MicroConFurence #0 (Posting for a friend)
est...@warwick.ac.uk
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- UK MicroConFurence #0. 1st & 2nd Feb 1992 -
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- - - - P E R S O N A L R E P O R T - - - -
The UK MicroConFurence #0 took place over the weekend 1st/2nd Feb 1992 in an
out-of-the-way village in darkest Surrey. Somehow the host, Ian Curtis,
managed to waylay Kris Kreuzman, Edd Vic, Jim Groat, Monika Livingstone,Fred
Patten and (according to Fenthe) Jeff Ferris, as they returned from an
unsuccessful French Con called Angloueme.
I took the 2350 (dep) overnight coach into London 0605 (arr), and hung about
Victoria station for breakfast with this guy who turned out to be a yoga
teacher. Chatted with him, moved on to Christianity and became hopelessly
confused. I'm trying to be net.ethical in RL, and that don't mix. Pah.
I missed the 0755 coach to Yately because I had asked about the wrong
timetable, but I arrived at the house by 10. Kris Kreutzman (Yarf Art editor)
wasn't up, Rob Deighton (UK furry) was still in his sleeping bag making the
whole room a bit squirrely. And Ian Curtis, the host, was on the phone. I
popped upstairs to wash to avoid smelly furry syndrome, put on my new
Warwick - Lutra Sapiens Tshirt and sat down ostensibly to read some comics
(Red Shetland, etc), but really to wait for Kris to see if he had antannae
poking from his head and a 'Famous Person! AIEE!' badge when he wandered
downstairs, or whether he'd just be human like everyone else.
Another UK furry, Dan ('Fenthe'), turned up with his artist friend Paul. They
sat and read comics/Yarf!s and chatted too. (Dan unpacked his video). People
actually bought stuff too (Mostly Equine/Barbarian & Red Shetland, but also
a few badges (buttons)). Ironically, although I brought much of the cash and
ended up cashing cheques, I actually bought nothing.
Guy called Jim Groat turned up. I'd heard of him vaguely. He draws this Red
Shetland comic which is quite popular. Fairly pleasant guy, plenty of
anecdotes although he looked like he could do with a big dose of caffine.
He looked at us reading his comics in a hopeful/worried way. Angloueme, the
French convention had /not/ gone well for folks, and they had lots of stuff
still unsold.
I think Edd Vic had turned up by now (Fenthe says before Jim. This is where
chronology starts breaking down and undergoing reconstruction) Shortish, and
he kept claiming that he wasn't very important. I have been told since not to
believe him on that point, so I wo'n't. I think he was Edd, anyway, so I'll
call him that for the moment until I can think of anything better. Nice chap,
kind of quiet. Anyone who buys chocolate covered animal shaped biscuits has
to have some level of sanity lurking about.
Then Kris came downstairs. Complete with flashy-electronic badge. (a line LED
display with shifters driving each half) and three toy foxes which he
proceeded to juggle. I can't juggle toy foxes very well, but I can insert a
quadrupedal fox's head into a glove-puppet fox and produce both a fox'taur
and exclaimations of disgust from several vulgar-minded :) furries at once.
I dismantled the fox'taur.
A corollary of my poor juggling was that Edd's Kentucky Fried Chicken lunch
was joined by what almost became a Kentucky Fried fox. No one made jokes
about a fox in with the chickens, but I suppose that would have been too
obvious.
Well we sat, chatted, started drawing (including my first ottaur/ot'taur),
more juggling, breaking Kris' badge. Then a quick visit to the shops for
most people for snacks. I decided to have a pub dinner later, so I didn't
go, but stayed behind with Kris and found out a little of the problems of
running a 'zine in case I manage to get mine ('Tmesis') off the ground some
day. (And finally managed to extract an explicit art rejection from him.)
Later on, Monika Livingstone and Fred Patten turned up from the hotel,
(Fenthe claims Jeff Ferris too). Now, it was freezing fog outside, and
Monika in particular was almost a nice shade of blue.
More chatting, much admiring artwork, foising paper under noses for opinions
thereof, and (for me) realising that these 'Names' had standard (friendly,
albeit talented) people attached. Then 'Porsupah' (name ommitted 'cos he's
weird like that) rolled in from Wales with his Archimedes (A wholly UK
machine, not IBM compatible or anything, but frogging nifty).
Ed left for the bus back to London, and a little later the rest of the
complement set out for the pub. In, explained Moussaka ('Lasagne with
courgettes instead of pasta') and casseroulet ('Baby casserole'), ordered.
Sat and chatted more. In particular Jim about military hardware, and Monika's
table about less mundane things. After people had mostly eaten it was winter
sporting horror stories (tobogganning over chain-link fences, landing on
frozen-over ponds, ramps which took people over ski-lodges, the man who
collided with a tree whose skis produced the cartoon type tracks, people
being flipped about having landed on fir-trees.) and then furrydom, people
to avoid, much about a certain annoying furry artist, and thence onto the
general (and specific) moral level of furfen. I became a little uncomfortable
and distressed at this point so I left, but it was only about 20 minutes
until closing time.
Back at the house it was more of the same and watching Creature Comforts
by Aardman Animations until about 1-2am when Monika and Fred left for the
hotel. The UK furries were also given a chance to draw a panel of the
Rowrbrazzle comicstrip report. I didn't realise quite where it would end up,
so I drew a 'Robert' (one of Kris's characters) as a token US furry. (I would
have drawn myself ('Warwick') in too had I known.)
We got to sleep about 3-4am, in armchairs, on the floor, I woke at 7am
(without the aid of an alarm clock!) but I dozed and then tried to draw
a Red Shetland to show Jim. (He wasn't impressed. Neither was I though.)
Leaving involved hanging about, attempted airplane alterations, my managing
to volunteer to carry a sack of comics to a rendez-vous in London. (And more
funny anecdotes from Jim)
The London meeting was only notable because someone called Dwight (who I'm
told writes a comic called Rhudiprrt) was half an hour late due to our bus
system, and I was running a fever in refrigeration temperatures. I growled
at him a bit, but he was almost as annoyed as me. (Too cold even to amuse
myself drawing.) Then the coach back to Manchester was unbooked so I had to
wait to see if I could get on (after still more hanging about).
Arrived home .... eight o'clock.
Points of note: If you're strapped for cash in a English pub, you /can/ order
tap water. They'll usually give you a half pint, but you can ask for a pint
of water and they'll oblige. Even give you ice in it. They'll particularly
not mind if you're ordering food at the same time. Do not try this in a
Scottish Pub unless you really want to.
Never offer to carry a sack of comics halfway across London, unless you know
exactly where you're going and are wearing thermal underwear and gloves.
Monika likes chocolate ice cream. This is useful for bribery purposes.
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- Apologies for any offence herein. This is not historically accurate. -
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Hope this proved interesting. Feel free to warn me and drop in if you're passing.
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| Warwick < dog...@uk.ac.manp.cs.sa > / Tim Baverstock\n 71 Atwood Road\n
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