Sg, you and I went down to the Dragon*Con parade this morning. It wasn’t the photographic bonanza I’d hoped, since you were scared to go near the assembly for a while. Even once we got into the crowd, you didn’t seem to be in a mood to tolerate my jumping around to get the pictures I wanted. It was still pretty fun, and you let me know when we were walking back to the train that you wanted to go back, which I take to mean that you had a good time too.
We started out with some breakfast at the coffee place down the street. Bran muffin and chocolate milk for you.
I was trying to re-create a camera-phone classic on the way to the train station, and you decided to add some dancing.
You get that trains come and go according to the cardinal directions (this is true at least on the portions of MARTA that we frequent) but you committed a major faux pas by asking if a train was going North when we were on the East/West line. I quickly changed the subject before things could get too awkward.
It took you half an hour to be comfortable with moving from the very periphery of the gathering to anywhere near the center. But you are right, I think, to be wary of people dressed as warrior elves.
So we just took pictures from where we sat.
You were first willing to go into the crowd to see this lady, but you declined to pose with her.
We ended up hanging out where they were forming up the parade.
I wonder how many perennial Dragoncon participants, when they first saw the new Battlestar Galactica cylons, were like “how the heck am I supposed to dress up as that?”
There was a periodic table group, which is pretty much the coolest.
Why would a Klingon ride a motorcycle?
Why would a Klingon not ride a motorcycle?
Then there’s the loneliest rebel, who clearly spent a lot of time converting a wheelchair into a speeder bike, and nobody seemed to care.