Final Bouchercon thought: So, where's the depravity?

This is my second B'con, and compared to the big academic/literary cons of my youth it seemed incredibly tame (that median age thing coming into play, no doubt). I suspect this is true in part because Jack Getze was down for the count, and also because my own circumstances have changed: I'm happily married now with young kids, so I'm not really in the market for debauchery in the same way that I might have been. It's entirely possible that serious misbehavior was going on, but just not in my orbit: who knows what the big names might have been up to in their suites at the Westin? Still, it's not a real conference without at least a whiff of scandal--and at this one we weren't even supposed to shake hands (it's a flu thing, evidently).

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First, I'm sorry we never got back together after our meeting in the Continuous Discussion. I looked for you at the bar, but these are awfully fluid situations. We all should have just met in Beth Groundwater's room like we originally planed. (Until she heard about it, anyway.)

I think it's our age. The Bouchercon attendees are primarily middle aged, with some mileage on them. I know my idea of a mixed drink anymore is an Arnold Palmer. (Ice tea and lemonade.) I drank two beers all weekend; after a while the bartenders stopped charging me for them. Maybe they thought I was the Designated Driver for everyone; kind of a Bus Drivers drink free sort of thing.

I'm sorry, too. I looked for you off and on at various times Saturday evening, but it's hard to pick a face from that very fluid crowd, indeed--although I did keep having weird encounters with a couple of fellow Minotaurians all weekend.

Age, station, general lack of interest in getting in trouble at this late date. I found myself going to bed around 10:00 both nights, just like I do at home. God, I'm old...
This may explain how we missed each other. I learned last year that things don't really get going until 10 or later, so I chilled in my room for a while Saturday, napping, watching baseball, then I came down.

Next time we'll work it out better.
Jon, how do you stay up until 10:00?
I know, right? I have small kids--I'm completely programmed according to their internal clocks.
Neither my spouse nor I drink (we call her sister our 'designated drinker'). I was viewing this as a networking handicap, but perhaps it's not.

My spouse also came down with something while we were there, and she didn't shake hands. We're waiting to see if it's a cold or the dreaded flu.
I think people who spend a lot of time thinking about crime and about the consequences of crime tend to be rather responsible in their own lives.

You know, if it's debauchery you're after you should probably stick with poets - they usually don't give a damn about anybody but themselves so there's all kinds of drama and infidelity and debauchery.

(okay, I'm mostly kidding)
One does appreciate this about poets, yes. They like la vida loca, but it's more about half-hearted suicide attempts involving Grey Goose and Xanax. It's the lit-fic writers who do the coke/hookers thing in a memorable way, in my experience.
I ended up off-site two of the three evenings I was in town. On Saturday night I went to Lee Child's all-you-can-drink-for-freepalooza at the Slippery Noodle. But I don't think I saw anyone out and out drunk the whole time. I usually had a beer in my hand but I was a lot more interested in talking than drinking.
Was I invited to the all-you-can-drink-for-freepalooza at the Slippery Noodle? No, I was not. And you're talking to someone who frequently drinks and talks at the same time.
Apparently it's open to all, but I had never heard of it until Jack Bludis asked if I was going. Show your nametag, get in free, free drinks, etc. It was crowded but not 1500 people crowded, so I guess a lot of people didn't go.
So, where's the depravity?

I heard there wasn't going to be any. That's why I didn't come.


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