Dragon*Con, Day 1
Sep. 4th, 2010 09:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
filkertomNot happy with myself.
Oh, my concert went great last night. Hell of a good crowd, at least 150-200 (the sound people were keeping count, and it started off with 90 as Leslie Fish opened and just kept growing). Fairly basic set, honestly, but I think I was in pretty good form. Leslie sounded good, and after me the reunited Brob Bards kicked ass and took names.
And I had a pretty nice day over at the Marriott. Lots of friendly people, including one who'd seen me at Maker Faire Detroit. Superlative costumes, including one lovely young woman who was pretty much perfect as Morrigan from Dragon Age: Origins, several very good Jokers, two different costumes involving accomplished accordion playing (one was Weird Al in the 80s -- simply great), lots of Doctors (mostly Tennant, although a few earlier and one darn good Matt Smith), an interesting surplus of Super Mario characters, lots of steampunk, and an unbelievable Alien costume that could've walked right off the movie lot. (The same Alien was doing photo-ops in the Hyatt Thursday night, and I saw him/her/it hugging a five-year-oldish girl dressed as I Dream Of Jeannie.)
And everybody's been fantastic. I emphasize Rowan, Chip, Regina, Robert Dennis, and of course Robby Hilliard, Da Man his own bad self. Among the old friends I saw yesterday were Ira and Janie, Tom Reed, Matt Leger, Scott Merritt, Jean Prior, Yonnie, etc., etc., etc.
But.
As usual with Dragon*Con, there is one big problem: the elevators.
Let me be very specific: We're talking a thirty thousand plus people con. This by itself is more than bad enough, but a whole lot of the evening programming is at the Hyatt. Also there are a lot of room parties. And the con suite. Thousands of people at any time, trying to work their way up a twenty-two-story-plus-three-basements hotel.
A hotel which has five elevators in the main lobby tower, and three elevators in the other tower.
360 days a year, this isn't a problem, I'm sure. Can't be. But when Dragon comes to town, and suddenly everybody wants to get to where they're going and there are only a very few ways to get there, it gets a lot crazy very fast.
Not much better at the Marriott. And they have a lot more elevators.
The key part in this little story, of course, is that I'm riding a mobility cart this weekend, graciously provided by Scooteround and D*C, so that I don't kill myself getting from hotel to hotel. So that's no problem.
It's getting to the right levels within the hotels that's the problem.
I will not bore you with most of my adventures of the day. Suffice it to say, there was a lot of waiting. A lot.
It really got bad in the evening, of course, when the parties all started. And a whole lot of people, determined to par-tay, started going down to go up. Which means that the elevators come down, responding to calls from the third basement level -- where much of the programming is, including Baker, the main filk room -- but nobody gets off.
As the number of people, including people in wheelchairs or with walkers or mobility carts, increases.
There is one solution for this: Have people with the hotel -- possibly with the convention, but definitely with the hotel -- wait at the lobby and lowest level elevators. If you got on and went all the way down, why, you must have intended to go all the way down, right? All off. Hotel policy. Move it out.
That solution has been in place in past years. Not yet this year.
So I was waiting with a woman, slightly older than me, with a walker, and another woman with a mobility cart. She was rather verbally militant about our rights regarding the elevators. I was trying to be cool, but I was exhausted, and I hadn't really had dinner, and it was all getting to me.
We, and other, more mobile people, watched as elevator after elevator came down to the third basement and nobody got out. We were effectively trapped there.
Finally, Robby came by, and he tried to commandeer us an elevator and talk sense into the people on it. Didn't work, for the most part. Two people did get off, but one guy in particular refused loudly. Robby said it was con policy to let handicapped people on, which meant non-handicapped people had to get off. The guy actually said, "That's your policy, that's not my policy." He should've had his badge revoked right there.
And I said, "Sir? Just so you know? You're a dick."
Like I said, I was very tired. But it gets worse.
Another car came, and two people got off and then before anybody could move a young man on it reached across and hit the Close Door button. I called him a dick, too.
Yet another car came, and this one already had a person on a cart in it. Behind him, looking over him to look at us, one of the other people in that car actually said, "At some point, you just have to start taking the stairs."
And I said, "You're an asshole."
