DetCon1 
I've spoken to several people about DetCon1, this year's North American Science Fiction Convention (NASFiC), and how my time was spent. As I'm starting to repeat myself and am losing track of who I've talked to about it, it's time to write things down so I can point people at it later.

When Detroit won the bid to host this year's NASFiC, I knew several people on the convention committee. I approached Dave, the one with whom I've spent many hours volunteering at other conventions and who I knew was on the committee, and asked, "So ... what is it you're actually doing at the con?"

"I'm heading Ops." Cool. Dave's got a good head for operations.

"What am I doing?"

"You're in Ops."

We hadn't discussed this before. I'd just assumed I'd be volunteering for something and I was fine with working in operations. Making sure things needed in one presentation were moved from the presentation that had finished with them, handling minor security issues, acting as an information desk -- ops covers a variety of tasks.

Dave and I have known each other for ages. It's no surprise that I didn't hear anything from him as the weekend of the convention drew near. I show up ready for just about anything and expect I'll get my assignments when I get there. He knows that -- he's the same way.

I was, however, a little surprised when I arrived late Thursday evening, reported to Ops and was told by the person manning the desk, "Huh ... I don't see you on the schedule anywhere."

No problem. I'm exhausted and don't want to start a shift until I've had a good night's sleep. I figured I'd talk to Dave in the morning.

Sure enough, when I returned to Ops, rested and ready to go, Dave was there, dispatching a runner to proclaim our victory to the people of Athens . . . or something along those lines.

"So ... I don't seem to be on the schedule."

"No, your not."

"Which means I'm ... ?"

"On call."

"Ah!"

"I know how to reach you and I'm holding you in reserve."

This is not a problem. I'll plan my weekend as if I'm not volunteering for anything, but with the knowledge that I may be interrupted at any time and have to excuse myself.

I saw Dave several times during the course of the weekend. Never more than a wave, a smile, and a "Things are going awesome!" from him as we passed each other. Finally, I found a moment on Sunday afternoon when neither of us were rushing to be somewhere else and had a word with him.

"You haven't called me all weekend." Not a complain, mind you, but an observation. Dave understood this.

"Yeah ... I got called only once. I fumbled my phone and didn't answer it, so I took it into the bathroom where I wouldn't wake my wife while talking and called back. They said, 'Never mind -- we took care of it.' It's been that kind of weekend."

DetCon1 is now my Gold Standard for well-run conventions. The parties were loud but well-behaved. Presenters got the audio-visual equipment they needed. People were polite and helpful to each other. The convention chair, Tammy, organizes well. The people under her (Dave and others) organize well. It was a joy to watch this event unfold.

Detroit hasn't host a science fiction convention of this magnitude in 55 years. I hope it's not too long before we doing again -- Detroit is just too good at this to let the talent sit idle.

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A Weekend Outing 
The vehicle that shooting past you on the left? Not me. You'll find my car over in the right lane; it's the you pass because it's going a steady 60 miles-per-hour. You won't find me on the ski slopes, but on the crosscountry ski trails. Other people might enjoy running, but walking is more my speed.

When all is said and done, it takes me longer to get there, but tend to enjoy the scenery more. This doesn't mean my way is better -- it merely means my priorities are different. Labor Day weekend was a chance to indulge my priorities.

Friday - M came over to the house to pick me up. We both took the day off in order to get to Cheboygan State Park and set up camp before it got dark. I offered to drive, since M's car has a manual transmission and I miss having one. We started an audio book and hit the road.

Traffic was less annoying than expected and we reached Bay City in short order. Rather than continue north on I-75, I switched to westbound M-10, heading toward Midland. This route takes a little longer, but there's far less traffic. We exited the freeway at Coleman Road and headed north, through Amish country, to my hometown. A slower route, but relaxing and there's plenty to see.

Another benefit to taking the day off is that it allowed to for a visit with my parents on the way up. After an hour of pleasant conversation and coffee, we promised to stop in on the trip back and it was back on the road and up to Cheboygan.

