When last we left our heroine in the third installment of "The Exciting Adventures of Andi", Stu and I had both gotten ill, were feeling spectacularly better and were determined to salvage some of what, it being Saturday afternoon, is the last major day of the con. We still get frustrated at this. All the conventions we've worked on, we have tried to extend the event to at least PART of Sunday. But the convention was pretty much ended once the banquet ended. We'd not coughed up for the banquet (I tend to tell people that unless i have to - by being a committee member) or if I have a job to do, I avoid the banquets. Crowded space for wheelchair turnaround, the hassle of buffets (at times) and a desire to taste what the city has to offer rather than hotel food.

First, head on over to the other s...the dealer's room where, we had been told, it was likely that we'd bump into our wonderful friends Dick and Pat Lupoff. I've known the Lupoffs since about the first year I lived in the SF bay area and just, well, gosh. They are always up there in the top ranks. They'd been in San Diego or LA just before so were running around exhausted. But as I don't get down to Berkeley much and I can no longer crash on their couch as I did not too long ago when I could handle a few steps, well, it was so good to see them. Which was pretty much all we got to do, but "see them".

But hanging out there talking with Bryan, and being awfully pleased to see how well he looks, given the hell he's been through, Everything sort of fell away when he pointed over to a tabla few feet away and said "well, yeah, there's Ced, right there. In the hat." (okay, his back was too us, after all.) Just then Ced stood up and turned around and I headed toward him, only to watch his jaw drop. "Ced" I cried, standing up, "I hope to hell I don't give you the stomach bug I have. But there is no WAY I am not hugging you." And promised to pay his hospital bills if he caught anything from me.

Cedric Clute. whooooo boy. Have I ever blogged about Ced and Jan and the Magic Cellars. Where Quinn and Lizzy and Terry hung out. Where on any given weekend, there would be a world-class Chinese magician, or one whose claim to fame was Pboy that is one big bunny rabbit." Where the bartender would call you over and hand you a glass with the rest of the fancy drink that just went through the blender. Where fandom found fun, and each other, every Friday and Saturday night. Where I got married, back in the late 70s, with Debbie Notkin and Bob Silverberg Standing up with us while Marta Randall presided. Yes. Really. And the guest list? You'd have plotzed.

But it was the Friday/Saturday night tradition that was so funny and warm and wonderful. The friends you hung out with - so many of whom I don't see any more but still consider my friends. There were talented performers and great friends. There are stories that can go for hours. And through it was Cedric. And through it was Jan.

After Cedric and I let go, he said "come on, Jan's just over there" and again, I tried not to breathe on my old friend. And Stu, who's only heard about the Cellar and the Clutes and Volcano a gazillion point five times, went along and listened to us babble at each other. It was mostly "how are you what are you doing where are you now when did you last see so-and-so" hoping that other stuff would come. But there was so much to catch up on. Did they still live in Volcano? Was the St. George still going? What about the Inmans? How's the house? When did you last see anyone from the Cellar?

And I got the true origin story of How it was that Cedric Clute found the Flying Karamazov Brothers for all of us. I had it wrong all those years. And then they had to go, but we hoped we'd find them again. Oh oh oh mannnnn oh.

We wandered over to see our friend Scott Dennis, at the shirt table by himself this convention as Jane had to cancel at the last minute. Last time we'd seen Scott was a couple days after his very serious accident back during Worldcon last year. Seeing him in the rather "hey you look just like Scott" phase was very reassuring. We try often to dine with the Dennises as they, like the Lupoffs and Frank Robinson have some of the best food and restaurant karma I know. Dinner conversation always good, food always some of the best. This time, we got to bring Scott with us as we returned to "I had a lobster roll and beet salad with pistachios" Cafeteria 15L, where we'd eaten on Thursday night and swore to return. And had another dinner that could be beat (beet?). And I had a ridiculously large, rich, wonderful plate full of ravioli with cheese and butternut squash and the usual brown butter/sage sauce and oy. And went back to the hotel,headed up to the room just to dump our stuff and that was it for me. I was so tired I ended up in bed, not sick in any way, just wiped out tired. But hey, I was getting some reading done, right? I was dismayed because it was doubtful who'd be left on Sunday morning,but I just had no oomp. I out of oomp. Oomp-free.

We were to leave Monday afternoon and I know that at one time I had said to Stu, maybe we should just see about going home early, but it really felt smart to have the extra time. And without knowing if we'd be the sole LCC folks left at the hotel, we still could make good use of our time. As we did.

Final installment coming soon.