At that point, I realized I was not fit for human company, and I apologized to those near me. One of whom said, "Yeah, but [what the other guy said] was kind of an asshole thing to say."
Another car came, and we managed to get room for the two people who'd given up their space for our sakes. Which left us with our original problem: three people who needed an elevator, and a growing number of folks trying not to walk up X stupid flights of stairs.
Robby was trying to wrangle us some help. I decided to go to the Motor Lobby desk (ten feet away, right frickin there) to see if the hotel could help as well. I told the person there about the situation, then came around to get back to the elevators.
Where a Dramatic Scene was ensuing.
The first woman on the mobility cart had parked herself in the open door of an elevator, and was loudly declaiming she would not move until the people there got off so she and the woman with the walker and I could get on. The people in the car refused. The woman with the walker was reaching over the other woman into the car, and someone grabbed her wrist. Robby tried to break it up.
And suddenly I knew that none of this was worth it.
I would go outside the damn building by way of the motor pool in the dark if I had to, pushing the frickin cart up the ramp. I'd carry the woman with the walker up the escalator. But this was simply not worth it.
At which point, someone got my attention.
Yet another elevator had opened, and, with a bit of negotiation, they made room for me.
Like a coward, I took it and fled.
Got to the lobby, got to the International tower, waited and waited for the elevator again, finally got to my floor and my room. Called Robby to make sure he was all right. He'd broken up that scuffle, got hotel security (and apparently some huge guy who came down and made sure nobody had a problem got that sir?), and told con staff, and later forwarded me word that there is an express elevator that handicapped persons can use by calling the Hyatt front desk.
That will help. But Robby's also trying to get the con, and maybe the hotel, to basically run as gatekeepers, as they have done in times past, to let handicapped people have some priority.
At the very least, I don't want to leave the damn rented cart in a far part of the building, y'know? Kinda defeats the purpose.
But I was a jerk about it. Grade-A, first-class mouthing off asshole. And for that I am sorry. To the people I was mouthing off at, and to those around me who had to watch and hear me in action.
I knew Dragon*Con is a big, exhausting mother. I was even looking forward to it. But I have the suspicion that what I'm really looking forward to is Wednesday, when I can sleep in.
And how's your weekend beginning?
Oh, my concert went great last night. Hell of a good crowd, at least 150-200 (the sound people were keeping count, and it started off with 90 as Leslie Fish opened and just kept growing). Fairly basic set, honestly, but I think I was in pretty good form. Leslie sounded good, and after me the reunited Brob Bards kicked ass and took names.
And I had a pretty nice day over at the Marriott. Lots of friendly people, including one who'd seen me at Maker Faire Detroit. Superlative costumes, including one lovely young woman who was pretty much perfect as Morrigan from Dragon Age: Origins, several very good Jokers, two different costumes involving accomplished accordion playing (one was Weird Al in the 80s -- simply great), lots of Doctors (mostly Tennant, although a few earlier and one darn good Matt Smith), an interesting surplus of Super Mario characters, lots of steampunk, and an unbelievable Alien costume that could've walked right off the movie lot. (The same Alien was doing photo-ops in the Hyatt Thursday night, and I saw him/her/it hugging a five-year-oldish girl dressed as I Dream Of Jeannie.)
And everybody's been fantastic. I emphasize Rowan, Chip, Regina, Robert Dennis, and of course Robby Hilliard, Da Man his own bad self. Among the old friends I saw yesterday were Ira and Janie, Tom Reed, Matt Leger, Scott Merritt, Jean Prior, Yonnie, etc., etc., etc.
But.
As usual with Dragon*Con, there is one big problem: the elevators.
Let me be very specific: We're talking a thirty thousand plus people con. This by itself is more than bad enough, but a whole lot of the evening programming is at the Hyatt. Also there are a lot of room parties. And the con suite. Thousands of people at any time, trying to work their way up a twenty-two-story-plus-three-basements hotel.
A hotel which has five elevators in the main lobby tower, and three elevators in the other tower.
360 days a year, this isn't a problem, I'm sure. Can't be. But when Dragon comes to town, and suddenly everybody wants to get to where they're going and there are only a very few ways to get there, it gets a lot crazy very fast.
Not much better at the Marriott. And they have a lot more elevators.