I'm pleased to say we made it to the camp site before sundown. About 8 minutes before sundown. And the campground has many, many trees. It wasn't exactly dark as we set up camp, but we did resort to flashlights a few times. Still, it was better than working in the dark and we soon had shelter (complete with sleeping accomodations, doormat, and various supplies) set up for the weekend.

Since M and I are addicted to knowing what's happening on the networks at home and at the office, we grabbed our computers and struck off in search of wireless access. Being in a rural community, the free wifi locations aren't as easy to find as they are in the city. No matter -- I'll take the minor inconvenience if it means fresh air for the weekend.

We'd had a late lunch and neither of us were hungry, but there is a bar in Cheboygan that I've been curious about (Mulligans -- "Good Food, Bad Shots") and it was free wifi. We got a table near an outlet, ordered drinks and a sandwich to split, and caught up on the virtual world. The reuben was good, the sweet potato fries were good, the iced tea was cold and wet, and there was nothing wrong with any of the networks I maintain. (I'm not sure what all M checked up on, but since there were no shrieks, I concluded all was well.)

Finally, we headed back to the tent and burrowed into our sleeping bags. My phone allowed me to check my favorite weather site for the current forecast -- lows in the low 60s and a good chance of rain. With the tent above us and warm sleeping bags around us, we turned off the light, confident in prospect of a good night's rest.

Saturday - It did rain. It rained and rained and rained. I'm told that glaciers typically move about 6 inches an hour. Likewise, the storm that was passing overhead. No breeze shook the tent and when I chanced a look outside, the rain was coming straight down. And quickly. And voluminously.

Also, insistently. The rain had found ways to saturate some of the tent's seams and was seeping its way inside. Several puddles had formed on the floor of the tent. Parts of our sleeping bags were wet. Not soaked, just damp, but it meant there was water dripping from points all over the tent. We weren't happy, but we were still dry and warm (air mattresses are wonderful things) and figured we'd deal with it in the morning, when it was light.

M's camping supplies includes a small bucket to be used as a trash receptacle. This morning we used that small bucket as ... well ... a small bucket. Using a washcloth as a mop and wringing it out frequently rendered the floor of the tent mostly dry. Having done as much as we could with water removal, we spread out the sleeping bags (and the washcloth) to dry and left camp to get breakfast.

We had breakfast at the Step Inn restaurant -- a small, family restaurant with amazingly good biscuits and gravy. (M ordered that. I ordered something else. My meal was good, but not amazing.) We lounged around the place for coffee and conversation; listening to a recorded book on the trip up had kept the talk to a minimum and we were making up for that.

Eventually, as often happens with vacationing computer jockeys, we set forth in search of Internet access. This time we opted for my current reliable fall-back provider, McDonald's. I've found that the nice folks with the addictive french fries are kind enough to offer free wifi at almost all of their locations. M and I visited the nearest location, bought some drinks and computed for a while.

While there, C (M's spouse) called with an update on his travel plans. Rather than become moving targets, we decided to stick around, have a light lunch, and catch up on our social networking. Upon C's arrival, we packed up our network operations center and headed back to camp.

We noted that the damp spots on the air mattress had dried off and the ad hoc mop was nearly dry. After shuffling a few things around inside the tent, C was settled in and it was time to think about what we were going to do about the evening meal. We discussed the matter while lounging around the campsite, eventually mentioning that we'd liked our sandwich at Mulligan's the previous day. That was enough for C to decide he'd like to check them out.

Mulligan's had three specials listed. There were three of us. It seemed like a simple decision, but we looked over the entire menu anyway. C ordered the salmon, M ordered the ravioli, and I was left with the prime rib. We ordered soft drinks all around, but I noticed a suspicious tap handle over at the bar. The waiter confirmed it was Guinness, so a pint of stout was obtained and shared around the table.

The prime rib was good. Not outstanding, but I'd order it again. The stout tasted wonderful. The conversation was pleasant and, since C had been driving for most of the day, he wanted to go on-line while we were there. No problem -- soon all three of us were chatting, hacking, and snacking.

We eventually paid our tab and headed back to camp. C, having a car full of radio equipment, engaged in one of his favorite hobbies -- chatting with other radio operators around the globe. M and I spent some quality time with a cribbage board and, towards the end, explained the rules to C. We'll have to play some three-handed games in the near future.

