As many of you may know, Marcon was last weekend [May 7 - 9]. Wow. What an experience. Here's a quick run-down of what I did at Marcon: I shook hands with Dr. Demento, danced the Macarena with Steve Jackson, and was ignored by Tom Savini. David Drake, grand master of military science fiction, personally played with my Transformers. I acquired a beautiful silver icedrake named Lorelei. God Herself introduced me to the wonders of the Flaming Dragon (Rule Number One: Blow out the flame BEFORE you drink). I headbanged to Weird Al songs and did the Y.O.D.A. I basked in the glory of Caffeine, the One True Stimulant of which all others are but shadows. I danced in the Scorpion's Den, a joint Scottish/Klingon party bash. I received the divine blessing of J.R. "Bob" Dobbs, Space Prophet and Short-Duration Personal Saviour of the Church of the SubGenius. I frightened mundanes and played ambassador to normals (there is a difference). I sang filthy Scottish drinking songs in the consuite. I blew $250 cash on books, art, robots, and dice, and every penny was well spent. I rejoined old friends and met new ones. I had the time of my life.
And it's a four-day con next year...
![]() |
![]() |