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Quiet on the Outside, Exploding on the Inside
Andy Porter, former publisher of SF Chronicle, gave us a number of drawings from his art file to use in Littlebrook. The issue we've just published includes a drawing by Linda Michaels. (We have one more in file.) I have no idea how to contact her, so hoped that someone on my Friends list does.
Linda contributed heavily to fanzines and showed extensively in convention art shows years ago. She was nominated in the Fan Hugo category in 1995 and perhaps other years as well. For all I know, she still shows in art shows in other parts of the country.
I tried Googling her, but all I got were references to the mid-90s Hugos and to some books she illustrated for Paul Ganley Press.
Note: I'm also posting this request in my Trufen.net journal. (That venue continues strong for news postings, but the journals seem to have died.)
It's been busy. Friend Nisi visited us last Friday to watch a DVD of Brother from Another Planet. Nisi, who has no television, let alone a DVD player, needed to refresh her memory prior to acting as host at a Science Fiction Museum showing on February 4. Considering the year it was made and the slimness of its budget, the film has held up well. Joe Morton is the best-known actor in it, playing the Brother, while John Sayles and David Straithern play the "hounds" who are trying to track him down.
Saturday saw us having breakfast with my mom (in the morning, of course - when do you have breakfast?). We spend the afternoon joining a crowd at Anna Vargo's house to continue the work of sorting her books before the estate sells them. The whole crowd met for dinner afterward at the Doong Kong Lau on Aurora. The range of Anna's interests continues to astound me.
We used Sunday to finish the writing, editing, and layout of Littlebrook. (It's at the copyshop now, and we should have copies at Vanguard this Saturday. If you're not local, or not likely to see us at a Vanguard or other social event, and want a copy, let me know.) Then we went to an organizational meeting for the next Seattle Potlatch at
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marykaykare's house. As usual, I thought I would hold off from taking a position, and also as usual, I wound up with a job. (Sometimes it takes much longer for the job to find me.) This time I'll be running the Dealers' Room. Monday I started jury duty with the hope that I would get passed over and could leave on Tuesday unscathed. The courthouse I was sent to was not the main one downtown, but the Regional Justice Center in Kent. (The bus trip from downtown takes an hour, including ten minutes on the freeway.) Monday I went uncalled until lunch, when my name was included with a group that was being excused for the day. Tuesday I sat reading until 11:30, when I was included in a group of 45 that was going to be interviewed by lawyers for a trial.
Darn. My boss was fairly laid back Monday morning but by Monday afternoon seemed to feel that chaos and crisis were swirling around him. I promised that if I were called for a trial that might be more than a few days, I would try to get out of it.
We experienced voir dire all Tuesday afternoon, and I raised my hand for a hardship exemption. The judge said he'd consider the hardship requests after voir dire concluded Wednesday. This morning, he realized he should do that first, and lo - I was not excused. Then I was selected to be on the jury, and testimony started this afternoon.
Fortunately for my office, the trial is not going to continue this week, so I will go to work tomorrow and Friday. I'll take the early Aqua Express passenger ferry from downtown, and I'll get to work at 7:00 am so I can catch up. I tremble a bit to see what's become of my desk - I called when I left the courthouse today to see if anyone had checked my email, and was told, "Yes, [blank] checked it but there were so many, she didn't read them." That's quality backup, that is.
The trial picks up where it left off on Monday, and the judge warned us it might go on to Friday, including deliberations. It looks interesting, but until it's over, I can say no more.
I dreamed last night that if I took a deep breath, I would slowly float into the air. I showed off this new ability to many friends, and told them that everyone probably could do it. In fact, I theorized, this could explain dreams of flying and falling - people were really floating up from their beds in their sleep, and then falling back again.
I attended my final Clarion West Board of Directors meeting, at least for a couple of years, on Saturday. (So far I've served for two years every decade or so.) The meeting included an abbreviated lesson in developing the "elevator speech," that quick summary of what a person or organization is all about that is used when, say, one is riding in an elevator, and the Klingon next to you asks, "So what is this Clarion West thing I've heard so much about?"