As much-too-late registered on the clocks, we decided to turn in. Another night of lows in the mid-60s found me sleeping on top of my sleeping bag.

Sunday - Around 4 a.m., I'd had enough of my bag-top sleeping arrangement and decided to crawl inside. It was sprinkling outside, so I felt round the tent, reaching out to any of the former puddles that were near me. All dry. With a content sigh, I zipped up the bag and went back to sleep.

We woke late, 10 a.m. or so, and started to discuss breakfast possibilities. Seeing as M and I enjoyed our breakfast the previous day at Step Inn and C hadn't had the pleasure, we that seemed the obvious choice. I generally avoid repeating restaurants when I'm on a three-day vacation, but I wanted the biscuits and gravy.

The remaining member of our camping group, B, called to say he'd be arriving in about two hours. This would be right around the time the rest of us would be finishing breakfast, so we figured we might hang around downtown Cheboygan and maybe check out the coffee shop we'd spotted the day before.

Step Inn was busy and our breakfast took longer than the day before. Even so, we were out and about by the time B called to ascertain our current location. After a few minutes of I-am-here-where-are-you, we all ended up on the sidewalk outside the State Street Coffee Company. problem -- we had little planned for the day and the coffee was good. Since B had breakfast just before getting to town and the rest of us were floating on a sea of Step Inn coffee, we figured we'd head to camp and get B settled in.

Once camp was fully set up, we relaxed a bit and talked about dinner plans. By now, it should be apparent that we do quite a bit of this. We're on vacation -- meals are part of the relaxation process. For the next meal, we were looking at adding two more to our party -- my brother-in-law and a friend of his who would be just finishing up their participation in the annual DALMAC bicycle tour.

Each year after the DALMAC ride, my brother-in-law, his friend, and I try to have dinner at Darrow's in Mackinaw City. I talk the place up regularly and my campmates were more than willing to give the place a try. The campers arrived a little early and held a place in line. On any given weekend, there's a line for dinner at Darrow's; on Labor Day weekend, the lines start early. The cyclists showed up after about 20 minutes had passed and we were all seated shortly thereafter.

The food was wonderful. (Try the whitefish, if it's your first visit.) By the end of the meal we were all stuffed and regretting that we couldn't possibly have a piece of their marvelous pie.

"I'll have a slice to go," piped up one voice.

Five other diners suddenly perked up. In the end, we all got pie to go. My brother-in-law got two slices, for which I am thankful. Not only would he not be in trouble for showing up at home without a piece of Darrow's pie for his wife, but I wouldn't get in trouble with my sister for allowing him to leave the building without the aforementioned pie.

The campers and the cyclists bid each other farewell. The cyclists hit the road south and the campers headed to Cheboygan. For the third evening in a row, we made use us Mulligan's free wifi. This time, we settled down with our computers and a few pints of beer. I'd been keeping an eye on the weather forecast all weekend, watching the chance of rain for Monday morning bounce back and forth between 30 and 50 percent. This evening's forecast called for a slight chance of rain overnight and none for the morning. This news was greeted with great approval by all at our table. With a promising forecast ahead of us, we headed back to camp.

We wanted to make an early evening of it -- we were planning to get up at 5 a.m. to get an early start on the walk. Showers were taken and tents aired out a bit. Just as darkness was settling in, B fired up a piece of camping gear that we all admired -- his portable espresso kit. As we all ate at the picnic table, enjoying some late-night espresso and pie, it started to sprinkle. We finished up and turned in for night.

Monday -- Labor Day - After a day filled with coffee and beer, it's not surprising to find oneself awake at 3:15 a.m. Reluctantly, I ducked out of the tent for a few minutes. It was a brisk 45 degrees outside, but the rain had stopped and the sky was gorgeous. Being still rather tired and not dressed adequately for the cold, I went back to bed.

The problem with this brief interlude is that it involved climbing off, and back on to, the air mattress I was sharing with C and M. Since we were all awake, M decided to follow my example. As did C. By the end of all of this, it was a few minutes before 4 a.m. We all agreed that we could still get a bit of a nap in before our various alarms went off in an hour.

