221B Con 2024: The Penultimate 221B Con?

I was a younger man when 221B Con started eleven years ago. That's my primary excuse for not keeping up with ongoing blog reporting as the weekend went on this time. Also, I'm not sure how I found the time in the past . . . or the wifi connection? In any case, my lack of ongoing reportage is not because there are things to report. And I did try, as you will see. 

So let us return now to Thursday of last week . . . 

Here’s the initial pro tip for attending 221B Con: Arrive on Thursday, if at all possible. Also, don’t spend the entire day driving, if you can help it. My sweet spot itinerary is to get the to eastern side of Nashville by Wednesday night, then make the scenic drive down through Chattanooga Thursday morning, lost that hour in the dreaded time zone crossing, stop at the Georgia Welcome Center, then get to the Atlanta Marriott Airport mid-afternoon before rush hour fills up the ring road.

After checking in and settling down, the hotel has a really nice area for watching the familiar faces roll in, and those initial hellos are one of the best parts of any Sherlockian weekend. Giving them a little extra time in never a bad idea.

Last year I made the mistake of becoming a dealer’s room dealer and didn’t get to bounce around the con like usual, but the one thing I did get in during 2023 was an early meeting of what was initially called “the Southern Waffleers.” That Waffle House based Sherlockian society has grown immensely since we dragged Paul Thomas Miller there last year for his and my first time at the classic southern eatery, where the waitress was more shocked that there was an American of a certain age who had never been there before than an Englishman. So when the Waffleers headed out at 8AM Friday morning, I was with them. And when we returned and found my friends from the John H. Watson Society had slept late and still needed an alert Waffle House driver, I decided a second Waffle House visit was needed.vAfter returning to the same table and freaking out the same waitress two of us had served only an hour before, I settled into the waffle I skipped during first breakfast. A second good time was had.

And then back to the hotel, yet again, where we ran into Marilynne McKay, one of the original fiver traditional Sherlockians who had been there at the first 221B Con eleven years ago. Getting the big table near the entrance, my fellow podcast bullpups from the John H. Watson Society and I recorded our weekly review of Sherlock & Co. with Marilynne as our guest. Soooo, podcasting taking precedence over blogging . . . another excuse from me for not getting this out sooner.

Late afternoon is registration time for the con, and the numbers of Diogenes Club (lifetime con attendees) in their registration line was longer than ever. This con has a very dedicated core following. A quick circle of the dealer’s room, which was still getting its tables filled when it opened at five, and I was off to the first set of panels, already in progress.

The room for “Adapting Sherlock Holmes” was full, so instead of creeping in to a corner there, I headed next door to the 25th Anniversary of The Phantom Menace, which a certain person had encouraged me to attend due to a bit of a debate we’ve had over that film. That room was so cold, however, that I went to my room to retrieve my sweatshirt, which turned out to be still in my car. When I eventually made it back to the con area, I ran into Rob Nunn which . . .

[SCREECHING HALT IN MY TYPING]

As I type this in the “221B Con Redux” panel reminscing about past cons, we just got the announcemnt that next year will be the last con. The BBC Sherlock surge that made a con of this size financially possible has faded, so I had started to wonder about such things. And while the news is sad, I’m sympathetic, and the fact they’re giving us one last year to go out with a last hurrah is definitely the way to go. 

I hate to jump in time, from Friday to Saturday, but the news and a break between panels sent me into retail therapy mode in the dealer’s room. (Operating on five hours of sleep, for reasons to be described later, and I’m a little more emotional than I would be on a full night’s sleep.) Some good artists that I haven’t seen before have some nice stuff, and while I’m not a Johnlock shipper, there’s a parody of the classic Sidney Paget train art of Holmes and Watson that has them bending forward for a kiss that’s totally delightful in both execution and rebelling against tradition. After years of admiring the wardrobe vendor’s wares, I went for a shirt and vest that were very reasonably priced. Conversations happen about the last-con news as I move through the dealer’s room, and even after I drop my purchases off in the room and hit the food truck outside, 

But let us now return to Friday eve. I had run into Rob Nunn just before he was sitting on his first panel -- on Sherlock and education, which I then attended. While I hadn’t signed up for an panels this year, the “Arthur ‘Continuity’ Doyle” panel had a panelist who couldn’t make it, so I was asked to sit in, having done it many years before. So 6:30 found me in the Georgia room, discussing all the little continuity issues, primarily about Watson -- wounds, wives, knowledge of Moriarty, all the raw materials Sherlockians have let their imaginations run wild on for over a hundred years.

