Con Report, Part the Second
Lumos in Las Vegas.
First, the Good.
Las Vegas is a fun place and *definitely* full of light and sound and people. A little too well filled, perhaps, and maybe more than perhaps a bit too over-stimulating and I really can't imagine living there, being from there, but people do so I imagine if I had to, I would, too. Also, friendly. The people are almost too friendly. The talk-to-you and tell-you-their-life-story kind of friendly. Which isn't terrible. And the hotel was nice. Not a theme hotel, but nice and certainly expensive enough (schmo-off-the-street price per night: 399.00) for all intents and purposes. Lumos room rate was $159. (We had a king bed and the room to ourselves.)
The butterbeer specialty drink was tasty.
The porn was excellent. Of course, that wasn't on the official program. That guy really does look like a young Snape. (Not a young Alan Rickman - a young SNAPE.)
And 'Thunder from Down Under' was delightful, but again, not on the official program. Such nice, clean-cut, healthy young men.
Second, the Bad.
The panels were difficult to choose from. Not because they were so good, but because they were so unappetizing. True, it's difficult to suit every taste, but at Nimbus and at Witching Hour, my husband and I had to really think about which panel would be better to attend not because there wasn't anything else to do, but because we wanted to do *more*.
The Philosophy panel was fun. Steve Vander Ark's were fun. Logospilgrim had a full house and brought everyone to tears, as is only right and proper. Beyond that... nothing really sticks out. The het vs slash was remarkably non-contentious (I confess I was hoping for more drama. Besides the two 'Harry' and 'Draco' boys and their would-be comedy team disrupting things in the first five minutes, you know. And yes, I do have to specify these were boys.). The canon panel was rather boring, even if I did get a shirt. Honestly, people. If you're revising your old stories every time JKR fills in new canon, STOP WRITING! Wait until the canon is closed and THEN write. Jeez. Every fanfic is an AU. Deal with it!
Basically, I should have hung out in the casino more. I'm pretty good at video blackjack and Mr. Lovestruck is awesome at slots.
Third, the Ugly.
The hotel food *sucked*. The service *sucked*. The prices *sucked*. (Except for the buffet, which was actually a little overwhelmingly diverse for $13 a plate.)
The Friday lunch (for which we paid $45 per person extra) was one serving of bread (no refills), shepherd's pie (with a strangely 'Close Encounters'-looking tower of mashed potatoes on the top), and butter. You know, for the bread. That was it. No dessert. No side dish. No second helping. For $45. The speakers included Steve Vander Ark, so that was cool, except we also got to hear him speak twice at his panels. You know, for free. $45 for shepherd's pie and a roll. And butter. To drink - water or lemonade - and we had to fetch it ourselves. $45. Is there a way I can get a refund?
See, at Nimbus, we paid for a special lunch because we got - surprise! surprise! shepherd's pie AND salad AND a soda AND table service AND a movie/ slideshow presentation by some chica working at ILM on the making of special effects in movies - such as Dobby. That lunch was totally worth the extra fee. Plus, you know, salad and soda and table service.
$45 for shepherd's pie, a roll, butter and get-your-own water.
And did I mention the terrible drinking water? It was unfiltered, unpurified, hard water straight from the tap. The tap water in the bathroom was better. And the drinking water got worse and worse as any ice melted. Yuck!
I didn't attend Saturday's lunch. Through a quirk of fate, Mr. Lovestruck got himself a ticket. He says lunch was a chicken crepe that was actually quite good.
I said the service sucked. By that, I mean the dining room ("Great Hall") service. At the Welcome Feast, we were not given enough time to eat our salads and plates were taken away from us as we were eating. Mr. Lovestruck complained on my behalf and was told, "We need to set up for the next course." In other words, 'my job is more important than your enjoyment of your food.' Mr. Lovestruck was taking a picture of the butter (it had the Marriott gryphon on it in bas-relief) and a waiter took it away from him as he was taking the picture. Refills on drinks were not readily forthcoming. The rather unfortunately named 'Padfoot' stew, while hot, was, conversely, NOT taken away when we were done. The empty bowls sat there, mocking us. Was this to make up for the salad we were unable to finish because the salad bowls had been removed so quickly? And last, and least, the cake. YUCK! Whoever said they could have eaten the whole thing has obviously never had a decent baked good in their life, poor thing.
I attended the 'so you want to host an HPEF event' panel not because I ever want to host an HPEF event, but because I'm increasingly involved in planning conventions here in Tampa (Vidcon and Necronomicon) and I'm always interested in learning different approaches, etc. At the Welcome Feast, much was made of the fact that "all the HPEF board members pay for their own registration." That claim was made more than once by Gwendolyn Grace in particular. It seemed to be used as shorthand for "we're here just like you, no special treatment - not us!", etc etc, as a preemptive strike against assertions that they're getting a free ride.
