Aggiecon 2008

I attended my first science fiction convention, Aggiecon 20, in 1989. I didn't actually see much of it, being a worker in the dealers room, but I did some gaming and met Octavia Butler in passing. The next year I ran the dealers room, and in 1991 I ran the whole shebang, with Aggiecon 22 being somewhat successful, relatively speaking. Since then, I've attended every intervening Aggiecon in some form or fashion, even the Michael Moorcock year in which I wrecked my truck and was only able to stumble in for an hour or so.

That's something like 19 consecutive conventions, a streak unbroken until this year. Aggiecon 39 was held this past weekend. I didn't attend. I wasn't invited. From what I hear, a number of the so-called "regulars" weren't there either. The current group of students in charge seem inclined to turn it into a media convention, with writers relegated to an afterthought. I have to question the long-term viability of a convention that bills an actress such as Ellen Muth from the defunct TV series Dead Like Me as the main attraction, but it's their con and they can run it as they please. I obviously have a lot of emotional investment in that con, and hate to see it fade away after all the attempts by the university administration to kill it over the years, but the fact is, Aggiecon's been long since replaced by Armadillocon, Apollocon and even ConDFW as conventions I look forward to attending the most every year. The reverse used to be the case.

Not that I'm suffering over here, mind you. I got a lot of yard work done Sunday. The Wife and the girls spent Saturday at a Girl Scout retreat while the Bug and I did a bunch of male bonding stuff. The Wife and I watched a few episodes of Tell Me You Love Me via Netflix (not for everyone, but we're quite taken with it) and I finally got to see Hollywoodland. And I also finished part 9 of MEMORY, which was no small feat.

So it's not like I was sitting at home, pining for a last-minute call from the convention. But a snub's a snub, and I'm probably taking it a little more personally than I should. I suspect I'll get over it.

Now Playing: The Beatles Abbey Road

New MEMORY

After an unplanned three-week hiatus, there is finally a new chapter of my ongoing online serial, MEMORY, up at No Fear of the Future. Enjoy.

Now Playing: The Beatles Abbey Road

Friday Night Videos

Ah, the Romantics. One of those popular 80s bands that few people remember these days. One can only wonder what they were thinking when they filmed this video. I'm sure that on paper it looked golden: Combined a 1950's "tough guy" aesthetic with black leather jackets and pompadours with the neon glam of hair metal. The end result, however, went horribly, tragically wrong. Maybe it's a good thing few people remember this band. The song kicks all sorts of ass, though.



Previously on Friday Night Videos... Corey Hart

Now Playing:

Animaniacs

Listening to my Dr. Demento Shows as I prep them for sale on Ebay, I've come across songs from the Animaniacs TV series more then once. And it reminds me how much I loved this program when I was in college and a freshly-minted graduate. I never warmed to Tiny Toons, but Animaniacs were awesome on so many different levels. Consider "Wakko's America":



Or perhaps "Yakko's World":



I'm going to have to add the DVDs to the ol' Netflix queue to enjoy with the young 'uns. I'll probably slot them in right after the upcoming Rocky & Bullwinkle discs...

Now Playing: Dr. Demento Show April 5-6, 1997

UCLA 51, Texas A&M 49*

Bitter? Me? Why on earth would I be bitter? The fact that UCLA fans online afforded A&M more respect before the game than after--essentially saying "if your team didn't suck so much we wouldn't have kicked your ass so bad"--has me a little peeved. Losing is one thing. A&M's done plenty of that in basketball. But playing a No. 1 seed to the wire only to have the game decided on an excruciating non-call is wrong on just about every level.



To have the Bruins fans strutting around thumping their chests like they'd just taken out Kansas or some other traditional power, as opposed to a No. 9 seed they were supposed to blow out by 10-plus points is too much. Especially when practically everyone else in the country is calling it for what it was.

Maybe Donald Sloan would have gotten to the foul line if he'd produced autopsy scars.

Sloan got slapped and knocked down on the way to the potential tying basket in the final seconds of the Texas A&M Aggies' second-round NCAA Tournament game against the UCLA Bruins. The cameras don't lie: In 49 states, what the Bruins defense did to Sloan would have constituted a mugging.

The truth is that the Aggies were in Anaheim, Calif., just down the road from the UCLA campus. The truth doesn't set the Aggies free or send them to the next round.