The Victorian manners panel starts a bit later after than, and following that, I suspect I settled into conversation somewhere, as one does at 221B Con, and missed a panel or two after that. Some 11 PM pizza in the bar, more socialiizing, and eventually hitting the already full-force karaoke party at 1 AM. Rusty Mason used his influence with the DJ to get me a spot on the already full song list, and a couple of songs later, I wind up bellowing my go-to, “Flagpole Sitta.” And suddenly it’s two in the morning. A mere five hours sleep followed, as I had to be up for another Waffle House trip at eight.

By the end of Saturday, the “Southern Waffleers” were officially renamed the “221st Southumberland Waffleers” by the head waffle (or whatever position Steve Mason holds). Yes, it was my third Waffle House visit this trip in 24 hours. Does that make the Waffleers a cult? As I write this on Sunday morning, I’m actually wearing the paper WH hat from our most recent trip -- our waitress had actually run outside with a stack of hats for us as we posed for a photo by the roadside sign, which was handy when Ashley Polasek suddenly expressed the need for one during the later BSI scion society panel.

Back the con, the first panel of the morning for me was not “Mycrofts through the Ages,’ but "221B Con Redux," a panel about past con memories, where the announcement of next year’s final 221B Con came out. After that, I went to the dealer’s room to tell a few friends the news.

A lot of bouncing around between panels and the food truck followed. The Sherlock & Co. panel was one of the best panels of the con, with four enthusiastic panelists who introduced themselves as Coat, bullpup Maddie, bullpup Starlight, and Jones. (Hint: The editor of The Watsonian, two cohosts from The Watsonian Weekly, and artist 4thelneyj0nes, from my POV.) Jones turned out to be the artist whose work I'd already admired in the dealer's room, and finding out that some of the art I didn't recognize what his visual interpretation of the Sherlock & Co. audio characters, I had to go buy some more art.

At that point, I'm not sure what happened in the haze of con stuff, but I missed the Dynamics of a Podcast "From Baker Street to the Holodeck" panel. Some panels moved around on Saturday night, so things got a little more hazy as I write this two days later. There was a Sherlolly panel, a fan fiction workshop panel, Victorian soda fountain creations . . . and some other Sherlockian things I definitely missed.

Eventually it lead to hanging out in the bar, the Saturday night dance party and all of us dressing up in whatever we had on hand for "prom" photos that the official con photographer Christ has somewhere. We wound up in Mrs. Hudson's lounge at some point, for more chats with different folks, but I forced myself to end the evening at 1 AM this time to try to get a little more sleep (this weekend had a few necessary naps in it).

But since this is 221B Con, Sunday is still a day of programming, and after a nine-Sherlockian trip to Waffle House yet again, there was a queer interpretations of Canon panel, an "ASH, BSI, and Other Sherlockian Orgs" panel, one on Young Sherlock Holmes, a nap break, Ashley Polasek and Curtis Armstrong in full academic gear doing a "Skippable Canon" hour of entertainment, and finally the "Our Last Bow" panel at which our con hosts let the attendees ask questions and offer appreciations. With the news of next year being the final con, this eventually turned into a "How do we keep this going?" discussion, as diehard 221B Con Bees brainstormed, suggested, and wondered about how to keep next year's con from being the last.

Was it just working through the "bargaining" phase of the five stages of grief? Or will something catch fire and somehow keep 221B Con going? The next year will tell that tale. And just because something goes away, as we learned during Covid, it does not necessarily mean it won't come back in some form. The alchemy that created 221B Con might not be a recipe that works as well in 2025 as it did in 2015, and sometimes that's just life. BBC Sherlock gave us an energy that's worn off at this point, and one questions if CBS Watson will even be a small jolt -- CBS's Elementary never had the presence at con of its British counterpart, and media representations are a big part of 221B Con. But as we learned Sunday afternoon, it's easy to do sports-type analysis of what coaching can make the team have a successful season next year.

