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For those of you who don’t keep up with the world of science fiction fandom, WorldCon – dun dun dun! – is this weekend. “Anticipation,” the 67th annual World Science Fiction Convention, is in Montreal, Canada Aug. 6-10.

Yours truly the rocket scientist isn’t going this year, but I’ve been to a few in the past. And believe me, if you’ve never been to a WorldCon, you’re missing something.

Like the costumes. We attended WorldCon in New Orleans in 1988. I was a payload flight controller for NASA shuttles at the time, as well as a volunteer teacher for the U.S. Space Camp in Huntsville, AL. And I had a blue flight jumpsuit, complete with patches of missions I’d worked, my name, etc. This was far enough back that Tang was still in existence, but had progressed from powder mix to pre-mixed juice box things. So I clambered into my jumpsuit, grabbed a Tang box on the way out the door, stabbed the little straw through the foil, and hopped in the elevator on my way to a panel.

Everybody in the elevator car stared at me. And stared. And stared.

Finally somebody piped up, “Are you a real astronaut?”

“Nope. But I train and schedule them.”

“Cool. Nice touch with the Tang, too.”

I hadn’t even thought about the Tang as a costume accessory. It was just a drink I liked.

Like the masquerade contests. At the WorldCon in Atlanta in 1986, the costume contest was held in a huge theatrical auditorium. Most of the costumes fade into the haze of memory by now, but there was one that will forever stand out.

The last entry had just left the stage when the rear double doors of the auditorium burst open and a… mob… of people in white coveralls, carrying buckets, mops, squirt bottles, squeegees, and other cleaning paraphernalia came sauntering down the aisles of the theater. The announcer boomed, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present…”

Suddenly every light in the theater cut off. In the dead blackness, every one of the “janitors” glowed brightly in the dark, as the announcer finished, “the Chernobyl Cleanup Crew!”

The audience roared with laughter. Needless to say, they won the Best Comedy Team award.

Like a dealers’ room the size of a warehouse. The first WorldCon I attended was in Atlanta, GA back in the 80’s. It covered something like half a dozen hotels and when we found the dealers’ room, my jaw hit the floor. I’m not sure what it was, but I had the impression it was an entire floor of an underground parking garage. It had new books, old books, first edition books, comic books, action figures, costumes, accessories, artwork, armor (chain, plate, and stormtrooper), ray guns, swords, daggers, knives, stuffed animals, toys, you name it. My husband and I instantly decided we hadn’t brought NEARLY enough cash! (Let alone credit cards!)

But what happened next led to one of my all time favorite convention memories. I love dinosaurs, and I love stuffed animals. (Okay, so I was in my twenties and married. Please turn away while you gag.) And I spotted an adorable gray plushie stegosaurus about two feet high and three or four feet long – and I was in love. I talked to my husband. I pleaded, I begged, I wheedled, I promised… stuff. His response was, “Let’s finish looping the dealers’ room and then we’ll go back.” That satisfied me, and I waited.

And bloody glad I did. We went back and bought Steggie, and I tucked him under my arm, marching as proudly as any six-year-old, down one of the aisles.

Whereupon enter my next simile: Like the star-studded, legendary guests.

For in the opposite direction came a gentleman named Ray Bradbury. One of the Grand Old Men of science fiction, one of the men whose works I’d cut my teeth on.

He was with his liaison (I presume) and they were chatting intensely, when Mr. Bradbury glanced up, spotted me, and held up a hand, cutting off the conversation in mid-word. He left his liaison and made a beeline for me. He introduced himself (LIKE HE NEEDED TO!), shook my hand, and struck up a conversation about my new “pet,” all the while stroking its head as if it were alive. He wanted to know where I’d gotten it and why; turns out he loved dinosaurs too!

For those of you who’ve been to any sort of science fiction convention you know there are room parties after the panels, in the evenings. So we dressed up Steggie in my husband’s tux bow tie (formalwear for the parties, you know – he had to be in some sort of costume too) and took him with us, introducing him as Mr. Bradbury’s “pal,” Steggie. Somewhere along the way somebody fixed Steggie up with two pairs of children’s roller skates and a leash, and Steggie happily trundled along behind me from party to party, an absolute hit.

It’s been awhile since I’ve had time to go to a WorldCon. But I have friends who go, and I keep up with events. From what I hear, they never fail to amaze and amuse. I can’t wait to be able to go to one again.

About Stephanie
Best-selling author Stephanie Osborn is a former payload flight controller, a veteran of over twenty years of working in the civilian space program, as well as various military space defense programs. Her current releases are Burnout: The mystery of Space Shuttle STS-281, and The Y Factor with Darrell Bain. Find out more about her at her website, http://www.stephanie-osborn.com.