Opening Day of GenCon
My job at this event is to be a facilitator. I run for packages, fetch food, shepherd kids, assure communication, and monitor the emotional states of those under my care. The kids weathered the first day really well. Link divided his time between the Lego giant inflatable pyramid and the electronic gaming room. Kiki was more eclectic and made friends with an artist who is exhibiting there. They each had a couple of tired spots, but for the most part they did not become over stimulated or stressed. I expect them to burn out some time before the convention is over. We’ll get through it.
Conventions always have lots of emotional highs and lows with accompanying anxieties. Yesterday I was worried that we had not brought enough merchandise. Tomorrow I expect to worry that I brought too much. Today featured many moments of tiredness where I could hardly find the energy to interact with people. But often a few minutes later I found myself on my feet cheerfully talking to strangers about our wares. Howard has similar highs and lows. We try to bolster each other through the lows and it seems to work mostly. It helps a lot that we now have enough experience to recognize that the lows are temporary and not an accurate assessment of how the convention is going.
The convention experience washes over me. There is so much to process that I can not possibly retain it all. But bits and pieces stick, sometimes without particular reason. Like the beautiful petite Asian woman I saw walking through the dealer’s room. She looked straight out of a fantasy painting with her beautiful features and long black hair. I also remember bits and pieces of the stories people tell me as we stand chatting at the booth. I realize once again that every life is full of stories to tell. Then I finally met in person the guy with whom I’ve corresponded multiple times because the postal service in his town seems nigh incapable of delivering a package without losing it.
By dinner we were all a bit frazzled and ready to collapse. Instead we found an odd little Italian place which made us wind our way through the kitchen and a maze of twisty white-tiled passages in order to get to the dining area. The restaurant had an earthy aesthetic about the black and white photographs adorning the walls. They were the visual equivalent of fart jokes. But the food was good, so we concentrated on that instead.
The kids and I are spending the evening in our room. It is nice and quiet here. Howard ventured out to find a game to play.