The Geek's Meow

The story as I remember it:

I’m in my later years of Junior High, and have just grabbed a new book from the school library, as I am inclined to do every few days.  I am a well known figure there, and have a special connection with our Librarian.  The school library is obviously somewhat restricted in their material, but my parents have never put any restrictions on what kind of books I can read, so long as I am reading (and I do, constantly), which means adult sci-fi is not an unfamiliar territory to me.  Aside from that, my personal finds at yard sales have turned me on to a mystery series that all start with ‘The Cat Who…’, where a pair of Siamese cats solve crimes and puzzles.  Written for adults, but very accessible to a young cat loving girl.

Back to the library; On the shelf, in the sci-fi/fantasy novels, is ‘The Cat Who Walks Through Walls’ – being a small school library I don’t find it unusual as I don’t think we really even have a mystery section.  So I snag it and get on my way home, reading all the time in the car.

First and foremost, this is not the Siamese cats I know and love, not by a long shot!  Those of you familiar with Robert Heinlein will know the book and are already laughing at me.  But it’s good, a little confusing I will admit, yet I am glued to the pages.  At home I have finished up my homework and am curled up in a recliner in the living room, nose in the book, across the way from my dad who is watching TV news, a pretty standard set up in the evenings.  Mom has run to the grocery store to grab some items for dinner, and life is the absolute picture of normalcy. And then ‘Normal’ chooses to exit the room completely.

Out of the blue, “What are you reading?” Dad asks.  This is really not something he ever seems interested in, but I’m always happy to talk about my books.

“Um, ‘The Cat Who Walks Through Walls’ – I thought it was a ‘Cat Who’ book but it’s not.” I answer and go back to my pages, while a minute ticks by in silence.

Without another word he gets up and leaves.

In most stories, this is the part where Dad goes out for a bottle of milk and never returns or something, right?  Just to ruin the suspense a little, this is not that kind of story.  Mom comes home from the store and asks where Dad went.  All I can do is shrug, this is not in my paradigm and I have no explanation.  It never even occurs to me that the answer to my question is what drove him from the house.  Mom, not knowing what else to do, goes on with dinner preparation, and I go back to my book, mundane TV new continuing to blare in the background.

When Dad returns a half hour later, it’s with a B. Dalton bag in hand.  For you kittens out there who don’t remember, before there was Amazon we had actual book stores (in my area is was Walden Books and B. Dalton) where we got our reading material.  Bag gets dropped in my lap and Dad returns to his couch-throne for more news absorption. Inside is a blue covered novel, ‘Stranger in a Strange Land’.  When I repeat the title out loud Dad nods and adds “Robert Heinlein.”  As if that explains everything.  I do finally put together that it’s the same author I’m currently reading… it turns out I had discovered one of his favorite authors on utter accident, and discovered that my dad had been quite the reader back in the day!

As I made my way through ‘Cat’ and then ‘Stranger’ we started talking books, in great detail.  It kind of opened a door for us as I continued to explore the Future History timeline of Robert Heinlein, sharing tidbits, things we liked, and so on.  Then there were more authors, although no more random silent departures which was a relief.  We were good before, close and all, but this gave us some more things in common that really helped explain a lot of my Dad’s perspectives on Life, The Universe, And Everything.  (And yes, he did introduce me to Douglas Adams, too!)  Instead of silently watching Star Trek: The Next Generation side by side, we were able to make allusions and in jokes, comparisons and conversation that I would never have had before with him.

A shared love of Heinlein was, in fact, one of the things I shared with my first boyfriend in High School! Eventually, that path lead to the book that is now my favorite of all time, ‘The Moon is a Harsh Mistress’.  And it all started with a mistaken grab off the library shelf.

Hi there, I’m Colleen.  If you’re looking for this girl’s take on the worlds of geek, gaming, or general goofiness, you have found the right place.  If you took that left turn at Albuquerque and wound up here anyway, that’s okay – just take your shoes off and relax for a bit before you start back on your adventures.

A little bit of background…

Once upon a time, in the land of Long Beach, I grew up immersed in sci-fi and fantasy.  I was a voracious reader, a consistent dreamer, an occasional actor, totally a history buff, but above all else, a mental wanderer.  Went to the school of hard knocks for a few years out on my own, and discovered the wonder (and sometimes terror) that is the gaming industry for my career path.