I think I'll leave it at that, because it's Monday and I now need to pack up my car to start driving home. Had a great time, as always, and wondering how long the infinity symbol "temporary" tattoo is going to be on the back of my left hand. More blogs to come . . .

The Full Spectrum Sherlockian

 We were discussing pastiches the other night, and it got me to thinking about all the different ways we celebrate Sherlock Holmes. And in considering it, I started to realize there's a bit of a spectrum to it all. And in delineating it out, it seemed to need a coding system to it, and I bet you can guess what the "R" and the "F" stand for. So here's my first draft:

• R4 - England. (This topic more favored by Americans who aren't living it every day.)
• R3 - The Victorian period in England, its history and culture.
• R2 - Conan Doyle's place in the Victorian period, his life and literature.
• R1 - Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, the history of their creation and publication.
• F1 - John H. Watson's Sherlock Holmes stories, the history of their creation and publication.
• F2 - Sherlock Holmes's place in the Victorian period, his Canonical life and career.
• F3 - The 221B Baker Street period, the non-Canonical history of Canonical people, places, and things.
• F4 - Any world with Sherlock Holmes in it.

Me, I tend to stay in the "F" end of the pool, where we splash around and play. The "R" side of the pool is where the swim team plays by the rules of their swimming and diving sports. Some ambitious swimmers can do both sides of the pool, of course, being disciplined and staying in the swim lanes for certain events, then coming back to enjoy the water slides and lazy rivers, but that's not to say that the "F" side of the pool doesn't have people working just as hard at their fun as anyone on the "R" side.

Worn that metaphor out yet? I think so.

Anyway, the thing that has kept Sherlockiana alive all these years isn't just that people love that Sherlock Holmes. You can only read the original sixty stories so much, no matter how much of a purist you are. At some point you have to go outside the Canon proper and find something else to do, some other trails to follow. Could be studying Conan Doyle, could be writing your own stories, but they emanate from the same place: that love of Sherlock Holmes that takes you beyond level one, be it in the direction of "R" or "F." 

And here's the other thing -- there's so much Sherlock Holmes out there at this point that there are Sherlockians who didn't start their journey at "R1" or "F1." If you came to Holmes from Robert Downey Jr.'s Holmes, for example, you might have started at F4 and worked back to F1, maybe even continuing the journey to R2 or R3. It's very common to wander around that spectrum in search of a comfy place to settle. And I can already see the problem with a linear view of the spectrum. Where do the people that love to study the history of Sherlockian fandom find a spot on there? How about Holmes film historians? 

Suddenly it seems there has to be an "R2A" or "F4B" for Christopher Morley or CBS's Elementary. Some things just can't be put in a box, no matter how hard you try, kind of like the reason the DSM has had five editions since its inception in the 1950s. (Not to say that Sherlockiana is a mental disorder -- I'll leave that diagnosis to some of our friendly experts in that field.) We don't need to classify our fellow Sherlockians.

But the exercise of pondering a spectrum of Sherlock Holmes fandom is good for reminding yourself of all the varieties of folks and fun we have within this hobby of ours, and taking a panoramic view of just how lovely it is when you step back and look.

The Valley of Fear-ly Odd Nudity

 Another Holmes discussion group eve at the North Peoria library, and always some new treat from an old story from one of our regulars. Tonight Dale pointed out the oddest part of phrases regarding how the victim was dressed:

"He was clad only in a pink dressing gown . . ." is a plain enough phrase. The dead guy only had on a pink dressing gown, right? But then you finish the sentence, and find " . . . which covered his night clothes."

Don't night clothes count as clothes? But it doesn't stop there!

"There were carpet slippers on his bare feet." How could his feet be bare if he had slippers on?

And in both cases: Why does Watson seem to want his corpse to be naked so badly? It's almost as if he is giving us hints to the answers to this mystery. The dead man came wearing different clothes and got shot in the face. Then somebody stripped him down, so he was naked at one point, at which point one of the men who stripped him down also got naked. Is there a secret Sidney Paget drawing somewhere where the naked dead man is laying there while the naked live man starts to dress the dead one in his clothes?

Or of the naked live man putting the naked dead man's clothes into the moat before scampering off naked to find more clothes?

