First things first: word has it that my public display of the vapors the other day has some of you worried for me. Do not fear! Yesterday I kicked off the morning with some stretches. Throughout the day I questioned whether certain pieces of furniture were friends or frenemies. Soon I found myself back in regular Gen Con fighting trim, such as it is.
Saturday presented me with a classic dramatic arc. Though thrilled by the crazy-busyness of the show so far, I found myself feeling a tad wistful for the old days when an occasional lull visited itself on the dealer’s hall. It used to be possible to pop around to other booths and catch up with colleagues. Or for that matter to patrol the aisles for the new cool game. Now the constant and delightful crush of people makes any expedition outside the booth requires the summoned fortitude of Miskatonic explorers prepping for an Antarctic foray. If you do make it to a booth the folks you hope to chat with are as slammed as you were before you snuck away from your own.
I feel a little guilty about my zero-item shout-out pile. But then with the rise of new social platforms and the communications efforts accompanying the crowdfunding surge, the need for word of mouth from me has decreased.
Just as I was thinking this, I bumped into one of the people I hoped to catch up with, and had a lovely walk-and-talk from the Marriott to the hall. Throughout the day a wave of serendipity either blessed me or told me to quit my damn whining, presenting me with the chance encounters I needed to alleviate the social deficit. The night ended with a flash mob of beer-hoisting colleagues at an undisclosed location. The old Gen Con was back, disguised amid the hustle and bustle of the new.
One day left. Time to make the most of it. After another bout of stretching, that is.