Date: 2005-01-12 22:37 Subject: GAfilk Security: Public Mood: accomplished Music: Box of Fairies -- Gwen Knighton

After three days of glorious winter weather - where glorious may be loosely defined as nothing too dreadful was falling from the sky and the water in the toilet bowl wasn't frozen - Thursday morning dawned. No, really, that's pretty much the best you can say about it. It dawned. Grey skies, a certain amount of blowing snow, and reports of sleet moving in from Toronto. (Around here we believe nothing good comes from Toronto. Didn't I come here from Toronto you may ask? Well, yes, I did. But I have family here and besides, if people ask, I tell them I grew up in Kingston.) Over the weekend, I often found myself saying, "Minus 13 and sleet." Occasionally it was even in reply to a question asked about the weather back home. I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize for those times it wasn't. *g*

Got up early enough to get a good fire going in the woodstove and load it up with the sort of wood that would keep the house at least reasonably warmish for six hours as the Beloved had to go to work after dropping me off. Discovered that my sinus cold had not gone away during the night so stuck the drugs in my coat pocket. Got off the island with no problem. Beloved dropped me at the train station in plenty of time. Train left on time. (Actually, unless I'm with the mother-in-law, they generally do.) The closer we got to the city, the worse the weather became.

By the time I was waiting for the airport bus: sleet on snow. That's always fun. Bus took twice as long to get to the airport as usual but that's not a problem because I'm insanely early for my flight. This was due to the train schedule rather than any anal retentive traveling tendency on my part. This time. Actually, it always amazes me that people like, oh say msagara can disregard the whole 'you must be at the airport three hours before the flight' thing, arrive twenty minutes before boarding, and then wander off again having happily realized she has enough time to go find a coffee - just as a general, non-specific, why does she do this to me I have enough grey hair now example. *g*

Got my Thursday word count done at the airport although someone in a uniform did kick me off a wall outlet. Poo head.

By my departure time, the weather had pretty much cleared and we took off no more than half an hour late. It was one of those little planes (two by two seating - very bus-like) and when they had to reshuffle weight, I traded a seat at the front for a seat at the back thereby missing out on the thrilling fun of having my kidneys pummeled by a five year old all the way to Atlanta. Sympathizing with a small child whose legs don't touch the floor is one thing. Sitting in front of her is another thing entirely.

The airport in Atlanta is enormous. I know it's supposed to be second largest next to O'Hara but I didn't find O'Hara to be as overwhelming. Atlanta has its own subway. Also, southerners are very nice people. When I was looking lost, a local took me under her wing and pointed me right at Brenda Sutton. (I'm going to drop the Lj tag thing because I can't remember how to spell half of them.) We got my luggage then because, she had to pick up more people, Brenda pointed me at the shuttle bus pickup where a very nice airport employee found me the right bus. (He walked up to me and said, "You have that look..." *g*)

I had an outside room at the hotel! This was very cool. Because it was minus 13 and sleeting at home. Found Debbie Ohi in the bar (yes, it was weird to type that), some more people (Myra and John Hall) found us and we went to dinner in the hotel restaurant. By the time we left, our group was about three times larger.

Interesting point... there were no payphones in the hotel. The girl at the front desk said she thought there was one across the road. I guess it's a cell phone thing...

Friday morning I wrote, Friday afternoon I hung around registration where a certain amount of filking went on and I met the Interfilk Guest Steve Savitzky and his wife Colleen. Kathleen Sloan, the GOH, came in around four.

Opening Ceremonies was a celebration of a fannish New Year and many people were in formal or semi-formal wear. Bill said it was like a RenFaire, every year a few more people dressed up. I was in my 'little black dress' which continues to fit even with the extra pounds. Yay. I have to say that filkers clean up very nicely. Finally met Teri Wachowiak, the Toastmistress. We sang all five (yes, there's five) verses of For Auld Lang Syne and given the room, it even sounded good. Although I still think 'we'll tak a right guid-willie waught' sounds smutty. Though that could just be me.

The guests were provided with cans of silly string. Those things have some distance! Kathleen stood on a chair to flatten her trajectory and managed to get string almost to the back of the room. Onto Jody and Debbie anyhow.

Guests then judged the MY FILK game show where the audience, thanks to help from Bill Roper, very nearly beat Team A. Team 2 took the medal home mostly because Cat Faber is terrifyingly good at this game.

Oh right... a little late but... The question was 'how many companies mentioned in Do It Yourself are still in business?' and the answer was two: IBM and HP. However, on the Bayfilk recording I have (can't find the tape, not sure which one), Bill says, "If you don't know the companies, you can say watermelon watermelon watermelon or if you prefer, Apple, Apple, Apple and they all mean the same thing." So I'd like to add Apple to the answer and get another point for the judges. Because it's not like I'm screamingly competitive or anything. *g*

While the final song was being written, Kathleen and I ran upstairs and changed so there was no chance we'd miss the beginning of Daniel and Melissa's concert. Which was wonderful. Harking back to when we first met - my truck's battery died over an FKO - they gave me a little tiny set of jumper cables. The jumper cables come back into the story later...

I listened at the open filk until about 1AM then went upstairs and fell over.

