Extracurricular activity was arranged: touring downtown
Indianapolis via Pedal-Bar.
There are a few prerequisites, perhaps the most important of
which is libations. It is, after all a bar. However, it is not permitted to
take glass containers. The brewpub with which the pedal bar is affiliated
helpfully sells “bullets” – tall plastic containers that they are only too
happy to fill with micro-brew goodness for you.
That detail taken care of, the other thing needed is a
playlist of cool tunes to crank out of the bar’s loudspeakers. Fundamentally,
the whole exercise revolves around the joy of showing off and convincing
everyone you pass by that you are having the time of your life, as you pedal a
ginormous trolley down the street. The experience is actually pretty fun, so
there’s not much embellishment required.
Personally, I was pretty much drenched in sweat halfway through
our two-hour tour. It was something of a challenge to pedal hard enough to make
the next light, while chugging a beer out of a bullet, while hoarsely singing
along with an 80’s or 90’s party anthem, while trying not to wheeze. It was, to be clear, genuinely enjoyable. Also, there was a fair amount of
cheering from spectators we passed. Some of them may be convinced, as we once
were, to try this sometime. And so the great Wheel Of Life keeps turning.
***
I originally met the other Zulus when I was a late-stage
teenager and they were Jr. High students, when a friend of mine and I ran a
tournament at a local game convention in Colorado, where we all lived at the
time. The game was B-17, which is a solo game in which you try to successfully
pilot a B-17 bomber on a WWII bomber mission and return successfully. We set up
an event in which multiple players flew the same mission at the same time, as
if the whole group were an allied formation. We ran that tournament at local
conventions for a number of years, and made some friendships that endure to
this day.
So I was pretty jazzed when a couple of the gang said they
wanted to run a group B-17 mission. The game was set up in our Private Gaming
Paradise. A raft of storied names took their place on the flight line as the
bombers queued for takeoff: the Blind Slug, Zulu Dawn, Loads O’ Pun, and the Endorphin
Mama Jones were joined by thirteen others. We all thundered into the sky to
rain havoc upon the foe. About half the bomber group made it back. As for
myself, my plane caught a burst of FLAK and exploded shortly after I unloaded
my bombs over the target.
Good times…
***
Sunday at Con is always tinged with a sort of optimistic
melancholy. Nobody wants to talk about it, but everyone feels the shadow of the
conclusion of the convention approaching. Later in the evening, we will all congregate in one or two hotel rooms to fire up some last game sessions and generally hang out and relax together. During the day, there are some who still have some events
scheduled. For most, however, this is also the day to crawl the dealer's area.
It’s hard to
describe how huge the dealer area is at Gen Con. Suffice it to say that to
properly crawl the dealer area takes roughly three hours – and that’s if you’ve
already taken care of all the major purchases you had already planned on, and
aren’t taking time out for demos. In the dealer area there are wonders and delights to be
found, beside items of bewilderingly head-scratching improbability, and other
things that are just plain wrong. Here is a survey of some of the things that this
year’s crawl unearthed today.
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| Tablet cover, in leather |
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| One of a number of extremely nice hand-carved wooden dice cases. Rare earth magnets secure the lid in place |
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| Not just Firefly Yahtzee, but Collector's Edition firefly yahtzee... |
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| Corsets are all the rage, though generally on women. This guy asked to get laced into one. |
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| First time I've seen anyone as Pris. Therefore, picture. |
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| Nobody I showed this picture to thought this was a good idea |
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| Impulse purchase. This is so totally going on my Miata. |


























