BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I had originally planned to eschew the entire idea of writing anything about “9/11,” purely because the media has already overplayed it for more than one full week now. However, I simply couldn’t bring myself to be funny today.

Of course, there are those who think I’m never all that funny – such as the hostess at the restaurant where I ate lunch yesterday. But that’s okay. I usually don’t find those folks all that funny either.

Still… I went to bed last night, secure in the thought that I would arise this morning and type out one of the several humorous incidents that have occurred in my life recently. Some of which wouldn’t even need embellishing. But, as I said, I just couldn’t bring myself to be funny.

And so… Where was I?

At the moment of the first impact, I was most likely listening to Molly Ivins. I adored Molly. Still do, actually. While I didn’t always agree with her, the vast majority of the time we were on the same wavelength; and even when we weren’t I couldn’t help but respect her unabashed, no-nonsense, call-it-like-she-sees-it commentary. If I’d had a different pair of chromosomes, I would have wanted to grow up to be just like her (without the breast cancer, of course).

But back to the story…

On THE 9/11 I had two books out, number three in the can, and feverishly working on number four. Nothing resembling a living wage was rolling in off these novels by an unknown writer from Saint Louis, so I was still working my “day job” at the time – which was as an electronics tech. My specialty, much like that of EKay’s, was printers. Although, I also handled networks and the like.

And I digress, as usual.

I was on my way to work, cruising along with traffic down the long stretch of blacktop known as Laclede Station Road. Our offices were on Watson, situated across from a now defunct movie theater. As usual, I had NPR (KWMU) tuned in on my truck radio, and it just so happened that they were airing an editorial by Molly Ivins.

Starting my day with Molly… I just knew it was going to be a good one.

A few minutes later I pulled into the parking lot, switched off the engine, and climbed out of the truck. Apparently, just a split second before NPR began reporting on the first strike. I dug out my tool kit, and with coffee mug in hand, I wandered into our offices, still chuckling at Molly’s wit and blissfully unaware that anything so heinous was happening a half-continent away.

I could hear a radio playing somewhere near the back of the building. Our dispatcher, Sharon, met me as I came around the corner to head to my bench. She was wearing a startled expression that was a mix of confusion and disbelief. Without ceremony or salutation, she said, “Did you hear that an airplane ran into the World Trade Center?”

“When?” I asked.

“Just now. Like just a couple of minutes ago.”

“Wow?” I said. “Was it like a small plane, like a small Cessna or something?”

Obviously my mind just couldn’t fathom it being anything more than a light aircraft. After all, an airplane had hit the Empire State Building once upon a time. Granted, that was a B-25 and not a Cessna, but still…

“I don’t know,” she replied.

By now, the owner of the company was in his office and tuning in the small, thirteen-inch TV he had sitting in the corner. We were a little surprised that it actually picked up a signal, honestly, as it was hooked to a VCR and all he ever used it for was to lock himself in the office and watch porn, even though he thought we didn’t know that’s what he was doing. (Just being truthful)…

As the image faded in on the old tube, the entire staff stood around staring at the billowing smoke rolling from the tower. There were a few gasps, an “Oh My God” or two, and I remember saying aloud, “That wasn’t caused by a Cessna…”

A moment later, as we watched the live newsfeed, a glint of sunlight from metal flashed in the corner of the screen and before our eyes the second airliner struck.

There were yelps of disbelief, gasps that rendered a vacuum in the small office, and then silence from all of us. The only sound to be heard was that of the news streaming in from the TV.

An hour later I was across the river in Illinois, making a service call on a printer for another small company. I had been listening to the news as I drove, hearing now about the Pentagon, and Flight 93. All air traffic was being grounded until further notice. The towers had fallen. Our world had changed forever.

When I arrived at my destination, I climbed out of my truck and looked upward. Above me, a lone jetliner was lining up on approach to Lambert International to my west. It was the only plane in my piece of the sky as far as the eye could see. I watched as it disappeared on the horizon, then I turned in place, scanning the blue…

An eerie silence had fallen, and for the first time I could recall in my lifetime, the sky was standing still.

More to come…

Murv

This is sort of a RAQ – That being a Recently Asked Question as opposed to a Frequently Asked Question. Although, I will admit that for some odd reason said question was asked not only recently, but frequently as well, which sort of makes this a one night FRAQ, which I suppose opens up a whole different possibility…but, we won’t go there…

The question in question, that being the FRAQ of whence we now speak, goes something like: Why aren’t you ever on panels at Archon with Laurell K. Hamilton anymore?

I’d like to note, those who have asked the question are in a small minority, as you will see later in this entry…

For those of you who may not know what Archon is, it’s a rather large SF/Fantasy Convention located here in Saint Louis. I am usually there every year as a guest author, signing books and being a panelist on various topics. Laurell is there most years too, and in the past, since we have a crossover in readership, we have had a tendency to be scheduled on panels together.

Up until the past few years, that is… Which brings us back around to the FRAQ…

I’m not on panels with Laurell K. Hamilton anymore because when I fill out my presenter/panelist forms each year, under the NOTES / COMMENTS / SPECIAL  REQUESTS section I put in bold, italic, underlined, highlighted, and otherwise offset for maximum “viewage” – DO NOT SCHEDULE ME ON ANY PANELS WITH LAURELL K. HAMILTON.

Now… This answers the question as to why I don’t appear on panels with LKH any longer. However, I realize it begs a new and directly related question, that being: Why do I put such a thing on my presenter form?

Well, allow me to put the nix on any bizarre answer you may have concocted for yourself and others – Laurell and I are NOT enemies. I have absolutely nothing against her at all. She’s a perfectly lovely young lady, and we’ve had many a wonderful conversation at events throughout the years. To my knowledge she doesn’t have anything against me, either. I doubt that she thinks I’m a perfectly lovely young lady, but that’s a different story.

So, here’s the reason – Laurell’s Fans…

I’m sure that sounds like I am dissing folks who are also readers – or potential readers – of mine. Well, I’m not. I have nothing at all against Laurell’s fans either. It’s more the situation. Sort of a “I like ketchup, and I like ice cream, but I don’t like ketchup on my ice cream” thing.

You see, what happens is that any panel where Laurell appears fills up with rabid Anita Blake/Merrie Gentry fans. This is to be expected, and it’s a great thing – for Laurell. For the rest of the panelists, not so much. What ends up happening is that the “rabidest” of the rabid fans end up dominating the panel with their questions and comments. What that means is that no matter WHAT the panel is supposed to be about, how hard the moderator tries to control it, and no matter how hard Laurell herself tries to keep things on track, the rabid horde manages to focus every bit of attention on Laurell and her books. There have even been occasions when they will talk right over the top of other panelists who are trying to answer a question, because they are there to see Laurell, not the rest of us.

Again, this is great… For her. For the rest of us, not so much.

So, I had to make a decision… After twiddling my thumbs and sharing numerous “WTF Shrugs” with other panelists over the years, then LITERALLY overhearing attendees of several of these panels say things akin to, “I don’t know why they put those other people up there with Laurell. Who were they anyway?” I came to the conclusion that maybe we would all be better off if I “Just Said No.”

My time is much better served being on a panel where the attendees are actually interested in what I have to say, and might even remember my name and go buy a book or two – that I wrote, of course. And, Laurell’s fans don’t have me annoying them by expressing my opinion on the topic of the panel, when all they really want to know are things that are LKH-centric.

I get that. No hard feelings. I think my solution makes perfect sense.

And there you have it. Nothing insidious. Nothing horrible and terrible. Just a little common sense in the overwhelming madness of a SF/Fantasy con. Scary, eh?

More to come…

Murv