The chap teaching us, Bruce Bannock (if I recall correctly), said that normally he teaches a two-day workshop on the subject, so we were getting only a Taste of Elevator.
Among other exciting news, I found out that Donna Shirley cut back on her duties as Science Fiction Museum head because of illness, and that the J. Lloyd Eaton Conference on Science Fiction and Fantasy will be held at the SFM over the May 7 weekend, along with an induction ceremony for the Science Fiction Hall of Fame. (I don't expect it will be as lively as the inductions into the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame.)
We had dinner with
tamiam and others that evening at a Capital Hill Thai joint. She's added another year to the resume of her life. Unfortunately, it's being marked by the last days of her cat, Mr. Buddy.On Sunday, we got up relatively early, dressed nicely, ran out for breakfast and then to the Center for Urban Horticulture. They have pleasant gardens and a good conference center, which we used for Anna Vargo's memorial service. Suzle was one of the people organizing the memorial and setting up the food, etc. along with other Seattle fans and Anna's family. (As usual,
janeehawkins, holyoutlaw and kate_schaefer were among the hardest working.)Anna's brother Walter provided a wide selection of books for people to take as mementos; I was able to find a copy of Black Beauty to send to
serendipoz. (For myself, I took a collection of Kage Baker short stories.) There's a brief description of the proceedings by Victor Gonzalez at www.trufen.net. Victor's also posted PDF files of the "program book" - a color photo of Anna, a two-page piece by Kate Schaefer about Anna's life, and a poem - and the "memory book" - eight pages of memories by such folks as me, Suzle,
jonsinger, serendipoz, rolanni, kinzel and quite a few others.Jane acted as MC, with Kate leading off and telling funny stories about meeting Anna and spending time with her in the Garrett in Phoenix. Other friends, relatives, co-workers spoke. Anna's union is publishing a book on how to be a shop steward, and it's dedicated to her. I loved her cousin's story about taking the train weekly from DC to New York and having Anna give her directions to a different ethnic restaurant every week, where the two would meet for dinner before going to Anna's apartment.
Kate and I left before the event completely wound down so we could get to the Clarion West annual general meeting. I was surprised to see that there was a name tent for me at the front, but I meekly joined the board members. Erk, I said, we outnumber the audience! (A few more people filtered in during the meeting.) We elected the newest member, Susan Gossman, who is not only not a Clarion West grad or a writer, but she's not even an sf reader. (I think this will change.) But she's a money person, expert in banking, accounting and investment, and is the new treasurer.
The rest of the board surprised me by giving me a card and a gift certificate good at most independent book stores. (The card was one of those high-schoolish things - "I'll miss your random jokes," "It was fun sitting next to you in chemistry," etc.) I got out last night and used it to buy The Tipping Point and The Midnight Disease, both of which I've wanted for awhile.
I took that new ferry last Friday, and found it good. Bouncing along on the waves with spray splashing outside the window, comparing notes on movies with another passenger, I enjoyed the trip more than the average ferry ride. I'll start taking it on a regular basis in February after my current bus/ferry pass expires, and after I serve out my jury duty.
The rest of the week Suzle and I have spent evenings watching tv and planning various bits of this weekend. Thursday night we went over to Anna Vargo's house to do more planning, specifically for the memorial on Sunday. Anna's brother Walt decided that the perfect thing to give away as mementos will be books, which led to a sort of frenzy as people started sorting books into boxes. (We'd already had a big session of book sorting last Sunday, but there was so much more we could do - Anna had a huge assortment of books at home. We hear there are two storage units yet to be emptied and sorted, and a third unit already emptied into someone's basement.
kinzel and rolanni, many of those books are by you.)Tomorrow I have my last Clarion West board meeting to attend; I'm not standing for a second term, although I will continue to volunteer, including maintaining a database of volunteers. After the grueling four-hour meeting, Suzle and I will dine out with
tamiam for her birthday, along with several other friends.Sunday is the memorial, to be followed by the Clarion West General Meeting about thirty blocks away, followed by dinner of some sort with friends. After which there's nothing to do for weeks - except finish Littlebrook (the artwork finally arrived - thanks,
akirlu), do my jury duty, start building the Chrysler Building model, attend Corflu, etc. etc.
