Dragon*Con 2009 - Saturday

Arrived late to the parade, and ended up catching the last ten minutes of it.

Attended the "From MST3K to Cinematic Titanic" panel with Jonathan. Immediately after, ran over to the Marriott in an attempt to save time so I could pee before the trial of standing in line for Charlaine Harris to autograph my book.

Line to restroom was long, decided to go further and investigate how long the Harris line was at that point. I reach a line, on the opposite side of the building from where her session was to take place. I fear the worse.

I tap the shoulder of the last person in line.

"Excuse me, what is this line for?"

I pray. "Please be for Terry Gilliam."

My prays remain unheard as she says, "Charlaine Harris".

I look at my watch. It is 3:10 in the afternoon. I have over two hours of standing ahead of me.

Waiting in line is a time honoured Dragon*Con tradition. You become best friends forever with the people before or behind you. You people watch, calling out to the cosplayers to come closer so you may photograph them without losing your precious spot in line.

Finally, 5:30 arrives. And our line begins to move.

Before we were warned not to sit while waiting in line, to avoid a fire hazard.

Now that the autograph session has begun, we are crammed into an area 20' x 15' and told to follow the taped maze line like so many cows through a slaughterhouse.

I catch a glimpse of Ms. Harris as the handler tells us we are allowed two autographs and one photograph.

She is no longer the plump young Arkansas housewife her author photo boasts in her books. She looks older, like the mother of the author in her pictures. She has also lost much weight. Still, she smiles and is genuinely happy to meet each and every fan.


Finally, I meet her. I thank her for writing the series and accidentally slip into a North Georgian accent.

We pose for a photo and I continue to thank her. She thanks me for reading her books. She is just as sweet as you would hope she would be. Fame has not gone to her head. She is still in the phase of complete dazzle at how popular her little stories are.

I retrieve my book, my camera, and hurry down the stage. I look to my right and serendipity hits.

I see Diana Gabaldon, author of the Outlander series of novels. I am currently carrying her first novel in my bag as a "waiting in line" read.

Her line looks long. I feel daring, the confidence that infects all Dragon*Con geeks for five days. Fuck it, I will try.

I run out and am faced with another serpentine line. I pray to the Dragon*Con dragon, please, let this be the line for Terry Gilliam.

"What is this line for?"

I continue to pray.

The group announces in unison.

"Terry Gilliam."

My prays answered I run in and out of doors, trying to find the one that leads to Diana Gabaldon. Finally I am rewarded, with room and a short line.

She signs my book. I thank her for writing the series. Our picture is taken.

Diana Gabaldon is too hot to be a writer. I can say this, because I am one. We are not suppose to be this level of beautiful that she is at. She has a beauty and a charisma that makes straight women leave their husbands and lesbians thankful for their good luck.

I want to have her babies.


After the autographs, I head back up to the hotel room. I have needed to pee for the past 4 hours.


Saturday night is a grand time during Dragon*Con. The costumes are fantastic. The booze flows like a river. Everybody is everybody's friend.

We hit the Rainbow Trak Trek Trak party. We people watch at the Marriott. We watch the nightly midnight blowing of the kilts. Pictures to follow.


At this point, today, Sunday afternoon, I write this post operating on a little over three hours sleep.

Apologies in advance for the decline in making words goods of future posts.


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Sunday Plans


*Skeptic's Panel with Adam Savage

*Dr. Sketchy's Anti Art School

* The 2nd Annual Mad Scientists' Ball and Global Domination Strategy Session