Should we even let children read The Valley of Fear with all this shocking implied nudity!?!

And John Douglas went immediately into the hidey-hole of his after the clothes-switch, and Watson never states he was wearing anything but a wedding ring when he comes out, so are we to then surmise that the entire final scene of the mystery has a naked man in the middle of it?

Watson's narration is quick to leave that scene and move on to the flashback part of the novel, possibly so he doesn't have to describe John Douglas finally getting dressed again.

There were a lot of other comments about The Valley of Fear tonight, and the fact that Allan Pinkerton seems to have thought about suing Conan Doyle for turning a private conversation into a novel really fascinates me. But the true surprise was finding out just what the naked truth of this novel was.

It's practically the Poor Things of its day!

Crimes Against Sherlockiana

 Communities.

Gotta love ‘em. Just spent a very lovely weekend in the heart of one of our little "family reunions" as some have called a good Sherlockian weekend. One of my favorite moments even occurred after it was all over and done, when everybody just decided to have their departure breakfast, not in the hotel's free breakfast lounge, but at the local Waffle House. Waffle House restaurants are not that big, but there were fifteen of us, taking up all the booths and seats in the main seating area. Old friends, new friends, and a great spirit of community.

There's a lot of love in Sherlockiana. But at the same time as I was enjoying this weekend's festivities, another friend was going through the opposite side of the coin. Because Sherlockians may be the best people in the world, a fact we will state easily after a good weekend like the one I just had in Dayton, but we also have our assholes and we also have our tempers. We discuss Sherlock Holmes, not politics or religion for the most part, which is our lovely common ground. And most of us have the good sense to steer away from politics or religion when those come up. Texans and Californians can sit down at a Sherlockian dinner table and get along just fine.

But occasionally, one of us will get all fired up with righteous anger at some matter or the other that has nothing to do with the Sherlockian world (or within it) and cause a hard break with another Sherlockian. This has happened twice in the last six months with different folks that I know of, and it's something that happens in communities. Fighting, when it doesn't get physical, isn't necessarily a crime. And being an asshole in itself isn't a crime. But when we get put in a situation where we have to start deciding who our better friend of two Sherlockians is . . . it almost starts to feel like crime and punishment, because oftimes, somebody is going to get ostracized from part of the community, or exile themselves rather than put up with a certain person. Either way, we lose.

As a Sherlockian who has behaved badly upon occasion (and still can blunder into that realm on occasion), but still considers himself a sweet and lovable soul, I really hate to see when this stuff happens to other people. Nobody wins, even if one of the parties gets a whole "God is on my side!" self-righteous thing going and won't let go of it. (Been there, done that.) Because once you start @#$%ing with people's friends, they may not come at you directly, but you can start getting quietly left off guest lists and other such things.

I'm seriously thinking about dropping a person off a certain list I manage right now, for going after one of my friends. And I hate that. It's been done to me, and I don't want to be that person. Nobody wants to be a gatekeeper, even if that gate is only for one individual. (But, goddammit, you don't go after people's friends.) We should all know better, or at least learn that at some point. And we might be at a point where someone needs to learn to do better, because no matter how right you think you are, when you do damage in our Sherlockian community, more people are gonna feel it than you realize. And you might just rob us of some talent we really enjoy, which is definitely a crime.

Sherlockiana is a great community, as we know. Communities as a whole, are a key part of the human experience. But living in a community does not come without some work and some responsibility. We have to actively work on being our better selves, forgiving a few moments of bad choices now and then, and taking serious care when deciding that someone needs to be excommunicated from our personal version of that Sherlockian community. While nobody has the power to completely banish someone from Sherlockiana, even with a full cancellation campaign, a lot of folks will decide to leave due to one asshole treating them badly, or one incident where they got triggered to behave a little badly themselves. 

We miss those people. Our numbers are not so large that we don't notice new gaps. And we're always glad to see a familiar Sherlockian face turn up at a gathering just like a surprise "221B" sticker on a bumper in a parking lot, or a bunch of folks at a Waffle House.

So be careful out there. 

