(ur)(rum)ination

I recalled today a time when I was just a small boy and I was on a rare excursion with my father, a stolid and not at all frivolous man, not so atypical of his age and generation. An amusement park? A ball game? They are both equally unlikely, and I can't remember exactly where we had gone or why, but at one point I accompanied my father into a dank and dirty public men's room, leaving my mother and maybe my two-years-older sister outside or at the ladies'.

As we entered, my father said "Don't touch anything." It hadn't been all that long since the introduction of the polio vaccine, and public hygiene nearly fifty years ago wasn't what it is today, so maybe his admonition had merit, but however reasonable (or not) my father's fears of infection, it was an order.

As I stood at the urinal adjacent to the one my father was using, streaming away, I heard in my head my mother's voice and the words she said every time I came out of the bathroom: "Did you flush?" Apparently, this was another common anxiety of the time: that bodily wastes of any sort left to lie in a toilet would create a miasma of contagion, and all toilets must be flushed immediately upon use.

And so I was torn. I had received clear and unequivocal instructions from the stern and foreboding figure of my father, yet they clearly contradicted what was almost daily direction from the central character of my little life, my mother. What to do, what to do?

Inchoate reasoning gasped and spasmed as the frail machinery of my brain clanked laboriously in a vain attempt to reconcile the two directives. In the end, my nascent concern for the common weal won out, and as my stream became a trickle I tentatively reached out to depress the toggle on the urinal with the briefest touch of two fingertips.

Whack! A gentle cuff from my father brought me out of my reflection. "What did I tell you?"

"But... but..."

"Ach! I told you not to touch anything and you did."

"But... but..."

"Ach! Come on." And he turned and strode out of the fetid little room and back into the daylight, me following behind closely.

As I have thought back on that incident over the years, I realize that it might have been the first time I understood that life was going to be even more complicated than I had imagined, and that the right choice was not always going to be obvious, nor good intentions rewarded.

More geeky than girly?

I spent the shank of the day today at GeekGirlCom, which was held this weekend in the Seattle Center. The convention is run by a nonprofit whose goal is "promoting awareness of and celebrating the contribution and involvement of women in all aspects of the sciences, science fiction, comics, gaming and related Geek culture through conventions and events that emphasize both the historic and ongoing contribution and influence of women in this culture." So, while not a women-only con, it was certainly a woman-friendly con.

And a funny thing happens when you shift the perspective on traditionally or historically male-dominated events (such as geek culture cons) like this: the con winds up being everyone-friendly. The place really felt inclusive: male or female, single or coupled, with or with out kids, straight or gay, plainclothes or costumed - it seemed the world was there. I never got the feeling of there being an in-crowd and an out-group. Really, everyone was welcome; there was no sense of having to be a female person to be part of the event.

There was one thing excluded in all this inclusion: objectification of women. That's not to say there was no smexiness there: between steampunk, burlesque, and superheroes, there's ample opportunity for presentation of, shall we say, a sex-positive affect on the part of many attendees. But I never got the feeling that the women were on display: there were no "booth babes" hawking video games or whatnot, as if often the case at this sort of thing. Just a healthy sexuality on the part of some participants.

The programming was clearly designed with an emphasis on the the contributions and experiences of the XX side of the population. The presentations and panel sessions were all focused on women: women in geek jobs, women in geek arts, the stories of women from the past, the adventures of women in the present, and discussions of how to navigate these nerd worlds that still too often allow or promote bias and unfairness. If I had a daughter, I'd certainly be taking her to this every year.

Of course, I can only tell from the printed program schedule: I just went to game.

The D&D game I run and the Pathfinder game I play in have both been on somewhat of a hiatus for a few weeks, so I wanted to find a place to play a session and maybe recruit players to my own ranks. I am finding that the intersection of the sets of People Who Game and People I'd Want To Hang With Anyway is a pretty thin silver on the Venn diagram; I figured this might be a productive place to meet some folks who shared both my interests and my sensibilities. Unfortunately, the guy running Pathfinder didn't make an appearance today and the guy running D&D was doing a 4th edition encounter*, so there went that idea. I did manage to have some fun, anyway - I played a session of Talisman (sort of a board game version of D&D) and ran through a demo of Warmachine, a miniatures-based tabletop wargame.

As enjoyable as those encounters were, I did not succeed in my goal of finding players to supplement our core group, but I went home happy anyway. The good mood and community atmosphere of GeekGirlCon was infectious. And given that both days of this inaugural event sold out, I can look forward to attending next year as well.

Here are some shot of the con (highlighting its awesome Industrial Yellow official color scheme) with a totally appropriate soundtrack courtesy of Team Unicorn.




*The D&D world seems to be divided into those who welcome 4E and those who will not move past 3.5, except into the warm embrace of Pathfinder. You can probably tell where I stand.

Resetting the trip odometer

Well, I have been the subject of celebratory birthday action for a few days now, even though this isn't one of those typical milestone birthdays or anything else special. As trite as it is, the displays of affection and esteem associated with these little rituals can be quite moving, and I sincerely thank everyone who participated.

The attention drawn to this occasion has put me in a thoughtful mood and has got me considering.

That the clock keeps ticking is a cliche, but true nonetheless, and as I move relentlessly into the future (still without a jetpack, dammit), there are things that I want to make sure stay in frame, or get drawn into the shot, and maybe still some things that I want to remove from the picture altogether.

Some things under consideration:

Ukulele.
Curling.
NaNoWriMo.
Neckties.
Coffee.
Running.
Biking.
Comics.
D&D.
Blogging.
Facebook.

It's been a busy year since I moved from the teacherhood to a deanship. I think it might be time to forefront the mindfulness again.

This is just a tiny step.