Penguicon 2.0 — Sarah Zettel

Penguicon is a new and unique area gathering. It's part SF con, part Linux con. This year the guest of honor was Neil Gaiman.

My darling husband agreed to mind the Sweet Pea this weekend, and off I went to exotic Novi, MI all of a Saturday morning.

It was a quick con, so events got a little blurry, so I won't try this in order. I had four panels on Saturday,counting the autographing. We started with Do stories have gender? at 11:00, which apparently was suggested by a Neil Gaiman essay where he (in his words) "attempted" to discuss his feeling that some of his stories in particular felt masculine while others felt feminine. 'Cause Neil was there, the thing was well attended and the discussion went well although I admit, I did go off on a couple of soap box issues. I have a deep dislike of people describing anything that feels "feminine" as "mysterious." I'm NOT a mystery, d*mn it! I'm at least as comprehensible as you are, and given the folks in that room, I was probably a darn sight more comprehensible than some of them.

There was a long break after that. Comrade Steven and I hit the hotel restauruant for chat and food. Adequate comestibles were achieved. I had a Philly steak and cheese and fries. We were soon joined by friends Joe and Lisa, and then Jon, and then Erica and her new little baby Jack, so much excellent conversation ensued.

The autographing was at 2 pm. I initially wasn't going to go, because I'm local, and pretty much everybody at this con who wanted my autograph had it, and well, Neil was signing. There's only so much ego readjustment I can take. But, before my first panel, I'd made an initial pass at the dealer's room, and met a woman there who said she'd have a book for me to sign, so I went. It turned out to be worth it. We did get to talk briefly with Neil, who is very charming, and got to hear his William Shatner imitation, which is _priceless_. There was some shuffling of tables to make room for us and the weapons demo that was going on, but it all got sorted out, and the predictable happened. Neil got the line and we got, well, some good conversation. Jane Irwin, who's a graphic novelist proved herself an entrepeneur and took one of the table cloths and laid out all her wares for the captive audience to puruse while waiting. My lady showed up, I signed her book. I hung around for a little bit, I blew that popsicle stand in favor of the dealer's room.

And there, ladies and gentlemen, I met my doom. We've got a new dealer who's been showing up called Second Hand Silk. This woman acquires, cleans, repairs and sells vintage kimonos and (I hope I'm spelling this right) haoris, which are the short kimono jackets. I usually look at her stuff, exclaim "lovely!" and walk away. Not so this time. This time, as I was looking through her book, I found _it_. It's a jacket, all in shades of red, fading to coral, fading to white. Abstract cranes fly across the sleeves and back, and some of them are picked out in gold thread. It's all silk, and it felt beautiful and hangs beautifully when worn. It was bright and gorgeous and it fit. Comrade Steven proved himself a fine enabler by holding the mirror.

Needless to say, it's mine now.

Then came the Not Great Moment. I was hurrying out of the dealer's room with my new purchase so I could go upstairs, get my white shell and wear it At Once. I heard a loud bang, exactly like a shot, and felt something wizz past my neck. I froze, of course, and saw one of the dealers with this _thing_. It was a contraption of plastic and elastic on a stick that when pulled back, made the noise, and fires a hard puff of air in the direction you point it in. Tim later informed me this was a standard physics toy. Well, I was way far from amused, in part because at that second I really was not sure whether that hard blast I felt go past my _neck_ was air or, say, a hard rubber ball. I loudly told this grinning idiot "Do _not_ do that! I did _not_ volunteer to be shot at!" and went on my way.

I got out into the hall, and there was a second group of people playing with one of these things.

And they shot at me.

I screamed at them. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't stop myself. "DO NOT DO THAT! THAT IS THE SECOND TIME THAT'S HAPPENED! I DID _NOT_ VOLUNTEER TO BE SHOT AT!" And I went on my way, and heard the "sheesh, what's her problem?" mutters behind my back.

Got to the elevator. Friendly people were there, and they asked, as one will, "How're you doing?" and I realized I was starting to shake, and shake hard. "Not so well, suddenly," I say, trying to get a grip. Just then, Comrade Steven comes up, asks a similar question, and I start crying. Hard. Mortifying, but I couldn't stop. Steven helped me get back to my room, got me a bottle of water, and I calmed down fairly quickly, and listened while I explained what had happened. Water and sympathy had the whole thing over with fairly quickly, but it was really, really disconcerting.

So, to those of you who play with physics toys, DO NOT SHOOT THE PASSERS BY!!!

Things picked up quickly after that. But that's for another post.

Comments

[Matt Arnold]

Sarah,
I'll suggest to the committee that we add to the physical activities section of the next program book something like, "It is inconsiderate and unacceptable to fire air guns at unsuspecting passerby."

[Anne Harris]

Interestingly enough, Sarah, I had my own encounter with an air shooter (or whatever you want to call it) the weekend before at Norwescon. I was hurtling down the hall, late to my next panel when, yes, I heard a loud noise and felt something hit my chest. It startled a very undignified sqwauk out of me, I can tell you. Apparently mid-April is Author Season.

[Howard Tayler]

I got shot with the same airgun, and enjoyed it so much I bought the company.

(Well, actually I just bought one gun for myself, took it home, and shot the kids who also loved it. Then again, they saw it coming).

Sarah, your reaction is uncharacteristic, but not unreasonable. It sounds like you actually went into a state of shock, probably as a result of several events conspiring together to leave you more susceptible. Penguicon, great fun though it was, was a nonstop stream of input, much of which was surprising, stressing, and even threatening. Given that, you're absolutely justified in your reaction (not that you needed MY vote of confidence.)

--Howard

[Catherine]

We encountered those in Florida. The vendor shot people walking by as a way of promoting his product. I think it's probably good manners not to shoot from behind and to keep your distance so it's more amusing than startling.

Science fiction conventions are not good places to find people practicing good manners. There are lots of interesting and amusing and intelligent people there. There are also lots of kids who got picked last for T-ball every day, who had their underpants run up flagpoles, who got beat up every day after school, etc. Not everyone who grows up on the wrong side of the popular crowd is able to compensate for lack of genteel socialization. It gets a little bit tiring, for me, and I've more than once found myself angry over rudeness perpetrated at a con. I just try to remember that there are nice people there, too.

[Lisa]

I got shot too, but it was face on so I knew it was coming and even set up to try to "catch" the shot. I was expecting some soft styrofoam ball to come out of the thing, and was surprised to learn that I was trying to catch an "air ball".