Saturday at noon I did my reading, sang Pervy Hobbit Fancier (on key!)(hey, you should be thrilled, most of you are going to be putting up with my learning curve *g*), and signed a few books. Went to Steve Savitzky's concert, and discovered that I have a number of Steve's songs! Always a pleasant surprise. I love his guitar work. Nice guitar too. Not a Martin but... *g* Next it was time for Teri and the Space Pirates. There was a small technical difficulty when part of Bill's sound system died but it was a great concert and later I got the lyrics to one of the songs from Teri.

Songs and singers were starting to blur at bit at this point but memorable in the 2X10's were Three Weird Sisters who did some beautiful harmonies, Gary who did a funny/sweet 'Break the Glass' and Larry Kirby whose voice I love and who did a wonderful song based on the time he recited Jabberwocky back in school. The man needs to do a CD. And if he has, why am I only finding out now?

Ah. The dinner dance. Our table almost won the bottle of wine but headed to the buffet second last instead of last. Too bad really, we wanted to get Kathleen drunk before her concert. The food was fairly standard hotel food but there were glasses of ice tea as well as water on the table. And the music! Oh the music! (yes, that was a riff on Tiny Tim - 5 points to everyone who got it) Jodi Krangle and The GAFilk House Band - Mary Crowell, Dave Rood, George Powell, Brian Richardson and Teresa Powell - slayed some wonderful stuff - swingy, torchy, jazzy, dancy; I'd say adjectives fail me except that I seem to be scattering them liberally. I wasn't going to dance, because, well, I don't dance, and turned down Brenda once but then, it looked like SO much fun and Spencer asked so I got up and we managed fine in spite of both of us insisting we didn't know what we were doing. And then, of course, I owed Brenda a dance. And got dipped. *g* Next year, Kathleen should run a dance clinic.

Yeah. Next year. See, the thing is, when I called the beloved after the dance, she said: "Well if you're having so much fun, why don't you go back next year." She never says that. Usually she says, "The house is freezing and the cats tried to eat me in my sleep. When are you coming home?" I'd be worried about the mailman except I know the mailman and... well, no. A thousand times no.

Kathleen's concert was next and while it was essentially what she'd done at FKO last spring that was fine since I'd really enjoyed what she'd done at FKO and definitely enjoyed hearing it again. One good thing about the cold, I had lots of tissues with me for Road to Roswell.

I bid on a couple of things in the auction but didn't get them.

Open filk was massively crowded in the smaller room and fairly empty in the larger. Go figure. There was a moment I could have slipped a song in but then things made a 90 degree turn and the moment was gone. Which was fine by me -- given the level of talent in the room and the con in general, I'd just as soon listen. Fell over about three. Right about the time that 300 army personnel showed up at the hotel. Seriously.

Came a little late to breakfast the next morning - long after the army had decimated the place -- and all the people I knew were just finishing so Kathleen introduced me to Teresa and George but I kind of felt like I'd been abandoned on their doorstep and since as it happened they were just finishing too and now they'd have to sit around and yadda yadda social insecurity yadda. As a result I suspect I made a lousy impression.

Finally made it into the dealer's room. Bought a book and three CD's.

Went to closing ceremonies. Got my GAfilk hat. Said I was going to wear it back across the border just so I could explain it. Didn't. Sorry. Probably for the best though.

At the end of Strangers No More, We Sing Kathleen hit a note that knocked one of the silver stars off the wall over the stage. From the back of the room. I swear. I was standing right there and I saw it with my own two eyes.

Dinner at the Steak and Ale with Daniel and Melissa - joined by Kathleen, Spencer and Jan because the larger party was taking a bit of time to get together. A good dinner! Huge desserts. Since we were a course ahead, Debbie came by for a pre-order taste.

You know, the website's right. The GAfilk dead dog is amazing. Bill and Daniel riffing off each other during 'When I was a Boy' would have been worth the price of the con... you know, had I paid for the con and not been a guest. Mind you, being a guest allowed me to claim guest privilege twice and sing - once because I wanted to get it over with (I'm really really nervous when I have to play in front of people and although John Hall kindly lent me his Martin so I wasn't having to adapt to a different guitar I got nervous enough to lose the melody and start singing the harmony - which, as my singing teacher points out, is fine as long as someone is singing the melody... which no one was because that's what I was supposed to be doing) where was I? Oh yeah. The second time was because I have this LOTR song that worked really well after one of Seanan's songs that Jodi sang. Because never let it be said I'm not willing to make a total ass of myself and sing a cappella after Jodi. *g* Went okay though. (I asked later.) (Oh, and Joey... if you're still reading... I held onto the melody throughout!)

I have no idea what time the dead dog broke up but Daniel sent us all off with Demons in Your Bed. Sometimes, he's one very scary dude. It's the crazy eyes.

Breakfast with Bill and Brenda and the other guests in the morning (actually planned! Oooo!) then, reluctantly leaving because I'd had such a wonderful time and I didn't want it to end, a shuttle run to the airport. I felt like quite the cosmopolitan traveler negotiating all that space by myself. Until I discovered I was at the wrong gate but since I was only two away (27 and 29 are very similar numbers!) no harm no foul. There were three babies on the flight home. One of them liked flying.

Made my bus/train connection in lots of time. Tried to finish my thousand words on the train but fell asleep. When your own writing is putting you to sleep... time to quit for the day.

Words to live by I think...