...
The marching band turned out to be a very neutral sort of beeping sound, and so did the army of gymnasts. Really inoffensive wake-up calls around these parts. Luckily, I'd thought to lay out everything I was planning to wear today before I got in bed last night or I'd be a crumpled heap in the closet. Probably snoring.
As it is, I dressed without too many mishaps. And the "coffee maker" gig is almost a rote behavior now and no coffee disasters yet, but I did light a cigarette before I realized where I was and had to drown it quick before a SWAT team was called.
I'm out there in the drive, bumping into cars, in all black, with lavender high tops, puffing. Here comes Joseph Farrell, in all black, head to toe, plus briefcase. He looks like a Texas oil mogul and is pointing to a South Dakota license plate, pleased someone from civilization has arrived.
I mumbled something about him having not yet seen the civilized sectors of California. I thought I heard a note of deep skepticism as he was entering the lobby, no doubt to explain the Nazi Bell to the desk clerk, or recite the differences between Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox, or just get someone to fix his space age desk lamp.
Anyway, it's not yet eight, our ride to the conference center isn't here yet and we are the very portraits of seriousness-chic. Not counting my sneakers.
Updating through the day, if the laptop holds.
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I just got to kiss Daniel Sbeehan on the cheek. My word and stars! I love that man!
We are all here in an extremely atmospheric auditorium. I think someone's having candlelit breakfast in the back. This is going to be way fun just as soon as we get the Network "Mad as hell and not going to take it anymore" clip to stop sounding as though it's being transmitted from Mars.
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McCandlish just made it clear to me how the mercury in the Nazi Bell counter-rotating drums getup would actually work. This makes it yet more plausible… when I consult my inner skeptic who has to play like she doesn't believe in it. Not omitting of course to mention that this makes a nuke look like firecracker. I have discovered that this particular witticism has been in regular use now for at least thirty years.
Time enough of us were serious about this that we can upgrade our wisecracks.
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Okay. Just shoveled in a pile of lunch that I hope is going to perk me up. Silly me. I thought there was going to be COFFEE! Oh, surely if yer dragging me outta bed this early you are going to have coffee at the conference. Surely that. Nope. Rumors of it arriving at some point, but nope.
And we're all outta time before we gotta go back in. I just need to tell you that I didn't yell to Schratt or McCandlish about the disappearing jets. I'm being ladylike. Heh.
...
Got a jot of coffee, just enough to make my blood vessels feel hopeful, and then back into the now stuffy and warm auditorium to hear Dr. Farrell's talk. He laid 'em in the aisles… or… like me, the stuffiness was killing 'em. But, no. Really. It was spectacular stuff and delivered elegantly. I did manage to keep upright for the whole thing, but had to bolt while they were setting up for Morningstar, who is threatening to show us irrefutable proof of structures on the moon.
Once I had some air and a cigarette I felt able to go back in and face it. But it is a long slog of technical difficulties, and of course, he's got it plotted to build to a crescendo, and the buildings keep falling down.
So I'm back outside so I don't die of it. I am trying to listen for when the good parts finally arrive.
...
Catherine is off a few yards being videoed by the execrable Cassidy, and she sounds the very incarnation of good humor. Far from being disappointed by her grace in the face of such twaddle-meisters, I am inspired by the level of equanimity employed to help get through to people. I believe she has been placed in my life by the buddhas of the ten directions to help me get over my inability to brook the presence of jackasses. I got that from my father. I come by it honestly. It's not snobbery.
Poor Morningstar has had such a floundering beginning that I think he's lost about fifty of us, but there are still a few hundred more stalwart souls in there taking it in… warts and all. I'm going to try to go back in. Honestly.
But the shade and the breeze and you feel awfully good to me at this point.
always and any time....
