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Murphy's Law
Aug. 16th, 2006 09:29 am“If it can go wrong, it will go wrong.” Murphy was obviously a gremlin, and he’s been working overtime on me, especially where conventions are concerned.
First there was the business with Homeland Security/Immigration when Diane and I were heading out to Pittsburgh. Very briefly, my accent – not typically Irish, and with an overlay of New York – had them thinking I was some sort of illegal. (Nope, just married to a New Yorker for nearly 20 years.) And a smart-alec, too: there were various questions about Green Cards, where I lived, where I worked, and then one about “Have you ever been to court?” I however thought he asked “Have you ever been to Cork?” and the response, “No, only as far as Limerick” wasn’t quite what was expected... Still, it all got sorted out in the end.
Then there was the business with the infected horse-fly bite, which meant I didn’t get to MeCon.
And now there’s the business with DiscworldCon. Not to worry, we’ll be there, but the best-laid plans of mice, men and Morwoods have once again gone pear-shaped...
Last time I was Head of the Assassin’s Guild; this time I’m Head of the Lawyer’s Guild, and I decided it would be seriously cool to borrow real lawyer clothes from a friend who is the genuine article and is fairly close to my size; any variations are good for humorous effect. He’s going to be on holiday from Friday, and had arranged his affairs to do nothing but office stuff all this week, so wouldn’t be needing the robe, the wig, the pinstriped bags, the whole Rumpole of the Bailey rig. So far, so good.
Except that he’s just now off the phone after telling me that he has to make a court appearance on Thursday afternoon, and the “costume”, packed up and ready for a FedEx pickup (now cancelled) has been unpacked and made ready for Real Use. Murphy the gremlin strikes again, because it’s far too late to find an alternative.
The Head of the Ankh-Morpork Lawyer’s Guild, it seems, will be wearing civvies.
First there was the business with Homeland Security/Immigration when Diane and I were heading out to Pittsburgh. Very briefly, my accent – not typically Irish, and with an overlay of New York – had them thinking I was some sort of illegal. (Nope, just married to a New Yorker for nearly 20 years.) And a smart-alec, too: there were various questions about Green Cards, where I lived, where I worked, and then one about “Have you ever been to court?” I however thought he asked “Have you ever been to Cork?” and the response, “No, only as far as Limerick” wasn’t quite what was expected... Still, it all got sorted out in the end.
Then there was the business with the infected horse-fly bite, which meant I didn’t get to MeCon.
And now there’s the business with DiscworldCon. Not to worry, we’ll be there, but the best-laid plans of mice, men and Morwoods have once again gone pear-shaped...
Last time I was Head of the Assassin’s Guild; this time I’m Head of the Lawyer’s Guild, and I decided it would be seriously cool to borrow real lawyer clothes from a friend who is the genuine article and is fairly close to my size; any variations are good for humorous effect. He’s going to be on holiday from Friday, and had arranged his affairs to do nothing but office stuff all this week, so wouldn’t be needing the robe, the wig, the pinstriped bags, the whole Rumpole of the Bailey rig. So far, so good.
Except that he’s just now off the phone after telling me that he has to make a court appearance on Thursday afternoon, and the “costume”, packed up and ready for a FedEx pickup (now cancelled) has been unpacked and made ready for Real Use. Murphy the gremlin strikes again, because it’s far too late to find an alternative.
The Head of the Ankh-Morpork Lawyer’s Guild, it seems, will be wearing civvies.
