front Circle, and got maybe halfway up the Rear Circle. A few people went up to the Gallery but the stewards asked them to move down to the Rear Circle instead — besides, the view angle from the Gallery to the big screens was poor (and we knew it would be). Also, there were plenty of scattered empty seats throughout the Front Circle; if for some reason we had had to do so, we could have got by with only seats in Front Circle and Stalls — but people wanted to spread out and be comfortable, and there was room to do so.So we figured that about 60% of the seats are in Front Circle and Stalls, and the rest in Rear Circle and Gallery. Perhaps at peak we had as many as 2/3 of the seats filled, and around the end of Ready, Steady, Sew! we had about 50% filled. That’s still a higher retension rate that most Masquerades.Another good thing about being completely done as early as we were was that people could still use the trains to get down to Anderston and the parties. Although I took a taxi later myself, I saw photos of the absolutely packed platforms at Exhibition Centre, and I expect it was a somewhat surreal experience for the relatively few people on the late-night service to have all of those people swarming aboard just to go one stop.
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Kevin Standlee (16.9.05 19:46)
By the way, I forgot to mention how much I appreciate that you “got” the convention theme. I got the impression that a lot of our members didn’t even notice it. We in events did our best to push it to people, but there are a lot of attendees who never go to any of the big events. We even had difficulty giving away all of our copies of Ion Trails the “in-flight magazine” of the White Star Federated Spacelines. We gave it out at Opening Ceremonies, announced in the newsletter that additional copies were available at the Events Desk next to the Costume Exhibit, and had copies at our other major events, but we still had several boxes of the 2000 we’d printed left over.One thing that we noticed at the Events Desk was that, despiting having signs that said FREE in big letters, people kept expecting us to charge them for it, which was why they were reluctant to take copies. They had a hard time believing that the publication was included in their membership. I hope people did eventually read Ion Trails, which IMO has a lot of good material in it. I’m very grateful to the many authors and artists who contributed material, and to the editorial team (Cheryl Morgan, Guy & Rosy Lillian) who put it together. I’m biased, but when someone asked me if I thought it would be eligible for Best Related Book next year, I said I thought so.Your party sounds like it was fun; on the other hand, you missed a good Hugo Awards Ceremony, including the hilarious speech by Paul McAuley and Kim Newman introducing the “Prix Hugo pour achèvement plus-plus-grande dans le champ de Fiction-Scientifique et Fantastique” named of course for the father of moders Fiction-Scientifique, Victor Hugo.
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(16.9.05 21:31)
Robert, at the time I thought you were being serious, and apart from the bit of Mandarin added for flourish, this report is a write-up of the notes I was making at the time on my PDA.
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