Ah, 221B Con.
My first blog post from the first 221B Con was typed at midnight in the bathroom of my hotel room so as not to disturb the nearby sleeper. But I had to write it, despite the hour, because . . . well, 221B Con.
Now I find myself at what was thought to be the last of the con's run, joyously turned into a celebration that this annual event will occur next year, at one A.M. typing again. Because I love this con. Always have. Its bright, shiny, sparkly inclusiveness, its inability to let you be bored for long, if you ever get there, and its creative energy. Even though I am way older than most of the participants, and, admittedly, are not the perfect fit for everything that goes on here, it just feels like a community where I belong, one weekend a year.
Because sometimes things just get fun.
This Saturday night was the annual "prom," a dance party with prom photos, where people dress up (or not) in all sorts of ways. One Sherlockian wild man wore a Christmas-themed tropical shirt that just never found a good moment back home, and that was perhaps the tamest outfit there. You'll probably see pictures on social media, if you follow anyone who was here. I was in a last minute rush, so I raided my costume supplies: A ruffle from a Ben Franklin costume, an old Hot Topic goth shirt, pirate boot leggings from another costume, a vest I got from the con costume vendor last year, and a lined dark green cloak from a winter solstice event.
Wandering down to the bar, I found I was not the only gentleman in a cloak. Rudy Altergott was less pirate and fine urban gentleman, but when we went hoods up, it looked like some dark ritual was about to occur. Wonderful dresses and costumery of all sorts began to show up, and eventually, the DJ started playing something danceable, and a handful of us took to the dance floor. And I realized something.
Wearing a cloak to go dancing is the best thing ever.
Minimal motion is necessary to make a cape or cloak catch air and do its thing. And that means less physical exercise. And less physical exercise means . . . MORE DANCING!!
It seems like I was thinking just a few weeks ago that Sherlockiana needed more dancing. And like some magic genie was listening and owed me a wish, I got it. And there's nothing like a big dance party where you don't have to have a particular partner and everybody just goes for it. And we did.
There was no karaoke, but some songs got singing as well as dancing, and the whole dance floor singing at 221B Con sounds pretty darn good. And there were a lot of great surprises from the DJ. One song called "Marianna" was a fine tribute to Sherlock & Co.'s Mrs. Hudson. Fleetwood Mac's "The Chain" was something folks got into heavily. And "Down the Witch's Road" from MCU's Agatha All Along? Heck, I sing that at home and I was now wearing a cloak. The stars were aligning.
The party was still going as some of us started one by one drifting off to get some rest. But next year's con management was still up and going, as well as the younger members of our usual suspects. And now, after showering and blogging for twenty-five minutes, I think I might finally be able to sleep myself.
I love this con. Have I ever told you that?
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