Holmes, Doyle, & Friends: Nine

Outside of the BSI weekend in New York, I don’t think any. place has hosted many Sherlockian weekends as Dayton, Ohio. Decades and decades of weekends, organized by different generations of hosts and hostesses, have brought Sherlockians to Ohio for both scholarship and fun in about any way you can imagine.

My day began very early, as I wanted to join the latest gathering of the Southern Waffleers

After an hour or so of dealer’s table browsing and socializing, David Harnois began the program with “Setting Up Camp: How I Build A Scene.” Using the classic tent joke for his example, David showed us the layers of building an audio scene in Audacity. I learned a few things for my podcast work, which may or may not be a good thing, depending upon your view of the proliferation of podcasting at this point.

Kira Settingsgard came up next, starting with a disclaimer that her talk titled “We Love Sherlock ... but Would Sherlock Love Us?” would not involve diagnosing anyone in the Canon or not. Would Shelrock Holmes come to Sherlockian events? What were his attachments based on? What were his attachment styles? We soon learn it’s “dismissive or avoidant” . . . and suddenly I’m feeling very called out as we get into what that means. Her analysis of Holmes’s friends is fascinating and shows us just how real Sherlock Holmes was as a character.

I like a talk where I get details of the Canon I had never thought about before, and Kira’s point that both Watson and Victor Trevor bonded with Holmes at a time when they had a dog is very interesting.

A break follows, and time to dash around and see what the other vendors have to offer, which is tricky when you have a dealer’s table to man, which I did this year.

After the break, Texas Sherlockian Tim Kline starts his talk singing, and quickly gets into talking about games and Sherlock Holmes’s appearances in them. Did you know the very first Clue game had Sherlock Holmes’s name on the box? Yes, Doyle’s kids didn’t like that very much and made Parker Brothers take it off. There are more games with Sherlock Holmes on them than you ever imagined, and Tim rolls through more weird and wacky bits about Holmes and games than I can easily mention here. Another great talk -- the variety this year is far-ranging and enjoyable so far.

Madeline Quinones follows time with a history of Sherlockian podcasts -- can you believe we’ve had enough podcasts and time with them passed to have history? Starting with “I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere,” the grandpappy of Sherlockian podcasts” (which is a weird thing for me to say for such young show), Madeline walks us through more podcasts than any of us knew existed, and makes me realize that these weekends are going to be more and more a source of learning just all that exists.

That brings us to lunch, and I have to say -- Madeline did a good job of holding my interest and winding up before hunger started distracting me!

After a quick sandwich lunch, more dealing and shopping in the dealer’s room, David Harnois and Mike McSwiggin portrayed Holmes and Watson in a little “playlet” reminiscent of a certain Abbot and Costello routine. A recent Dayton staple, Ira Matetsky, educates and entertains us on Liberty magazine and its time running later Sherlock Holmes stories. A memorable key fact toward Doyle’s motivations for his last run of stories for Liberty -- adjusted for time and inflation, etc., Ira estimates Conan Doyle was making about $85,000 per story.

Ira winds up answering questions and gets in a good ad lib about not getting a spirit connection from Doyle in the next world, which leads well into longtime BSI George Skornickel speaking on Conan Doyle spiritualism.

A break celebrates Bob Sharman’s birthday, which happened to be today, with a cake with his face on it. My particular dealer’s table went into “going out of business” mode, slashing prices to nil, which tends to move some merch. And then it was time for Max Magee to explain to us one path to becoming a Sherlockian. Where do we fit on his Sherlockian version of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs? He then illustrates what each step entails, complete with hats. Was Max’s talk so enjoyable for us because he was talking about us? I would not say that was NOT the case.

After Max has explained the levels of Sherlockiana to us, it is only fitting that the last speaker of the day is a top level Sherlockian like Burt Wolder. In lieu of a slide show, Burt gave us all a souvenir card reproducing Conan Doyle’s 1929 drawing “The Old Horse.” Burt’s talk then goes through the various boxes loading the wagon of Doyle’s life in his drawing with well-thought expertise. It’s a novel way to look at Conan Doyle’s time. He brings it back to our own lives in the end. And with that, the program begins to wind to a close.

On to happy hour and banquet time!