Funny thing is - they DO get free rides. Literally. Board members - as was revealed in the 'so you want to run an HPEF event' panel - get free airfare and one free night's stay in the hotel. Now, the hotel room is probably courtesy of the hotel itself. This kind of thing is standard for convention organizers and I don't have a problem with it. The organizer guarantees a certain occupancy, they get a night comped. But airfare? Airfare's easily the most expensive item in the budget! Airfare can cost several hundred dollars each! I'd much rather HPEF get free convention tickets than get free airfare, or at the least, discount membership to volunteers, as other conventions do.
And this is a convention, NOT a conference. Much was made of that, too. But conferences don't have dealer's rooms. They don't use fake names on badges. They don't encourage role-playing and dressing-up or show movies or a hundred other things that HPEF does.
Frankly, I'm seriously reconsidering going to Prophecy 2007. The only thing in its favor is it's in Toronto and I adore Toronto and I know 2 people in Toronto and did I mention Toronto?
I may add more later. Dinner's ready.
ETA: I forgot to mention the Leaving Feast. Or the breakfast(s). Well, they really only served one breakfast over two days, which probably explains running out of juice 15 minutes in the second day and those over-dry muffins. The leaving brunch at Nimbus was yummy. I remember something about waffles and going back for seconds. Heck - I remember the popcorn and sweets station for the movie showings. But at Lumos... not only were the rooms 'full' by 30 minutes in - and thus closed off to paying guests, but the staff started cleaning up at about the same time, too. Need I mention that breakfast was supposed to last 2 hours? (We got fruit, eggs, bacon, sausage, mashed potatoes, cereal, milk, bread. It was a buffet. There was water to drink and I think they were serving coffee and, apparently, weak tea.)
Oh - and the 'Minister for Magic' for Lumos (Debbie of the Tossed Hair and Careless Laugh) neglected to make the same announcements at each breakfast. Apparently, the silent auction ended at 10:45 instead of 11:00 as was posted or implied. It may not seem important to you, but to the woman who broke down into tears because she didn't get to place a final bid on the picture she desperately wanted because the auction ended earlier than she expected, it was serious business.
The Minister for Magic also apparently has (had? Do we get a new one now that the con is over?) communication issues. Every single complaint, every single foul-up, every. single. one. was due to her inability to communicate with the hotel, her staff, the con-goers. Shouldn't there be some kind of demonstration of qualifications to run a convention? You know, prove you can communicate effectively with others? Or is the only real necessity the ability to laugh the exact same way regardless of provocation?
(And can you tell that woman annoyed me? I'm sure she's a lovely person and under other circumstances we'd be the best of friends, but... yeah.)
First, the Good.
Las Vegas is a fun place and *definitely* full of light and sound and people. A little too well filled, perhaps, and maybe more than perhaps a bit too over-stimulating and I really can't imagine living there, being from there, but people do so I imagine if I had to, I would, too. Also, friendly. The people are almost too friendly. The talk-to-you and tell-you-their-life-story kind of friendly. Which isn't terrible. And the hotel was nice. Not a theme hotel, but nice and certainly expensive enough (schmo-off-the-street price per night: 399.00) for all intents and purposes. Lumos room rate was $159. (We had a king bed and the room to ourselves.)
The butterbeer specialty drink was tasty.
The porn was excellent. Of course, that wasn't on the official program. That guy really does look like a young Snape. (Not a young Alan Rickman - a young SNAPE.)
And 'Thunder from Down Under' was delightful, but again, not on the official program. Such nice, clean-cut, healthy young men.
Second, the Bad.
The panels were difficult to choose from. Not because they were so good, but because they were so unappetizing. True, it's difficult to suit every taste, but at Nimbus and at Witching Hour, my husband and I had to really think about which panel would be better to attend not because there wasn't anything else to do, but because we wanted to do *more*.
The Philosophy panel was fun. Steve Vander Ark's were fun. Logospilgrim had a full house and brought everyone to tears, as is only right and proper. Beyond that... nothing really sticks out. The het vs slash was remarkably non-contentious (I confess I was hoping for more drama. Besides the two 'Harry' and 'Draco' boys and their would-be comedy team disrupting things in the first five minutes, you know. And yes, I do have to specify these were boys.). The canon panel was rather boring, even if I did get a shirt. Honestly, people. If you're revising your old stories every time JKR fills in new canon, STOP WRITING! Wait until the canon is closed and THEN write. Jeez. Every fanfic is an AU. Deal with it!
Basically, I should have hung out in the casino more. I'm pretty good at video blackjack and Mr. Lovestruck is awesome at slots.
Third, the Ugly.
The hotel food *sucked*. The service *sucked*. The prices *sucked*. (Except for the buffet, which was actually a little overwhelmingly diverse for $13 a plate.)
The Friday lunch (for which we paid $45 per person extra) was one serving of bread (no refills), shepherd's pie (with a strangely 'Close Encounters'-looking tower of mashed potatoes on the top), and butter. You know, for the bread. That was it. No dessert. No side dish. No second helping. For $45. The speakers included Steve Vander Ark, so that was cool, except we also got to hear him speak twice at his panels. You know, for free. $45 for shepherd's pie and a roll. And butter. To drink - water or lemonade - and we had to fetch it ourselves. $45. Is there a way I can get a refund?