serendipoz kindly sent us a photo of ourselves today. We're at a round table set for a banquet, with Suzle in a typical pose and me standing. Next to me is Pam Wells and next to her a gent in a beard. We can't tell when it was taken, and would love to know. Might be the most recent Seattle Corflu, but I don't remember Pam being there - or Joyce, for that matter.I'm going to experiment with a new route to work tomorrow. A private company, Aqua Express is starting a passenger-only ferry service between downtown Seattle and Kingston. The trip should be an hour shorter than the one I take now; unfortunately, the afternoon schedule, from Kingston to Seattle, doesn't come close to fitting my work schedule. (for those who are ferry fans, check here for details.)
That's a Bob Dylan song from Blood on the Tracks. Back in the mid-70s, when the album came out, I was fascinated, and a bit in love, with one of my female friends. Whenever I heard that song (and since I played it frequently, as did everyone I knew, I heard it a lot), I thought of her. It mentioned red hair; it talked about other, bad, relationships; it conveyed a joy in the vibrant presence of the woman being addressed.
She died last night, shortly after midnight. Her illness, cancer, had been undetected until too late, so the battle against it was really a rearguard action. But Anna did fight it until she was able to say goodbye to her family and friends, long enough to see one more Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year.
Many people in her Seattle circle of friends, most of them from science fiction fandom, and her family, worked tirelessly to make Anna comfortable. Thank you, say all of us who were - are - also friends of Anna's.
I'm going to help, sooner or later, to clear out her remaining storage space and sort materials. It's going to bring home again Anna's many passions: old novelists, science fiction and mysteries, gardening. I'll inevitably discover things, along with everyone else, we didn't know about Anna's many interests. It'll make us all more lonesome than ever.
I'm going to miss her; I'm not the only one.
I spent an hour with Mom at her neighborhood Starbuck's, looking at miscellaneous papers for her (nothing special, just booklets and brochures about bank services, rules and regulations). "Yes, you can toss this. No, you should save this." I followed this with a quick haircut. Returned home and took down the holiday lights while Suzle packed the inside decorations. Then I wrote a quick review of The Citadel of Fear, by Francis Stevens, for my Trufen journal.
Suzle and I went off to lunch at Cranium's, during which we checked movie schedules (eventually giving up the idea for the day), and I complained that Entertainment Weekly uses entirely too many pages cogitating about potential Oscar nominees and winners. After lunch we went to Pottery Barn to look at table lamps; we found some Courtland lamps we really liked, and nearly bought them. We gave them up when we found they were rated for 60 watt bulbs maximum. That's nowhere nearly bright enough for us. So we came away, relieved that we hadn't wasted money or more time on them, with a set of glasses instead.
I stopped into The Landing, one of my favorite independent music stores, and picked up Smoosh's album. Like the song I heard on KEXP, the album is poppy and bright, but with a line of indie darkness running through it. Not bad for two youngsters.
This helps divert me from other things. Anna Vargo is still around, but is only awake about 10 minutes out of every four hours, and we're sure she'll be gone soon. (Yes, it's hard to use the word "die" about someone we've know so long, and who was always so vivid.) Suzle's been scouting locations for a memorial, it's that close. Somehow it seems cold-blooded to make such plans, and yet it makes sense to be ready. I think Anna has always been big on planning, herself.
I've also been thinking - and trying not to - about a friendship in crisis. At present it seems to be in a coma, but I think at some point it might be revivable. A gulf has grown between us; physical distance and infrequent communication started it, and a bad situation my friend got in has affected my trust. With more information I would probably be able to deal with my feelings - maybe even help the friend. But until this friend is able to tell me what's what, I'm too conflicted.
Well, that's pretty vague, but I'm not looking for advice here, and don't want to go into any detail. It's just something on my mind, along with Anna, the tsunami victims, our bizarre election, the stasis of my fanzine, Mary Kay's knee, and the birthdays I've neglected. (This means you,
pnh and dmw.)
Current music: She Like Electric, Smoosh.