Dayton 2024 - The Friday Night Festivities

 The "Holmes, Doyle, & Friends" symposium in Dayton, Ohio each spring is an annual event, and as with any regularly occurring event, traditions will be born and traditions will continue. With Dayton, there are the official parts, like the Friday night reception held by the Agra Treasurers, and the unofficial parts, like certain dining habits or . . . for the third year in a row, some karaoke.

I'm going to limit things to first names here to protect the innocent, even though you might know a few of these folks. I'm a big fan of karaoke for people who don't usually sing. Bars full of good singers are kind of obnoxious, but a bar full of normal folk challenging their limits can just be a good time. And Sherlockians like a good time.

The biggest problem with Sherlockians singing karaoke, I think, is that not enough popular songs have been written about Sherlock Holmes or used in Holmes films. We don't want to hurt ourselves doing "Stayin' Alive" just because Moriarty used it as his ringtone. 

So "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner" starts the evening by our Sherlockian champion of karaoke, Ira. Me, I've the courage of a shameless fool, so I'll attempt "Shake It Off" and lower the bar for all that comes after. David, Madeline, Steve, Regina, Ira again, me again . . . and many an abstaining individual, especially those who want to have a voice to do their presentation the next day. 

But there is one song that tradition (and Ira) requires we do on these evenings, and I think this time around we started a new tradition: Ending the evening with that one song, and getting as many people as we can to sing it. That song?

Gerry Rafferty's "Baker Street." It's actually not too had to sing, even if you start singing "DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO DOOOOOO!" along with the saxophone riffs. Monica, Max, Ira, and myself joined for the finale this time, and I hope we get more on Saturday night, as we head back in for another round.

For now, though, it's time to sleep before tomorrow 7 AM Waffle House run . . . another growing tradition, thanks to a certain Texan. 

More to come!

Sherlockiana, the Lower Bar, and Those Two Initials

 One of the great things about Sherlockiana, or any fandom, that you never hear mentioned is the low bar for talent. I don't want to insult anyone here, but let's be honest.

We love Sherlock Holmes and all things Sherlock Holmes. We want to create journals, newsletters, websites, anthologies, events, etc., etc. in honor of that love. And we need content for those things. If you've ever been an editor of anything but one of the top prestige journals, and you're not a complete ogre, you have, at some point, accepted something you might not have taken just to give someone a chance to see their name in print. And that's a good thing.

We all have to start somewhere. And we all need to practice what we do and build our skills. So that acceptance of beginners' work is a good thing. Many a skilled writer or speaker of today got their start in a fandom. I would hesitate to call myself "skilled" at this point, but everything little thing I know about writing, I learned from practicing on the Holmes field in little newsletters and journals. If you do something enough, chances are you're going to get somewhat better.

Enter that cursed non-human thing we call "Artificial Intelligence."

It's not our friend, whose feelings we don't want to hurt. It's not an original artist whose skills we want to encourage by giving it a pass when it can't draw hands or plainly steals from better artists. It's software to provide an easy tool for performing a task that was previously done by humans, that will be exploited by those who don't have talent and don't want to learn actual skills.

Our fannish enthusiasm is going to draw a lot of Sherlockians to AI, and already has. If you love Sherlock Holmes, you want more Sherlock Holmes, and if a machine will churn out more Sherlock Holmes for free, an ardent fan is going to use that machine. And an ardent fan is probably going to be willing to overlook a few flaws in the final product, just as we've done for years with human-produced work. But when we did that in the past, we were always inviting another human into our community by accepting their work.

Do we want to invite ChatGPT into our community? Do we want to see it at events, have dinner with it, enter its name on our club rosters and get excited if it gets a BSI shilling some future January?

No. No, we don't.

So we probably shouldn't lower the bar for AI just because we want more content and want to encourage it to do more work. That space that it fills in a journal could be filled by someone who may eventually become a dear friend, rather than a collection of bits and bites . . . who, admittedly, is trying to become people's chatbot friend in many a venue. You might even be able to sit alone in a restaurant with your device and have dinner with that software pretense of a human, but you aren't going to invite other people to join you and that thing are you?

So maybe we want to hesitate in welcoming this new non-human writer/artist/"friend" to our Sherlockian ranks in any form for a bit. We'll talk when Mr. Data shows up and pretends to be Sherlock Holmes. But for now?

Let's force that stupid thing to try a little harder.