And a big hound-dog howdy to you all from the scrumptious city of San Francisco where WonderCon is off to a grand start. I have given up trying to whip up convention reports that make one con sound markedly different from the same con in previous years. They rarely are. Certainly every WonderCon I've attended — must be about a dozen-and-a-half — has been great fun and I see no reason to expect any less of this one.
So what is different? Why, to paraphrase my people around this time of year, is this WonderCon different from all other WonderCons. Well, this one includes Hunter and Stan Freberg as guests. They were a big hit here today…folks flocking to get signed photos and books and CDs of Stan Freberg Presents the United States of America. The audience seemed to really enjoy the talk Hunter and Stan gave.
Me, I'm just wandering around, seeing friends, trying to overcome a weird mental block I seem to have developed upon running into folks I know at conventions. I don't know if I've talked about this here before but this is how it seems to work. I have a great memory for most things…and by the way, I've learned to always add that "for most things" part. If you just say, "I have a great memory," then people expect you to remember absolutely everything. If and when you don't, they think you're doing something deliberate — i.e., "You couldn't possibly have forgotten to pick up that package for me." You did but they don't believe that because, you know, you're the guy who remembers everything.
So I have this great memory but I also have a dread fear of addressing someone by the wrong name. I've only done it a few times in my life and I know it's no big deal to most people…but when it does happen, I feel awful — probably too awful. At a convention like this, the fear really takes over. I'll see Daniel coming towards me to say hello and I know it's Daniel. It's obviously Daniel. I know Daniel and that's Daniel. But just as I'm about to say "Hi, Daniel," a little paranoid voice in my brain suddenly goes, "Wait! Are you absolutely sure that's Daniel?" And to play it safe, I find myself saying just "Hi" and it's painfully obvious to all from the rhythm that the name should be in there. The guy just said "Hi, Mark" so I should say "Hi, Daniel" but I don't. I just say "Hi."
Whereupon Daniel, who I knew all along was Daniel, looks at me with a hurt look. The guy with the great memory didn't remember him.
To make matters worse: At conventions, I've developed this bad habit, which comes out of the above concern, of looking at everyone's name badge. Everyone's. Even if I've known the person for 20+ years, when I run into them to double-check that I'm right about their name. Sergio Aragonés is probably my best friend in the whole world, at least in the Mustache Division. When I run into Sergio at a con, I can't help but peek at his name badge…like some little rogue bit of paranoia within me needs to be reassured that the guy I think is Sergio is Sergio.
And sometimes, it turns out that it isn't Sergio. It's Daniel. But that's too confusing even for me.
To further complicate my problem, a lot of folks at cons no longer pin badges to their chests. Some pin them to their belts so my eyes have to go wandering for the badge, which makes it more obvious. And some wear their badges on these lanyards around their necks. They're more convenient to put on and they don't leave your shirts full of tiny holes…but they yield about a 50-50 chance that your badge will be backwards and therefore inaccessible.
Yeah, I know I worry too much about stuff like this. I guess it's a compliment to the operators of WonderCon that that's about the only problem I can find to write about tonight. I'm going to try to knock this off. In fact, I will knock it off or my name isn't…
…Mark. Yeah, Mark. I knew that. I just had to mentally double-check it and make sure.