That's when people started stirring at the camp site next to ours. If we'd all been asleep, I suspect we'd have never heard them. Try as they might to be quiet, we laid awake and listened to them nonetheless. At around 4:15, they got in their car and drove off, headlights playing briefly across out tent. We all knew where they were heading. We are not the only ones who like to get an early start on Labor Day.

We came to the conclusion that none of us were going to get any sleep in the next 45 minutes. If B was ready to join us, we were head to wake and head out for the day. I called out and got no answer. No problem -- I called his phone and we listened to the ringing from the tent next to ours. B answered the phone, agreed with out change of plans, and suggested that communicating between adjacent tents was just plain silly.

We dressed quickly and headed into Mackinaw City. As we were ahead of schedule and there was a coffee shop between where we parked and the shuttle buses, B and I decided that coffee was in order. And a donut -- we had a long walk ahead of us.

There was no delay to speak of getting to the buses and we were across the bridge before the northbound lanes had closed. This put us at the starting point an hour before the walk was due to start. We jointed the press at the gate, watched the beach balls being bounced around the crowd, and did our best to ignore the inane chatter of the DJ.

Somewhere around 7 a.m. the DJ lead the crowd in a countdown, the gate was opened and we started our southbound walk. It was, perhaps, the windiest bridge walk I've been on. About half-way through, the bridge swayed more than I've ever experienced; it was like walking on a gently rolling boat. By the end of the walk, it was only 9 a.m. and we had the rest of the day ahead of us.

We drove back to the campground to break camp. Considering how long it took to set everything up, it all came down and was stored in our cars surprisingly quickly. By 10:45, we were ready to head to breakfast. On our way out of the campground, I stopped to talk to one of the rangers.

"Do you know when the bridge walk in Cheboygan happens?"

"The State Street one?"

"Yes, I think so."

"One moment -- I'll ask." She stepped inside for a moment and returned. "11 o'clock."

I checked my watch. It was 10:48 and it was ten minutes into town. We decided to walk the other bridge before taking breakfast.

Arriving at the State Street Bridge, we were surprised to see there were so many parking spaces. Also, only about 7-8 people lined up by the bridge. We parked and went to join them. Nobody was sure when the walk started. Some of them thought 11:00, others said 11:45. I had an idea -- the State Street Coffee Company was just on the other side of the bridge so I proposed checking there. Surely, I reasoned, they'd know the correct time.

I walked across the bridge by myself and asked. 11:45. Definitely, 11:45. So I walked back across the bridge and shared the news with the rest of the crowd. We had 40 minutes left before the official State Street Bridge Walk would start.

What could we do to kill the time? Well ... there was a coffee shop on the other side. So our camping party trekked across the State Street Bridge to get coffee. And back again.

After a few minutes, we all (at least several hundred -- I was number 306, according to the lady with the clicker) walked the official "other labor day bridge walk." We were told that if we turned left and walked a couple blocks there was a gathering in the park with free coffee and hot dogs. We declined to go, as we had other breakfast plans.

Thus came my seventh bridge walk of the day -- the sixth for this one bridge. Once on the other side, we stopped to watch a car ferry we'd spotted in the river. We guessed correctly that the bridge would close momentarily and be raised so the ferry could pass. After watching the drawbridge in action, we finally drove off to our breakfast destination.

I discovered Alice's Restaurant the first year I stayed at the Cheboygan State Park Campground. They serve an excellent eggs benedict and I wanted my campmates to have the opportunity to try it.

After a delicious meal, we hit the road for home with one short detour. We all stopped in to visit my parents for some conversation and coffee. (Yes, more coffee.)

The rest of the trip was much like the last leg of most trips. Lots of driving, a few stops for fuel, meals, beverages, and so on. In the end, it was late when I got home and time to turn in. It had been a long day and I was glad for a soft bed at the end of it.

When I woke up, it would be time to return to my usual routine. Also, to look forward to next year.


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Up too late again 
I've been revamping my website.

For a long time, I thought it would be good to have my own blog, rather than relying on popular social media sites. The advantage, of course, is that I have near-total control over the content. The disadvantage, however, is that no one may read it.

It's a risk I'm willing to take.

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