This is intended as a place for me to write about current events, likes and dislikes, tell some past stories, and generally ramble at large.  So if you’re along for the ride, buckle your seat belt.  Or don’t, you know… safety third!

So, you might have guessed from my initials (C.A.T.) or from the name of this blog… I am indeed a cat person.  I like dogs well enough, for short periods of time before they go back to their dog things and I go back to my things, but I just don’t live a life where they are going to fit, and I don’t see that changing any time soon.  So dogs are good friends, but cats are a major part of my life.

This means that I recently attended CatConLA (www.catconla.com) which is, as it sounds, a convention about cats, for people who love cats, and for some very lucky cats a chance to get adopted, too!  That’s right, the spcaLA group found homes for 97 cats that weekend. Congrats to them! None with me, alas, our lease does not allow for a second kitty so my sweetheart Pixie stays an only cat.

Oh, as a side note, if you’re here for long I’m very sure you’re going to hear a lot about Pixie, she’s very important to me.  And she’s cute, lovable, and a bundle of trouble.

The convention was great, lots of samples to take home and things to see.  If I were more patient with lines I could have gotten cat eye make up done or visited with Julie Newmar.  Instead we stuck to browsing and shopping and keeping me away from the cat adoption area so I didn’t try to smuggle a new bundle of fur into the house.  There were great artists, fun crafts, and spectacular products for Pixie.

But there was one thing that didn’t go over so well with me.  When we stepped outside to the food trucks, to get lunch, all was well.  The wristbands we wore allowed us access to come and go as we pleased for the day, or should have.  As we wrapped up our meal, my compatriot in cat-crimes and I noticed a fuss at the door, and as we got closer we were denied entry back into The Reef, the facility hosting the convention.  A building security staff member was explaining to an increasingly angry gathering crowd, not for the first time, that the Fire Marshal had decided the facility was over capacity (the con had over-sold the passes) and that we could not re-enter the building.  This, by itself, is understandable.  Those who had not yet collected their wristbands for the day or weekend could wristbands for Sunday, no matter what day they paid for, around the front of the building.  Great!  Those of us that already had wristbands for Saturday-only could email the CatConLA ticket email address and request a refund.

This is where I play the record screech.

People with all-weekend wristbands that had already collected them earlier in the day were being let in willy nilly.  So there was room, if you had bought the more expensive package.  It was only those of us who could not come back the next day that were being denied half of our day at the convention we had paid for, which a “Maybe you can email them and they might consider a refund?” from building security, who did their jobs in passing the message along but had no say in the issue.  That’s right, CatCon refused to send an actual representative for the convention out to talk to us in any way.  They decided to throw the building staff to the tigers for this one, and declined to get their own paws dirty.  Due to the wonders of smartphones, I did email the provided address, right then and there, and then myself and my compatriot stepped away to consider our (very limited) options as we both had evening plans in the LA area and did not feel inclined to drive home just to drive back.

It was fortunate we were still in ear shot when the situation changed again, although over the time that we had spent we had seen several groups elect to leave as there was nothing they could do since CatCon refused to own the issue in any significant way up until that point.  The security staff was told they were, as people left the event, permitted to allow small groups of Saturday bands back in, 10 people or so at a time.  Being nearby, we were in the first group.

When the Fire Marshal says jump, events have to say how high, I am fully aware of that.  The con did not feel more crowded than, say, Anime Expos I have been at in the past, but perception is not always reality, and they had to follow the orders.  But to select out the group that could not make up that lost time in any way the next day and exclude them, while freely allowing the more expensive passes in despite the ability for them to return later if they were denied entry at that point, rankled.  Worse, the lack of willingness for the convention to own their decision in any way, that was indeed sad.

But I think the final nail in the convention’s coffin for me is that I never got a response to that email.  I had planned to let them know, on their message addressing my refund request, that I had gotten the rest of my con day in, and there was no need to do so, hooray for everyone!  (Especially the vendors who claimed my budget for the day, money I had not spent before lunch.) All I have gotten is echoing silence.  They still refuse to acknowledge me directly or my concerns.

I really enjoyed my time inside CatConLA, but I am going to have to think long and hard if this is the event group I want to continue to support.  They clearly have no desire to support me, after all.