The key part in this little story, of course, is that I'm riding a mobility cart this weekend, graciously provided by Scooteround and D*C, so that I don't kill myself getting from hotel to hotel. So that's no problem.
It's getting to the right levels within the hotels that's the problem.
I will not bore you with most of my adventures of the day. Suffice it to say, there was a lot of waiting. A lot.
It really got bad in the evening, of course, when the parties all started. And a whole lot of people, determined to par-tay, started going down to go up. Which means that the elevators come down, responding to calls from the third basement level -- where much of the programming is, including Baker, the main filk room -- but nobody gets off.
As the number of people, including people in wheelchairs or with walkers or mobility carts, increases.
There is one solution for this: Have people with the hotel -- possibly with the convention, but definitely with the hotel -- wait at the lobby and lowest level elevators. If you got on and went all the way down, why, you must have intended to go all the way down, right? All off. Hotel policy. Move it out.
That solution has been in place in past years. Not yet this year.
So I was waiting with a woman, slightly older than me, with a walker, and another woman with a mobility cart. She was rather verbally militant about our rights regarding the elevators. I was trying to be cool, but I was exhausted, and I hadn't really had dinner, and it was all getting to me.
We, and other, more mobile people, watched as elevator after elevator came down to the third basement and nobody got out. We were effectively trapped there.
Finally, Robby came by, and he tried to commandeer us an elevator and talk sense into the people on it. Didn't work, for the most part. Two people did get off, but one guy in particular refused loudly. Robby said it was con policy to let handicapped people on, which meant non-handicapped people had to get off. The guy actually said, "That's your policy, that's not my policy." He should've had his badge revoked right there.
And I said, "Sir? Just so you know? You're a dick."
Like I said, I was very tired. But it gets worse.
Another car came, and two people got off and then before anybody could move a young man on it reached across and hit the Close Door button. I called him a dick, too.
Yet another car came, and this one already had a person on a cart in it. Behind him, looking over him to look at us, one of the other people in that car actually said, "At some point, you just have to start taking the stairs."
And I said, "You're an asshole."
At that point, I realized I was not fit for human company, and I apologized to those near me. One of whom said, "Yeah, but [what the other guy said] was kind of an asshole thing to say."
Another car came, and we managed to get room for the two people who'd given up their space for our sakes. Which left us with our original problem: three people who needed an elevator, and a growing number of folks trying not to walk up X stupid flights of stairs.
Robby was trying to wrangle us some help. I decided to go to the Motor Lobby desk (ten feet away, right frickin there) to see if the hotel could help as well. I told the person there about the situation, then came around to get back to the elevators.
Where a Dramatic Scene was ensuing.
The first woman on the mobility cart had parked herself in the open door of an elevator, and was loudly declaiming she would not move until the people there got off so she and the woman with the walker and I could get on. The people in the car refused. The woman with the walker was reaching over the other woman into the car, and someone grabbed her wrist. Robby tried to break it up.
And suddenly I knew that none of this was worth it.
I would go outside the damn building by way of the motor pool in the dark if I had to, pushing the frickin cart up the ramp. I'd carry the woman with the walker up the escalator. But this was simply not worth it.
At which point, someone got my attention.
Yet another elevator had opened, and, with a bit of negotiation, they made room for me.
Like a coward, I took it and fled.
Got to the lobby, got to the International tower, waited and waited for the elevator again, finally got to my floor and my room. Called Robby to make sure he was all right. He'd broken up that scuffle, got hotel security (and apparently some huge guy who came down and made sure nobody had a problem got that sir?), and told con staff, and later forwarded me word that there is an express elevator that handicapped persons can use by calling the Hyatt front desk.
That will help. But Robby's also trying to get the con, and maybe the hotel, to basically run as gatekeepers, as they have done in times past, to let handicapped people have some priority.
At the very least, I don't want to leave the damn rented cart in a far part of the building, y'know? Kinda defeats the purpose.
But I was a jerk about it. Grade-A, first-class mouthing off asshole. And for that I am sorry. To the people I was mouthing off at, and to those around me who had to watch and hear me in action.
I knew Dragon*Con is a big, exhausting mother. I was even looking forward to it. But I have the suspicion that what I'm really looking forward to is Wednesday, when I can sleep in.
And how's your weekend beginning?
