…is the name for the Harry Potter Educational Foundation’s 2009 conference in San Francisco. Thirteen years ago, I made the online acquaintance of somebody who turned out to be sort of a big deal in the world of Potter fandom – and tonight, the wife and I met her in person for the first time. And when she got pulled away from dinner by another crisis – apparently, running a convention like this is rather like herding cats made out of gasoline and flint – she said “you have to come to the ball.” So we did, for a bit anyway, and were treated to quite the spectacle, mostly of a lot of costumed people going nuts for music that I am pretty sure wasn’t even out when they were born. (I’m thinking specifically of Journey here…but it is San Francisco, you’ve got to play it).
And it occurred to me: this is all down to the Internet. Sure, there would be fans of stuff, and some of them might get in touch, but in my youth, the most you could probably hope for would be a book club down at the public library. (I’m thinking specifically here of the Doctor Who fan club that occasionally showed episodes brought over from the UK in a room at the East Lake public library, which I popped in on maybe three times in high school.) But plug in a router, fire up a laptop, and holy shit, you can bring in people from all over.
I also want to know what it is about me that makes me conversational catnip for lesbians named Michelle. It’s starting to get ridiculous.
Most of all, though, it’s gratifying to have finally made it to the Tonga Room, even if I had to walk up Nob Hill in a pair of Docs to get there. I will be going back, you can bet on that – but you can bet even more that it won’t be on foot. It’s also true what they say about Zombies – take two at most. Take three and you’re under the weather, take four and you’re under the host.*
* Redd Foxx gets a nickel. Which he probably had to turn around and hand to Dorothy Parker.