Pining for the Fjords . . . er Gen Con actually

Y’know, last year, on the ride home from Gen Con, I stated that I didn’t need to go to Gen Con again. That I had done it, and with the milestone passed, I didn’t need to return.

Now I’m seeing all the tweets and all the pics coming out of Gen Con—David from the Podgecast has a fucking stripper pole in his hotel room—and I shrink a little.

What I loved about Gen Con was the meetings. Accidental Rob, Colin, and I met so many cool people, the gaming was incidental. In fact, except for the absolute fucking gaming high-point of the table with the Fist Full of Comics and Games crew, Rob and Colin, all the gaming was done among us three. And we didn’t do that much gaming. We talked gaming. We talked gaming like a motherfucker.

So, yeah, it’s not that I pine for Gen Con in particular, I pine for the parties and the conversations and the seminars and whatever in which one meets awesome folk.

Damn. Now I want to go to Gen Con.

Woe is me.

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