See, at Nimbus, we paid for a special lunch because we got - surprise! surprise! shepherd's pie AND salad AND a soda AND table service AND a movie/ slideshow presentation by some chica working at ILM on the making of special effects in movies - such as Dobby. That lunch was totally worth the extra fee. Plus, you know, salad and soda and table service.
$45 for shepherd's pie, a roll, butter and get-your-own water.
And did I mention the terrible drinking water? It was unfiltered, unpurified, hard water straight from the tap. The tap water in the bathroom was better. And the drinking water got worse and worse as any ice melted. Yuck!
I didn't attend Saturday's lunch. Through a quirk of fate, Mr. Lovestruck got himself a ticket. He says lunch was a chicken crepe that was actually quite good.
I said the service sucked. By that, I mean the dining room ("Great Hall") service. At the Welcome Feast, we were not given enough time to eat our salads and plates were taken away from us as we were eating. Mr. Lovestruck complained on my behalf and was told, "We need to set up for the next course." In other words, 'my job is more important than your enjoyment of your food.' Mr. Lovestruck was taking a picture of the butter (it had the Marriott gryphon on it in bas-relief) and a waiter took it away from him as he was taking the picture. Refills on drinks were not readily forthcoming. The rather unfortunately named 'Padfoot' stew, while hot, was, conversely, NOT taken away when we were done. The empty bowls sat there, mocking us. Was this to make up for the salad we were unable to finish because the salad bowls had been removed so quickly? And last, and least, the cake. YUCK! Whoever said they could have eaten the whole thing has obviously never had a decent baked good in their life, poor thing.
I attended the 'so you want to host an HPEF event' panel not because I ever want to host an HPEF event, but because I'm increasingly involved in planning conventions here in Tampa (Vidcon and Necronomicon) and I'm always interested in learning different approaches, etc. At the Welcome Feast, much was made of the fact that "all the HPEF board members pay for their own registration." That claim was made more than once by Gwendolyn Grace in particular. It seemed to be used as shorthand for "we're here just like you, no special treatment - not us!", etc etc, as a preemptive strike against assertions that they're getting a free ride.
Funny thing is - they DO get free rides. Literally. Board members - as was revealed in the 'so you want to run an HPEF event' panel - get free airfare and one free night's stay in the hotel. Now, the hotel room is probably courtesy of the hotel itself. This kind of thing is standard for convention organizers and I don't have a problem with it. The organizer guarantees a certain occupancy, they get a night comped. But airfare? Airfare's easily the most expensive item in the budget! Airfare can cost several hundred dollars each! I'd much rather HPEF get free convention tickets than get free airfare, or at the least, discount membership to volunteers, as other conventions do.
And this is a convention, NOT a conference. Much was made of that, too. But conferences don't have dealer's rooms. They don't use fake names on badges. They don't encourage role-playing and dressing-up or show movies or a hundred other things that HPEF does.
Frankly, I'm seriously reconsidering going to Prophecy 2007. The only thing in its favor is it's in Toronto and I adore Toronto and I know 2 people in Toronto and did I mention Toronto?
I may add more later. Dinner's ready.
ETA: I forgot to mention the Leaving Feast. Or the breakfast(s). Well, they really only served one breakfast over two days, which probably explains running out of juice 15 minutes in the second day and those over-dry muffins. The leaving brunch at Nimbus was yummy. I remember something about waffles and going back for seconds. Heck - I remember the popcorn and sweets station for the movie showings. But at Lumos... not only were the rooms 'full' by 30 minutes in - and thus closed off to paying guests, but the staff started cleaning up at about the same time, too. Need I mention that breakfast was supposed to last 2 hours? (We got fruit, eggs, bacon, sausage, mashed potatoes, cereal, milk, bread. It was a buffet. There was water to drink and I think they were serving coffee and, apparently, weak tea.)
Oh - and the 'Minister for Magic' for Lumos (Debbie of the Tossed Hair and Careless Laugh) neglected to make the same announcements at each breakfast. Apparently, the silent auction ended at 10:45 instead of 11:00 as was posted or implied. It may not seem important to you, but to the woman who broke down into tears because she didn't get to place a final bid on the picture she desperately wanted because the auction ended earlier than she expected, it was serious business.
The Minister for Magic also apparently has (had? Do we get a new one now that the con is over?) communication issues. Every single complaint, every single foul-up, every. single. one. was due to her inability to communicate with the hotel, her staff, the con-goers. Shouldn't there be some kind of demonstration of qualifications to run a convention? You know, prove you can communicate effectively with others? Or is the only real necessity the ability to laugh the exact same way regardless of provocation?
(And can you tell that woman annoyed me? I'm sure she's a lovely person and under other circumstances we'd be the best of friends, but... yeah.)