Right or wrong, that's the kind of call — or non-call — that almost invariably goes the way of the marquee team.

Especially a marquee team that is seeded No. 1 and is the gold standard of college basketball programs.

Steve Campbell's right about delivering a knockout punch, though. Against a golden team like UCLA, you've got to have a 10-point lead at the end of the game, rather than just after halftime, so bad calls or non-calls can't affect the outcome. Last year against Memphis, Law didn't make his layup and we lost the game. Two years ago against LSU, our guys fell apart in the final seconds and we lost the game. Both of those outcomes were a direct result of the play on the court. This year... well, this year's outcome burns. It's going to for a long, long time I suspect.

I hope Kansas or t.u. kicks the snot out of UCLA in the Final Four or in the final. Actually, I hope anyone playing UCLA kicks the snot outta the Bruins from here on out, preferably aided by a bunch of non-calls to rub salt into the wound.

Update: Our Big 12 friends to the north who tend to know something about the game of basketball, namely Jawhawks fans, have put together this little video. Thanks, guys. I wonder if UCLA would've gotten that call had they been playing Kansas. Or Duke. Or UNC...



Now Playing: Buffalo Springfield Retrospective

Friday Night Videos

It is impossible to do any retrospective video feature without eventually dealing with Corey Hart (at least, that's the case if you're a child of the '80s). What is it with the '80s and the name Corey? Feldman, Haim, Hart... was there something in the water? In any event, I'm duty bound to feature a Corey Hart video and song, but "Sunglasses at Night" is simply way too obvious (even if the song gets me and The Wife to sing along). Instead, I offer for your entertainment this obscure piece of Asian fascination from 1985: The Boy in the Box.



Previously on Friday Night Videos... Ray Davies.

Now Playing: Supertramp Classics

Hoops to jump through

Folks who know me know that I rarely do anything by half measures. I develop an interest in something, and go all-out to immerse myself in it, to the point of obsession sometime. Such is the case with passion flowers, such is the case with 1937 Studebakers, and now, such is the case with photography.

I never took photojournalism in college. I earned my journalism degree without learning how to take even a snapshot, and from time to time, this sad lack of skill on my part has reared its ugly head to complicate situations that should've been fairly straightforward. I wasted lots of 35mm film by not having a clue what I was doing, and while the acquisition of a digital point-and-shoot improved matters dramatically, any decent photos I take are still more a matter of luck than competence.

So, I've learned a little bit of the underlying basics by reading The Wife's old photography books (she's actually a pretty good shutterbug) but theory has only taken me so far. What I need (I've gotten into my head) is formal training. It just so happens that Texas State has a staff education developmental leave program, which allows select individuals to take classes at the university, and the university picks up the tab for tuition and fees. There are restrictions--participants are limited to four semesters worth of participation, lifetime; one must take a minimum of 9 hours and a maximum of 12. Lots of approvals are required. Time off from work is also an option, although this poses severe problems for a small office staff such as mine (there are only two of us).

Even so, I've applied and been approved for this. I applied as a transfer, under the classification of "Second degree seeking student" and been accepted. After conferring with an advisor and taking my unique needs and situation into consideration, we settled on three courses--a straight photojournalism course, an introduction to photography course offered by the fine arts department (which has a degree specialization in photography) and a 2/D design course, which is actually a prerequisite for the intro to photography course, but which I'd be allowed to take concurrently via a departmental waiver. This has been consuming me for the better part of two semesters. The logistics are quite daunting, particularly paperwork deadlines that are in conflict with when actual information needed to complete them will be available. But now that I've been approved, everything is all hunky-dory, right?

Wrong. I found out today that the photojournalism course isn't being offered in the fall. There's talk of maybe bringing in an adjunct to teach the class, but the department won't know one way or the other for another three weeks. I have to turn in my class schedule to HR next week (with actual registration for classes beginning the following week--go figure). I am, as they say, up the proverbial creek. If I can't take that photojournalism course, or find a suitable substitute to make my nine hours, I'll probably have to drop out of the program. Which would suck, after all the hoop jumping I've done thus far.

I've got a meeting scheduled with the advisor tomorrow. Hopefully we can work through this mess. If not, I'm probably going to be in a pissy mood for the next four months or so.

Now Playing: Pink Floyd Meddle