From: "lee gilliland" <leeandalexis at hotmail.com> To: WSFAlist at keithlynch.net Subject: [WSFA] Re: How I Spent my Summer Vaca^W^W Weekend Date: Tue, 05 Mar 2002 07:56:30 -0500 Reply-To: WSFA members <WSFAlist at keithlynch.net> Perhaps instead of going ahead and filling up our little chat circle, Keith, you might want to consider starting a web zine for those who would be interested in reading these essays and life descriptions uninterrupted by other things, as we usually keep the stuff on the circle fairly short. ----Original Message Follows---- From: "Keith F. Lynch" <kfl at keithlynch.net> Reply-To: WSFA members <WSFAlist at keithlynch.net> To: WSFAlist at keithlynch.net Subject: [WSFA] How I Spent my Summer Vaca^W^W Weekend Date: Tue, 5 Mar 2002 02:15:28 -0500 (EST) Monday holds the record for the most messages in a day, with 69 (though one was a duplicate). Plus one failed attempt to post HTML to the list. (Please see http://www.expita.com/nomime.html if you can't figure out how to turn off HTML in your mailer.) The previous record was 44, on Feb 22. Lets see if I can't break the record for *length* of a message. How I Spent my Summer Vaca^W^W Weekend, by Keith Lynch The weekend started with Friday's WSFA meeting. I left my apartment on foot at 5:45, intending to reach the Gillilands' at 8:30. I arrived at 8:27. (I wasn't wearing a watch, but I walk at a consistent pace.) I brought a large bag of pistachios, which a WSFAn mis-identified as a pineapple. Since Lee had insisted, I made sure none were left by the end of the evening. I didn't mind eating a lot, since I knew I might not get a chance to eat again for a while. Lee announced that the promised tickets and posters for the upcoming SF movie had not arrived, but that she'd be holding a theater get-together "here" (clarified to "Skyline") next Saturday anyhow. If you're reading this too late to attend, the name of the movie describes what you'd need to get there on time. I announced that I would host fifth Friday this month. I don't know if very many people will attend, since it conflicts with both Christian and Jewish holidays. Maybe with Pagan and Muslim as well, I don't know. John Pomeranz asked me, when I provide directions, to provide car directions too. I thanked him for reminding me that not only is my apartment Metro accessible, but also fully road accessible as well. I also announced my unusual work situation. My employer is the least Dilbertish place I've ever worked. Unfortunately, it turns out it's too un-Dilbertish. Since there's no marketing department, our list of clients (hospitals) has steadily shrunk since the company was founded. (The boss founded the company by purchasing the software product and client list from his previous employer.) I am the last remaining employee. We still have obligations to the remaining clients, but not enough income to keep an office open, *or* to pay me, much less both. I turned down the boss's offer to sell me the business, since the debts exceeded the assets, and there was little prospect of this situation changing. Instead, I am now working from home, with part of my salary paid as money (more than enough to pay the rent without dipping into savings), and part as computer hardware, including a brace of VAXen, three VT420s (one of which had already been at my home), several modems, routers, hubs, DELNIs, servers, and an Alpha. The VAXen and Alpha are all running VMS and MUMPS. My home remains a Microsoft-free zone. I've networked everything together, and look forward to showing it off during fifth Friday. I also announced the then-upcoming weekend events described in the rest of this message, this email list (for those who didn't hear that announcement at third Friday in February), and the presence of two new attendees, who then introduced themselves. Of the two, 98% (plus or minus 3%) work for the Census Bureau. I asked them whether I would be counted as employed or not. They explained that nobody is unemployed unless they're collecting unemployment. So by that standard, I've never been unemployed in my life. I didn't ask them what level of education I'd be officially listed as having. (When I donate blood, I drive the Red Cross people to distraction when they ask me my education level, and I say, "Well, none of those choices apply. Let me explain..." They usually end up putting down "refused to answer.") Lee clarified that the 50 cent penalty for saying Disclave when you meant Capclave was voluntary. But the highlight of the meeting was Elspeth's announcement about the Disclave^W Capclave hotel situation. Her announcement completely ruined my plans for an April Fool's WSFA Journal article in which Lance signs a ten year contract with a hotel in Gdansk, in which a screwup in exchange rate results in our being obligated to pay, not 600,000 Zlotys per room night (about $30) but 600,000 Euros (about half a million dollars). But perhaps there's still hope for my article, as she pointed out that placing her announcement on our website, or posting it to newsgroups could derail the current not- yet-signed contract. After the meeting, I walked to the Ballston Metro station. Bill Squire walked along with me. He didn't want to go all the way back to Maryland, so once again I offered him crash space in my apartment near the Dunn Loring station. We stayed up talking until about 4:30 am. I also showed him my new computer equipment, but the thing