In honor of Stephanie's Canadian citizenship (and as a tribute to my Canadian heritage), I wore my Hard Rock Cafe - Toronto t-shirt. I've had it for ten years now, and it's getting a bit worn. But it was actually clean and in my shirt drawer, and I thought perhaps seeing that someone else in the crowd had been to her hometown might settle her nerves. Stephanie says that she is actually quite a shy person.
Except that I quickly spilled large amounts of Chipotle chicken burrito juice all over it. We had been on the road less than an hour. I had even placed a napkin on my lap to preserve the integrity of the clothes. The stains eluded capture and settled in too high to be hidden by tucking the shirt into my jeans. I begged Brooke to find me a store - perhaps one of those Tide Stain Sticks would restore the shirt to presentable.
Then we got lost. Well. Not exactly lost. We just didn't follow the most direct, quick path to the Lexington Convention Center.
Brooke had written directions down, but then left them in her work bag at home. So we were going on her memory and without a map. We not-so-quickly discovered that I-75 has two Paris exits. After spending about 10 minutes exploring the first one and debating if we should proceed further south into Lexington and hope we could find someone who could help us, we finally got back on I-75.
Lo and behold, about ten miles later we found another Paris exit! This one was actually in the city, and everything matched the directions that Brooke remembered. We all celebrated our amazing senses of direction and that we would still get there on time.
Until we tried to park. Suddenly everything in Lexington was on the opposite side of the street with about 20 other vehicles in the way. We had to make two large loops after missing turns before finally being granted entrance to the convention lot.
Stephanie was going to be at a booth signing books two different times during the day and then speak at 4pm. We had hoped to get there at 3 so we could talk to her at the booth and still get good seats for her talk. (Brooke is a true-blue super-fan and has flagellated herself for a full year for not sitting in the front row when she went to last year's book tour!) Unfortunately, we arrived at 3:40 and readily agreed that our best bet was to go straight to the room where she was speaking.
This also meant we had no time to find an instant stain remover for my shirt. I resolved to hold my knitting bag across my body to cover the stain. But this would also cover the logo. Kimmie came to my rescue with a jacket. I tied it around my waist with the knot strategically placed over the stain.
We got good seats in the second row, which was fine for me. I got settled in, pulled out my sock, and began getting really comfortable. Ok, as comfortable as possible in tiny little plastic chairs.
Then the people who had been in the room for the 4pm session cleared out and Brooke whispered urgently, "Look! The front row on that side is open! Should we go?" Kimmie and I knew how badly Brooke wanted those seats and how manic knitters might get for those seats and how dangerous it might be to get into a confrontation with someone with pointy metal sticks, so up we stood. In the mad scramble I got tangled up in sock yarn and dropped my bag and my binder full of patterns. (I'm really quite amazed that Brooke, having known me for 12 years (boy do I feel old!) continues to associate with such a hopeless clutz.)
Finally seated in the front row and untangled, I look up. We are smack-dab in front of the table with the microphone. Look at this photo.
See that table? I could reach it easily with my feet.
We thoroughly enjoyed Stephanie's talk. It's hard to explain, and in fact, she advised us not to attempt it. But she is a knitting humorist. I know. It's like being a mechanic humorist. Only a very narrow slice of the population would understand how funny she really is. The funniest moments all came at the expense of the handful of men brave enough to attend. I'm not sure how many of them were husbands or boyfriends and how many of them were knitters themselves.
I think the best part of the whole experience for me came after the scheduled part of the day ended. Stephanie told those of us who were still hanging around that she was going to run up to her room for "Knitters without Borders" pins and then get a coffee at the shop downstairs if we wanted to meet her there. About 15 of us hung around, pulled some tables and chairs into a big circle, and chatted for about 2 more hours!
(Notice the strategically-placed jacket?)
I enjoyed this conversation so much. Here sat a wildly-diverse group of people having a lively discussion of knitting, yes (you've seen such interest in self-patterning sock yarn in your life!), but also politics, world cultures, area attractions, and the differences between those from the States (you can't say "Americans" because Canada and Mexico are also in North America -- and they will tell you so!) and Canadians.
For example, Stephanie told us that Canadians would not have moved the tables and chairs into a circle like we did. They are very... um... obedient? I'm not sure the word I want here. They do not change things unless they have permission.
I also learned how little we know about cultures and systems apart from our own. In Canada, they can call a new election at any time. If people begin to dislike their leaders, they can hold a vote of no confidence, and if the leaders don't get enough votes, the country holds a new national election. Stephanie said no Canadian president would last in office long enough to get the approval rating our president has now.
She also said that vast numbers of US servicemen are going AWOL and fleeing to Canada in protest of the war in Iraq. Canada has declared the war to be illegal, so they now have to figure out what to do with these people. Technically, they are refugees and probably should be granted political assylum.
I wonder why our media isn't reporting this? For all the complaints about how liberal and biased they are, they certainly still seem to be somewhat cowed by something to ignore this. Is it a fear of being seen as judging the armed forces or the servicemen who either flee or fight?
Anyway, it was a very enjoyable, intellectually-stimulating (yes, knitters are amazingly intelligent and astute people) trip and I look forward to the next one!