Merry Christmas, as the Christians say. Happy holidays anyway. We've opened our gifts, mainly from each other. Suzle got me Dylan's Chronicles and a small CD/Radio stereo set to use at work. Very nice.
No more of my complaints about "Christmas" songs. I like to mumble about winter songs like "Let It Snow" that have been cruelly relegated to being holiday songs when they should be played all winter long. I like to point out that "River" by Joni Mitchell mentions Christmas in the first and last verse but is really another of her depressing songs about her failed relationships. But does anyone listen?
I'm enjoying the governor's race here in Washington because now the Republicans get to complain about a stolen election. Pretty amazing, don't you think? Dino Rossi was ahead by 261 votes after the first count; after the machine recount he was still ahead, but by only 42 votes. After the hand recount he was behind Christine Gregoire by 10 votes, and after some King County ballots, left out in error without being verified, were reviewed and added in, Gregoire was ahead by 130. This is a statistical dead heat, isn't it? The Republicans are going to challenge everything in court, as try to get some previously disqualified votes counted in.
I'm hoping for the following for the coming year: artists who promised us work for Littlebrook come through at last; Suzle wins TAFF and together we amuse British and European fans at the Worldcon, and keep the fund fresh and solvent; our friends who are unemployed or underemployed all find good jobs with benefits; our friends who are ill find new sources of health and strength; all the writers we know finish their story cycles/novels/epic poems and find publishers, and the artists paint their masterpieces.
We're off soon to join friends for dinner. Tonight we clean, in preparation for having a few friends stop by tomorrow. Sometime in there, we'll watch The Ladykillers (the Tom Hanks remake).
Suzle and I had a very nice day with my mother yesterday, the highlight of which was a luncheon at the Sheraton, followed by a tour of a display in their lobby.
Annually, a group of architectural firms in Seattle design and build a gingerbread village, always with a different theme. The display is a fundraiser, though I don't know if it benefits the same charity every year. (This year it was for a Juvenile Diabetes research foundation, and I find a certain irony in using sweets for this purpose.)
The theme was "Miracle on 34th Street," so none of the structures could be called "houses." Instead they represented the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, Rockefeller Center and several others. King "Santa" Kong topped the Empire State while biplanes and one paraglider circled him, and the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade marched by. (Read more at http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/f
As we drove about later, someone on the radio said that something had "almost tempted" him to an action, and I bristled into Mr. Language Person mode. Perhaps irrationally, I am always bothered by this construction. You can be weakly or strongly tempted, but "almost" tempted is the same as not tempted. It's below the threshold of temptation. I believe the right construction would be "tempted almost," as in, "I was tempted almost to throw a grammar book out the window." Tempted strongly, you see, to consider an action, but not strongly enough to carry through. Your milage, as they say, may vary.
We wasted yesterday evening in the usual way, watching a bad sf movie. In this case it wasn't on the SciFi channel (I taped Legends of Earthsea, so that distinction will wait) but on On Demand: The Day After Tomorrow. I don't agree that Dennis Quaid's climatologist couldn't have walked from Philadelphia to New York in those conditions, as I think it's clear he and his companion took days to do it. But I do agree he has about one character note to work with, and there wasn't any real need for him to make the journey.
It's great that Jake Gullenhaal (pardon the probable misspelling), playing his son, went out to find penicillin for his injured friend, and that in parallel with his father's journey, he took two friends, one of whom died. (If I followed the action correctly.) But it was bad that the film didn't even bother to follow this thread to show the friend recovering from her infection.
And the idea that the superfreeze would proceed across the city as though chasing Jake! Well.
Anyway, today's another day: baking, writing cards, doing some more gift-buying (for my sister and brother-in-law - if we find Dim Sum: 30 Flash Cards, I hope they think it's as amusing and useful as we do), doing more work on Littlebrook, helping Suzle answer
akirlu's TAFF candidate questions. I'll stop this soon and go do some of that.First, birthday wishes to
green_amber and very belated birthday wishes to nwl and rwl. I haven't posted in my journal here for weeks, because of a combination of pre-holiday blahs, myriad other chores, and a general malaise brought on by thinking about one friend's very serious illness and another's serious breach of trust. But I think I'm back.