. . . muttered the ogre

Thursday: met not one but two bloggers who had been kind enough to link to me, Charlie Stross and Anita Rowland; as well as Sarah Lawrence without the famous burqa. Chatted with Karen Anderson about this and that. John Hertz, as he always does, urged me to return to APA-L. Gotta get a printer hooked up . . . . (I’d urge him to do a blog, if it weren’t hopeless; he turns up his nose even at e-mail.)

Friday morning: met my first two sex-partners. One gave no sign of recognition, which may be just as well. (And is she saying the same of me?) The other double-took and cried “God in Heaven!”.
Also saw several ChUSFA alums; and friends’ children of whose existence I had not known.

Friday evening, a thrill out of the blue: Janis Ian, whose songs have been a delight and a comfort for my entire adult life, spoke to me! I’ll treasure her words always: “Did you see which way they went?”
(There seems to be a pattern. Richard Feynman spoke to me once, half my life ago, to ask where his son was. What demigod will ask me a similar question in 2023?)

Saturday, I paused to admire some fan’s hat, because it was just like mine except for the color. He was Dean Gahlon; we had met in Minneapa.
We were waiting for the computer folklore panel, in which I got to tell about my one role as a film actor. In ~1970 somebody made a movie for use in schools, whose gist apparently was “there’s a computer terminal in your future.” I got a ten-dollar bill for playing one scene as a boy who wanders into a room where there’s a PLATO IV terminal, is fascinated, and starts poking buttons. I never saw this flick, but over the years met two or three kids who recognized me from it. (Then I grew a beard.)

Dunno what I’ll do tonight. Party-hunting last night was too stressful; but there’s not much alternative, short of a long ride home on public transport.