Last month at World Horror, several people asked me if I was going to NECON. I was non-committal at best. It’s by far my favorite convention, but I couldn’t see going to two within just a few weeks. I missed NECON last year and had resigned myself to missing NECON 33 as well.
As the time drew closer, though, I began to debate with myself over going. I’d just about have myself convinced and then I’d have second thoughts. Back and forth I went. Finally, I decided to see what airfare to Providence would cost this close to the convention. I discovered, to my delight, that I had enough frequent flier miles to pay for the trip, so it only cost $85 for the plane ticket. I asked my wife what she thought, she said I should go, and that decided it. I went. And boy am I glad I did.
I wonder how many people make up the NECON extended family. Attendance caps out at 200 per year, but a lot of the same people have been going for years. Decades, in some cases. Most people, once they go the first time, are hooked. A few don’t get the concept of NECON, which is almost an anti-convention in a sense, and never come back again, but they’re rare, I think.
My late decision messed up my schedule a bit, so I didn’t have time to write something new for Storytellers Unplugged this month. Instead I recycled a 2007 essay called Why go to conventions? that seemed appropriate, both in its timing and subject matter.
I got into Providence on Thursday afternoon, rented a car and drove down to the convention center. Our annual tradition is to have dinner at Jacky’s Galaxie, a Chinese restaurant in Bristol, RI. Our group was smaller this year, but it was still a lot of fun, and everything everyone does is fodder for jokes the rest of the weekend.
Because of the heat and humidity on Friday morning, they decided to swap out bowling for miniature golf (can’t have all those writers dying from heat stroke). The last time there was bowling (two years ago), I played with Dan Foley and Rick Hautala…and won the gold medal. My only NECON olympics medal ever. I almost went again, but part of me wanted to preserve the memory of playing with Rick, who was the subject of a memorial on Thursday evening. That was the last time I saw him.
Instead, I joined up with Brian Keene, Mary SanGiovanni, Dave Thomas and Rio Youers for a pilgrimage to Lovecraft’s grave. It was hot as blazes, but we had a great time, took lots of pictures, prepared gags for future use. The grave (pictured) is quite small. Hard to read in the direct light. It has his name and dates and, at the bottom, “I am Providence.” There’s also a monument in front of it that has his parents’ names along with his. People have put coins (mostly American, but I saw a Rand coin and a Canadian quarter) on top of the headstone, and, for reasons I don’t grok, have left business cards. We stopped off at a bar near the waterfront for lunch. A great outing, and the day was only half over.
I went to a couple of panels in the afternoon, then eight of us went out to dinner on the waterfront. My meal was delivered much later than everyone else’s, but I didn’t mind because I was having such a good time talking to people. Apparently they had cooked the wrong kind of salmon or something like that. Jack Haringa was amazed that I didn’t complain more or demand that the meal be taken off the check. Then he remembered that I’m Canadian and said, “I’ll bet you even apologized to the waitress!” We had ice cream after, eating fast to keep ahead of the melting desert on the boardwalk. Then it was back to the convention for the toastmaster’s speech (Rio Youers) and the NECON update (Mike Myers). Fifteen minutes into the program we were already 90 minutes behind schedule, but that’s NECON.
It was a bittersweet meeting, with recent losses and illnesses. Everything seemed fraught with emotion, but that was primarily because NECON is family, something that was reiterated over the weekend at just about every opportunity. Coming to this convention is like going to a family reunion. For many people, it’s probably better than going to a family reunion. There were a lot of voices breaking and tears shed this year. It’s that kind of a group and show.
After the autograph session, the party went on until the wee small hours, in the courtyard or the bar area or out front. A person could just drift from conversation to conversation to conversation. I had such a good time talking to Hank Wagner that I forgot to have anything to drink. Good times.
Saturday evening was the infamous game show (which set a record for brevity this year) and the roast (which did not). Before those started, though, the NECON Whores serenaded Papa Necon, Bob Booth, in their inimitable fashion. The NECON Whores started with Beth Massie and her sister many years ago. This year there must have been 20 or more in the chorale. Bob was beaming as each one in turn did something mildly lascivious to him. There was the ritual shaving of Rio Youers’ head (not a NECON tradition, but it could turn into one, I suppose). Linda Addison was the roast victim (after a clever bit of sleight of hand involving Jose Nieto). Then it was more conversation and saugies in the courtyard. I enjoyed chatting with guest of honor Kealan Patrick Burke, who I’d never met before to the best of my knowledge. There are always new friends to be made in addition to the old gang.
Sooner than expected, it was over. I had a 9:30 a.m. flight on Sunday, so I had to sneak off quite early. No one was stirring when I checked out and headed out to the parking lot. I had said most of my goodbyes the night before (a few hours earlier, in fact), but I know I’ll see almost everyone again, next July. I’m exhausted and scrambling to catch up, but I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.
