Tuesday, August 03, 2004

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.

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