For all those who are googling for reviews of the concert by that band who played at the convention which shall not be named, I'm afraid that the closest I ever got to the festivities was escorting the family of a set of Japanese guests through the scrim on the mean streets of Baltimore between the BCC and the Arena, at the request of another ex-con-chair. The chaos involved in shepherding some nine thousand lemming-daft fanchildren through three blocks of a city as mad as Baltimore left me with nothing but admiration for our dedicated crowd-control experts, several of which I spotted along the route, playing traffic-cop at the crossings and lights, restraining the crowds from crowding the narrower sidewalks, and keeping the children and rats hydrated as the piper played on.
I suppose you'd have to ask the audience if the result was worth the effort, treasure, and dehydration involved. Most sounded tolerably amused. I find that I'm poorly equipped for the task of telling the difference between true joy, and the amusement which is the desiccated, deceased husk of joy.