he seemed most impressed by was a web site that gave the weather forecast. I promised to email him its URL (http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/ findweather/getForecast?query=22180). (Replace 22180 with your zip code.) Saturday morning, we both took the Metro to Rosslyn. I wanted to go to the antiquarian book fair, and he wanted to go to the Newseum, which he told me was closing for four years for relocation to DC that weekend. Both were very close to the Rosslyn Metro station. I went to the Newseum with him, mostly to show him where it is, and what some of the highlights are, since I had been there before and he hadn't. We soon managed to lose each other in the very heavy crowds, so I went to the book fair. I had a 150 year old book of my mother's with me which she asked me to get appraised. It turns out that if it had been a first printing of a first edition it would have been worth many thousands of dollars, if the binding had been in good condition, and if it that binding had been the original binding rather than a rebinding from sometime around the 1880s. As it is, it's worth about the same as a new hardback book. The oldest thing I saw for sale was a Bible from the 1500s. The newest (other than books and magazines about collecting old books) was from 2000. Yes, 2000 is apparently already antiquarian by some people's standards. Feeling old yet? The most expensive items were from the 20th century, and were first printings of first editions of first books by authors who later became famous. For instance $75,000 for a book by William Faulkner, not even autographed. I could have gotten a beautiful 400 year old immense full-color world map for less than a quarter of that. Just like last year, I ran into the man who had hired me for my first job. Years ago he got out of the computer business, and started working full time buying and selling antique children's books. This year, unlike last year, he recognized me. That first job had also been in Rosslyn, just two buildings over. I noticed two people were selling old SF books and magazines. And doing so for wildly inflated prices. I told them I knew where they could buy such books and magazines for much less. I got their business cards, and I will be sending them information on a certain local convention. After the event closed for the day, I hung out in the hotel lobby for a while, chatting with others who were there for the fair. We got to talking about SF conventions. One of them mentioned having seen such such a convention in a hotel they happened to be in "about 15 years ago". Further questioning proved to my satisfaction that it was Disclave 1982 they were remembering. I then rode Metro to the far end of the Orange Line, to a station best known among most of us for its proximity to several later Disclaves, including the very last one. I then hung out for a half hour in the adjacent Amtrak station, before starting my 90 minute walk to Chuck Divine's procrastinator's New Year's Eve party in Seabrook. My walk took me right by the notorious convention hotel, which I discovered to my surprise had the exact same name as last year. The weather helped me get into the right frame of mind for reminiscing about the final Disclave, as it was pouring rain. Fortunately, I had seen the forecast online, so I had an umbrella with me, and the two books I was carrying were double bagged. The antique book was triple-bagged. The other book? Stirling's latest, _Peshewar Lancers_, an alternate history set in the 2020s in a world where a comet struck in the 1870s killing most people in the northern hemisphere either through direct effects or through "nuclear winter" and the resulting years of total crop failures. The good guys are the British in India, and the bad guys are the Afghans and some cannibalistic devil-worshipping Russians. I borrowed it from my brother, who had borrowed it from the library. I was about to chide Chuck for not emailing me about last month's party, as a result of which I missed it since I couldn't remember the details from his announcement at a WSFA meeting. But then I remembered that it was a meeting for prospective Mensans, and the fact that I couldn't remember without a written reminder shows that I wouldn't qualify for Mensa. Most of the 20 or so people at Chuck's party were Mensans. The only WSFAns besides Chuck and I were Eric and the Gillilands. At one point we were discussing the earliest photographs, some of which were of Revolutionary War veterans. This soon turned to a discussion of why none of them smiled, and from there to dentistry, dentures made of animal teeth, and the idea of using all parts of an animal, and what they're used for. Lee said that tusks are phallic. I told her she was just suffering from pianist envy. Eric drove me home, since Vienna is on the way to Herndon, and since this allowed me to stay at Chuck's past the time I would have had to leave to catch the last train. On Sunday morning I walked to the "Vienna" Winterfest, an annual hamfest (flea market of old and new electronics and related stuff) run by a local amateur radio club called the Vienna Wireless Society. It is the annual event I've been attending for the longest time, as I was at the first one 28 years ago, and have only missed two since then. Their web site claims this is the 26th, so they seem to have lost track. I'm not sure they have any members in common with when I was