22 messages telling me the Blue Rabbit in the photo I took at Anthrocon is probably Stitch from the film, Lilo and Stitch. Okay, so sue me. I didn't see the movie.
I'm a member of the Magic Castle, the famed club for magicians in Hollywood. To be a member is to frequently (like, every year, it seems) have to follow and endure the club's current financial crisis or challenge to its very existence.
So far, it's survived 'em all and it looks now like it will survive the latest. The land on which the Castle is built was put up for sale by the family that has owned it for a very long time. No buyer has been selected but according to this article, the terms of any sale will stipulate that the Magic Castle (and Yamashiro, a Japanese restaurant just up the hill) must remain. We're leery of what they may do with the surrounding turf but it's good to hear that the Castle is not likely to disappear.
P.S. Every time I mention here that I'm a member, I get e-mails from strangers begging for guest passes. I'm sorry but the answer is no. And when you then write me again and tell me of the wonderful, deserving person you know whose only dream in life has been to visit the Magic Castle and could I please make an exception in just this one case, the answer will still be no.
The pictures above are of a Hawaiian Anteater, a Blue Rabbit (I guess) and some sort of Big Cat. They're three of more than 350 "fursuits" that have been parading around Anthrocon here in Pittsburgh the last few days. "Fursuit," it had to be explained to me, refers to any full body animal costume, regardless of whether the animal is furry. Someone was wearing a whale fursuit, for instance. But most are furry. Most are of cats, dogs, wolves, foxes or some sort of indeterminate canine midway between domestic and wild. Most are also beautiful and lovingly handcrafted either by the wearer or some skilled artisan for no other goal than to show off and please other con attendees.
They were one of the features of Anthrocon. Another was the sheer friendliness of almost 3000 people who gathered this weekend and had, like my friend Carolyn and me, a very good time. It's a bit difficult to explain what goes on at a "furry" convention. Unlike your big comic conventions, it's not about commerce. The Dealers Room is small and the sellers mainly have furry costume parts (good place to get an extra tail) or handmade artifacts with an animal theme. There are a lot of artists around doing animal sketches for small fees and many of those artists are quite gifted and well encouraged by the experience. There's an art show. There are programming items. (Today, I did a panel with cartoon voice superstar Rob Paulsen on animation voicing and later, another with Carolyn on Pogo and the work of her father, the late Walt Kelly.) There are games and films and puppet shows — there are a lot of splendid puppeteers here — and parties. Mostly, I guess it's about seeing one another. Though this is the largest convention of its kind, it's still small enough that everyone almost seems to know everyone else.
Presiding over it all is a man of remarkable energy and good will. He goes by the name of "Uncle Kage" (rhymes with "foggy") but I have it on good authority that he's really an actual scientist-type named Dr. Sam Conway. His title I believe is Chairman of the Board but he's more of a Superhost and just watching him in action was worth the trip to Pittsburgh. I've been going to comic conventions and s-f conventions and film conventions since 1970 and, completely omitting consideration of monsters like the one they have each year in San Diego, I've never seen a more expertly-run con...or one run more benevolently. The volunteer staff (no one, including Uncle Kage, is paid a nickel) is phenomenal in its efficiency and politeness. And as a Guest of Honor person, I've never been made to feel more welcome or treated with such luxury.
I've received a few e-mails asking if I could explain why these folks like to dress up like animals or adopt animal nicknames or write tales of anthropomorphic animals. No, I can't. Just as I can't explain why people in this world do a lot of things that don't coincide with my tastes or interests. I don't understand why people get tattoos or pierce body parts or eat cole slaw or ride roller coasters or vote for George Bush or sleep with some of the people they sleep with...or do any of a thousand other things I could name that I cannot conceive of myself ever doing. I am, however, capable of appreciating that some who find joy in such activities are fine, good people and I would be doing myself a disservice to erect any sort of needless barrier between them and me. With the exception of the ones who vote for Bush, they do me no harm...and maybe, when they're not doing whatever it is I don't "get," they're doing something I can learn from or even want to emulate.
The folks I've met here at Anthrocon — with fewer exceptions than you'd imagine — have been decent, bright, creative and charming people. Does dressing up occasionally in a furry suit make you that way? Maybe not. If it does, I can think of a lot of people who ought to be in chipmunk costumes this very minute.
I just figured something out. For several weeks now, every time I go to Google, the ads in the margin are all trying to sell me Bobby Darin ringtones. I'm not sure if anyone in the world wants Bobby Darin on their cellphone but I sure don't...and I couldn't imagine why the Google people thought I'd be interested. They're supposed to have "targeted" ads, meaning that the ad relates in some way to you or your browsing habits, but I couldn't recall ever Googling the name of Bobby Darin.
So suddenly it dawns on me: My cousin David Evanier wrote a book about Bobby Darin. It's linking the name Evanier to Bobby Darin and that translates into some hyperspace assumption that I care about him. Mystery solved.
David also wrote a book about Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. I don't want them on my cellphone, either.
The last few days, I've been linking to potato chip commercials with Bert Lahr. Here, from earlier in his career, is one of the comedy songs that made him famous on the stage. I'm not sure what film this is from and I really don't understand much of the number. But boy, is he good at it.
July 9, 2007
