I sat in the lobby of the Hunt Valley Marriott the night before the convention, and drew this picture in my fancy Moleskine. The crowds hadn't come yet and there was only one person sitting in the lobby waiting for someone, and a hotel employee stationed at the doorway desk. This hotel is, by current standards, old and venerable. I have been going to events in it for more than 30 years. It has grown into a labyrinthine place where it is very easy to get lost. I also call it a "rabbit warren" and at one point during the weekend there was a baby rabbit stuck in an outdoor stairwell. The convention folk captured the cute critter and set it free in the lush lawns of the hotel grounds.
I may make fun of fans, but the truth is I am a true fan myself. I have a lot of the tribal mannerisms and preferences. After three decades of convention-going I consider these people family. The fannish community in the USA is aging and somewhat in decline. I would like to see the tribe persist. Some of them have children and are bringing them up in the faith. I am not as active in fandom as I used to be, but for me it's still home.