active in the club in the 1970s. Perhaps because most of the members then were very elderly. One had gotten started in ham radio in 1912. Unfortunately, they moved Winterfest from Vienna to Annandale four years ago. I would have biked rather than walked, except that I don't like to bike in the rain. By getting up at 9:00, I got out the door at 9:30, and arrived there at 11:30. This gave me time for one thorough walk-through before most vendors packed up at about 12:30. It seems those things end earlier every year. I saw WSFAn Evan Phillips there. I also saw Pat Bahn, who said he was there only because of the reminder I emailed him Saturday night. I asked Pat if he could give me a ride home if I purchased a UPS, which I needed for my new computer equipment at home. UPSs are far too heavy to hand-carry very far. He agreed to do so if I didn't mind accompanying him to the Newseum first. (History repeats itself. Last year we also met at the Winterfest, and I also purchased a UPS (for other computer equipment of mine), and he also drove it to my apartment.) But first, we attended a talk at the Winterfest by Mike Martin of PEPCO on radio interference, which he's in charge of tracking down and eliminating. Unlike his talk on the same subject earlier that day, before Pat or I had arrived, which had been attended by about 40 people, there were only about a dozen people left. So instead of a formal talk we had more of a round-table discussion. Complete with a genuine round table. He enthralled us with his tales of how his hard hat saved his life when a Verizon lag bolt fell off a pole. And how a nail almost but not quite touching aluminum siding can cause terrible TV interference. And how certain kinds of static are warning signs that you'll have a major house fire if you don't take prompt action. Pat drove me to Rosslyn, and then spent more time looking for a parking space than it took to drive there. He told me he had tried going to the Newseum Saturday afternoon, but had to wait an hour for a ticket, and then found the place intolerably crowded. (He had been there about an hour after I left on Saturday. I later learned that my brother had also been there at about the same time.) There were no tickets required then (nor had there been early Saturday afternoon), and it was less crowded, and we had a chance to see almost everything. Including the September 11th exhibit, and the wall containing copies of front pages of newspapers from all over the world -- all of them today's edition, which is a neat trick. At about 3:30 the fire alarm went off, so we went outside. I pointed out that there were outdoor exhibits, so we looked at those until the all clear. While looking at those, we met WSFAn Thierry Barston. As the 5 pm final closing time approached, we got in line for the last showing of the last (short) movie in the big theater under the dome. We chatted with a woman next to us in line, Ann Rauscher, who said she worked for the museum. We were amused by the movie telling us how best to tour the rest of the museum, since there would be no more such tours at that facility. After the movie, we chatted with her some more. Pat and I both noticed she wasn't wearing a ring. Pat drove me home, and I showed him my new computer equipment, and loaned him several books, including Stephenson's _Cryptonimicon_, Shenck's _Actual Innocence_, and a looseleaf notebook containing material about Voyager 2's encounter with Uranus. I had found the notebook at a library used book sale a few years ago. Pat told me that he had taken Amtrak several times recently, and never been asked for ID. I told him that I had been in the New Carrollton Amtrak station last night, and had noticed a sign warning that ID was required when buying tickets or checking luggage. And that I had asked both the employees on duty whether this sign meant that once the tickets are bought (perhaps through a machine, or by another person), whether a person with no checked luggage can travel with no ID. They had both been quite emphatic that despite the phrasing of the sign, every traveller has to have a government issued picture ID on them at all times. I don't know what to believe. The Worldcon is still about as far in the future as September 11th is in the past, so perhaps some of the mindless hysteria and panic will have dissipated by then. I had time for only a few more pages of the Stirling book before it was time for the dinner I had scheduled with my brother, who lives nearby in Vienna. I read the last few pages of the book during that dinner, before returning it to him so he could return it to the library where it's due before the next time I'll be seeing him. That dinner was the only food I had had all weekend other than at the WSFA meeting and Chuck's party. I noticed a copy of Sunday's Northern Virginia Journal, which had a story on the closing of the Newseum, and which quoted Ann Rauscher on the front page. Then I went home, and after a few short hours online, went promptly to bed shortly before sunrise, and got up bright and early first thing on Monday afternoon. -- Keith F. Lynch - kfl at keithlynch.net - http://keithlynch.net/ I always welcome replies to my e-mail, postings, and web pages, but unsolicited bulk e-mail (spam) is not acceptable. Please do not send me HTML, "rich text," or attachments, as all such email is discarded unread. _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp.