In brief, it was a good con; I didn't have a terribly good weekend, but it's not the con's fault.
With my usual aplomb, I spent Thursday night staring at white space in my word processor trying to write something until fairly late, went to bed without packing, slept badly, got up feeling less than wonderful, packed up, and got going almost on time. I found the hotel without incident, and the nice people at the front desk gave me a room on the first floor. When I got to said room, I realized that it was probably in the party area, but since I meant to be up late enough filking for the parties to die down, I figured that would be OK. I got my badge and started wandering around, where I quickly learned about one of the best things about the con: the hotel is pet-friendly to the extent of allowing dogs in the function space, and there were several puppies to pet throughout the weekend. I was in the con suite when they brought in 50 burritos plus some fixin's donated by Chipotle, so I scored a free dinner. filkertom kicked the con off with a half hour mini-concert, a fine start. Unfortunately, this was followed by opening ceremonies which were dominated by the Two-Headed Toastmaster -- two guys doing a schtick of being conjoined twins, telling a lot of jokes that were tasteless, unfunny, and came close to offending me, and I don't usually find myself in the humor police camp. I was feeling enormously tired and starting to think I was getting sick. I stuck around for the beginning of the play, but after the first three scenes failed to convince me that I wanted to watch the play, I went to my room for a while before heading to the filk. bedlamhouse, ladyat, tollers, Juanita, C. S. Marks, and I had a pretty good circle for a while, but it broke up pretty early. I had recovered somewhat from my awful tired, but I still figured I needed to rest. I didn't feel sick in the morning, but I still didn't have a lot of energy. I got down to the Wild Mercy set, which came off well, drifted a bit, and went to harperjen's panel which the program said was about ethics in SF. It turned out to be about ethics, religion, faith, and such in SF/fantasy, which wasn't quite the discussion I expected. It was a pretty good discussion, still, but the conversation jumped quickly through a lot of topics and never stayed in one place long enough for me to put together something to say and say it. We continued the discussion in the hall after the panel, and I managed to say a couple of things, and then ended up tagging along for dinner in the hotel restaurant, which featured hotel restaurant prices. The food was good, though they seemed to have some supply issues. (They were out of some things, despite it being early in the evening and the crowd being quite small.) Unexpectedly, Bob, whose last name evades me, picked up the tab. I found myself in need of some more down time, so I took a brief nap, and then went to filkertom's full hour concert set. Marc Gunn had a set, unfortunately scheduled for 10:30. I listened to a few of his songs and then wandered to the filk. All of Wild Mercy was there, plus Dave that I had met at Sutton's housefilk, who needs to do more stuff, and all the people from Friday night except for C. S. Marks, who had ailing relative obligations. The circle was going great guns for an hour and a half or so, and then everybody started turning into pumpkins at about 1. Juanita and I bravely soldiered on until almost 2, but without Barry and Sally and the Suttons, we didn't have critical mass. When everyone else had left, I put my guitar away and checked out the parties. The parties were winding down too, but I stopped in at Xerps for a bit. I talked to someone I should have recognized, Kirk Webb's ex-wife, and when she mentioned Eric in the past tense and I said that I had heard last year that he was gravely ill but I hadn't heard that he'd died, she took me to the next party over, and I talked with Kirk for half an hour about Eric. I didn't know Eric well, but I do have a number of memories of him from way back when I first got into fandom. He'd dropped out of filking years ago after his voice stopped working reliably, and then cancer got him; he was only 61. It left me feeling pretty low, but not really ready to sleep. I read in my room for a couple of hours until I could sleep. I got up and got out of the room by noon, and wandered around chatting to folks. A good conversation with min0taur, and a little with filkertom and tollers, and I came home as the con was starting to pack up.