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Large conventions don't interest me.
This is the weekend of DragonCon, a huge SF/fantasy convention in Atlanta, GA. Earlier this month, the annual World Science Fiction Convention -- Worldcon -- was held in Dublin, Ireland. I'm hearing reports from friends in fandom who are at these conventions and telling me what a great time they're having, and/or what I'm missing out on.
But here's the thing: Large conventions of any type -- science fiction conventions, comic cons, the Pennsic War, Mensa AGs, et al -- just don't interest me any more. Why?
First, they're too expensive for me to attend -- registration, travel, lodging, and meals all add up. Since my divorce in 2007, conventions have become a luxury I can no longer afford. I'm paying around $900/month for child support. That's more than what I'm currently paying for my mortgage (which includes escrowed property taxes). Even though my daughter turns 18 next year, and I will no longer be obligated to pay child support after that, I have a lot of home improvements I've been putting off because I haven't had the money to do them.
Second, large conventions aren't fun and enjoyable for me. Back in the 1990s and early 2000s, Marcon (in Columbus, OH) was fairly large -- about 3,000 attendees. There was something for everyone -- media fans, literature fans, gamers, anime fans, filkers, cosplayers, etc. But in the past several years, it has downsized. I'll look through the program book, decide what to go to, and run into crowds on the way there, or find the panel or event is standing-room-only. Or I'll just skip programming altogether and stay in my room because it's less crowded. I dislike crowds because they always seem to get in my way of getting from point A to point B. Or I happen to get in somebody else's way.
Third, while conventions are a great way to meet friends, they are not so great when it comes to maintaining those friendships, especially if the convention is dominated by programming. I'll pass people I know, and only have time to say hi before they're on their way to another panel. Or sometimes I'll say hello and they'll have no memory of me from previous years. (Yes, I"m aware of something called "face blindness" -- or to use its big-word name, prosopagnosia -- that some fans have.) But it hurts when I'm sitting on a couch in a hallway and people I know pass me by, so focused on where they're going that I'm not seen, or completely ignore me, as if I'm not there. And I'll walk away, thinking I've been snubbed. (This has happened to me, at a Friday night at OVFF in 1998 and in 2012.)
Fourth, I often think about the depth of the friendships I have with my fellow fen. I often ask myself, "Are convention friends real friends?" If I was to travel out of town, and contact a few convention friends I have in that town, would they be able and willing to meet with me? Or will they say they're not available to meet with me? Or if I'm going through a rough patch, can I call one of them and have a long and deep conversation?
And so, I end up staying home. While I may be unhappy with being home, I think I'd be even more unhappy if I'm all alone in a sea of people, feeling "peopled out", adrift, or just plan antsy or edgy.
But here's the thing: Large conventions of any type -- science fiction conventions, comic cons, the Pennsic War, Mensa AGs, et al -- just don't interest me any more. Why?
First, they're too expensive for me to attend -- registration, travel, lodging, and meals all add up. Since my divorce in 2007, conventions have become a luxury I can no longer afford. I'm paying around $900/month for child support. That's more than what I'm currently paying for my mortgage (which includes escrowed property taxes). Even though my daughter turns 18 next year, and I will no longer be obligated to pay child support after that, I have a lot of home improvements I've been putting off because I haven't had the money to do them.
Second, large conventions aren't fun and enjoyable for me. Back in the 1990s and early 2000s, Marcon (in Columbus, OH) was fairly large -- about 3,000 attendees. There was something for everyone -- media fans, literature fans, gamers, anime fans, filkers, cosplayers, etc. But in the past several years, it has downsized. I'll look through the program book, decide what to go to, and run into crowds on the way there, or find the panel or event is standing-room-only. Or I'll just skip programming altogether and stay in my room because it's less crowded. I dislike crowds because they always seem to get in my way of getting from point A to point B. Or I happen to get in somebody else's way.
Third, while conventions are a great way to meet friends, they are not so great when it comes to maintaining those friendships, especially if the convention is dominated by programming. I'll pass people I know, and only have time to say hi before they're on their way to another panel. Or sometimes I'll say hello and they'll have no memory of me from previous years. (Yes, I"m aware of something called "face blindness" -- or to use its big-word name, prosopagnosia -- that some fans have.) But it hurts when I'm sitting on a couch in a hallway and people I know pass me by, so focused on where they're going that I'm not seen, or completely ignore me, as if I'm not there. And I'll walk away, thinking I've been snubbed. (This has happened to me, at a Friday night at OVFF in 1998 and in 2012.)
Fourth, I often think about the depth of the friendships I have with my fellow fen. I often ask myself, "Are convention friends real friends?" If I was to travel out of town, and contact a few convention friends I have in that town, would they be able and willing to meet with me? Or will they say they're not available to meet with me? Or if I'm going through a rough patch, can I call one of them and have a long and deep conversation?
And so, I end up staying home. While I may be unhappy with being home, I think I'd be even more unhappy if I'm all alone in a sea of people, feeling "peopled out", adrift, or just plan antsy or edgy.