 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
Friday, OOOOOOOOOOOklahoma, where we wound up detouring through helllllll. . .
This entry is late, as you may have noticed, because I spent the weekend in Tulsa, Oklahoma for Conestoga. This was due entirely to the munificence of Julia, who was my sugar momma for the weekend and allowed me to come up and participate in the Great Traveling Sex in SF panel -- but more on that later. First, I needed to get up to Tulsa from Plano. There is a direct route, up Central Expressway (Highway 75) which combines with another highway in Oklahoma and actually winds up a couple of blocks away from the con hotel. However, this direct route goes through a number of towns, which means you abruptly have to drop down from 70 MPH to 35 MPH or enrich the town's coffers via the local speed traps. If you could stay at 70 MPH you could probably get to Tulsa in three and a half hours -- as it is, it's more like six hours. Since I don't really feel like shutting off the cruise control once I'm underway, I decided to take the alternate route, which is I-35 north to Oklahoma City, then I-44 east to Tulsa. This looks like an incredible detour on the map, and mileage-wise it is, but it also means you can get to Tulsa in about 4.5 - 5 hours. Let's see -- I can take the scenic route and get there in six hours, or accept the mileage and get there almost an hour and a half earlier. You can guess which choice sounded better.
All I know is that the blockade was still in place when I rolled through at 3:00 pm that afternoon. Still don't know what happened -- if anyone does, let me know, okay? Anyway, for reasons I still don't understand the state highway was now verboten to traffic, so we were detoured onto this teeny-tiny two-lane highway, one lane in each direction. And because the detoured traffic included hordes of 18-wheelers, we're creeping along at toddler speed. And because I drive a Corolla, which doesn't have the largest engine in the world, I can't really run the air conditioner at speeds like that without threatening to overheat the engine. So I sat there, inching along with my manual transmission, sun blazing into my eyes, all the windows open in a desperate attempt to catch a breeze, and reciting every single swearword that came to mind -- I do believe I started channeling obscenities from the Sumerian, I was so pissed.
After that, however, Julia made a special presentation. She had something for my birthday tomorrow, she said, a special present purchased by Kristine Smith and St. Dave of the Spatula during Westercon a few weeks ago. She produced a tissue-wrapped parcel, and I tore it open eagerly to reveal -- a black leather flogger, signed on the back in silver pen by Kris, Dave, Dave's wife Denise and Julia. I swear, you go to one Rubber Ball dressed as Tietania, Queen of the Bondage Fairies. . . But it is indeed a lovely flogger, and I thanked them all prettily for their thoughtfulness. The rest of the night, unsurprisingly, was a bit of an anticlimax -- we met various friends, hooked up with Judy, hit the one room party that was open, then gathered up Tom Hise (in the light blue shirt) and retreated to our room to partake of his excellent single malt and MiST the Spencer Tracy version of "Dr. Jeckll and Mr. Hyde." And with good reason -- my GOD, but that movie was incredibly racy for its time. I still don't know how they got the horse scene with Ingrid Bergman and the other female lead past the censors. Just go rent it -- you'll see what I mean. Tomorrow: panels, pool and fencing with Selina Rosen.
|
Of
course, things didn't work out quite that easily, because (say it
with me, brothers and sisters) Fate likes a laugh as much as anyone.
Which is why, about fifty miles or so past the border, traffic was
abruptly routed OFF I-35 and sent on a lovely two-hour detour
through scenic west Oklahoma. I later found out from Jeff Turner
that the roadblock had been set up that morning around 9:30 am,
when they were still funneling traffic onto the state highway that
ran parallel to I-35 -- when he'd gone through the area, there had
been rows of police cars blocking both arms of the highway and cops
with shotguns positioned in front of the cars.
Two
hours later, our little parade had finally managed to turn north
and east, returning to the highway (where there was no sign of the
blockade in the distance), and I blasted for Tulsa at all speed.
Finally made it to the hotel two hours later, registered for the
hotel room I'd be sharing with 
|
Welcome | Lewis
Carroll | Speculative Fiction | Cool Canadian Bands
|
