Back from Tulsa

I have safely returned from the wilds of Oklahoma after experiencing the delights of Conestoga. The entire journey was not without its interesting bits. For one, Tulsa is much, much farther away from San Antonio than one would expect from just glancing on maps. I chalk this up to the "Texas effect." Oklahoma is so much smaller than Texas, after all, that once you're within that state everything is within reasonable reach. The trouble is that to get to Oklahoma, I first had to drive to Dallas, which is pretty much at the end of the earth. And the border's more than an hour's drive past that. With the distance involved, I almost felt I was driving to El Paso--only it was greener with more hills.

The Oklahoma highway system left something to be desired as well. All the logical routes from point A to point B were occupied by toll roads--which I was not prepared for. Taking the less direct routes led me to a time warp, where I was driving through 1970s Texas, in which the highway department had yet to discover a thing called the "bypass." When highways wrap around town squares and stop every few blocks for traffic lights, well, that's old-school Americana. Oklahoma didn't have the worst roads on my trip, however. That distinction goes to the stretch of I-35 between Hillsboro and Dallas. Egads, that highway is downright awful.

The convention itself was good fun. I made it just in time for opening ceremonies. Brad Denton was the toastmaster, and had the crowd in stitches with his unique view of reality--one that included Mr. T at every opportunity. I got to see the Oklahoma writers--Kathy Wentworth, Brad Sinor, Brian Hopkins--that only sporadically make the Texas cons. It was good to meet and mingle with new faces.

The panels were entertaining: Comics: The Bastard Child of SF/F was a hoot, mainly because Howard Waldrop was on it with me. Howard's always a hoot. I was dragged onto the film panel, which was fun, and we talked about the good and bad SF and fantasy films of the year. The Writers of the Future panel had more panelists than I thought possible--Wentworth's been cultivating her locals quite effectively! I got to watch Lou Antonelli moderate his first panel, and am continually impressed by how easily this newcomer to cons and fandom blends in and makes himself an integral part of the proceedings. We managed to lose Lou when we went for dinner on Saturday night, however. Waldrop, Denton, Warren and Caroline Spector, George R.R. Martin and several others trekked over to a barbecue place called the Rib Crib. Actually, Waldrop's group went to the wrong one, but caught up eventually. Decent barbecue and a variety of sauces, but Rudy's barbecue sauce still has it beat. There weren't enough high chairs for the elevated tables we sat at, so Warren Spector sat down low, looking like a little kid peeking over the edge. Much humor was had at his expense.

Later that night, Waldrop and Martin sat in a corner of the con suite singing theme songs from old TV westerns. That may indeed become a Waldrop blog entry in the future, as one western was based on chapters from "The Fairy Queen." Alas, I forget which one it was. I sat in on the sing-along, vastly out of my depth (the only classic westerns I really remember beyond Gunsmoke and Bonanza were The Virginian and Big Valley, and I couldn't recall the theme to either). Most of the time I spent at the Fencon party, passing out more of my Voices of Vision homebrew. The reception was overwhelmingly positive, and the next day, Zane from Edge Books told me several folks came up and bought copies of my book, specifically referencing the beer. So there's some degree of success at work, but at the very least many people are being made happy.

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