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November 16, 2001
One of the evenings at the RT Convention involved
taking a bus to Arabian Nights. I, of course, drove a rental.
It's better that way. I like to feel capable of escaping
when tired. I had two riders too.
I parked up close - with all the usual jokes about
remembering where we put the car.
"Next to the white one."
Yuk. Yuk.
Can't let me forget that I went shopping and then
had to have security find my car - because I went without my parked-car-radar-equipped
younger son.
We had to first be photographed - which meant finding
out how to get a second set since there were three of us.
So we went on in - and sat for 2 hours - so people
could hit the bar, the silent auction, and the Tarot readers. We were
at the side of one room.
My son was in his wheel chair - clutching his camera.
The expensive big one. Because he is the photographer. Wheel-chair or
no.
A belly-dancer costumed woman came up, hair of white-blond,
but a familiar face, and put her naked leg across his lap.
Deer in the headlights look on my son's face.
Freaked him right out. He tried not to show it -
oh no! He is not that good an actor!
I put a name to the face a few minutes later and
explained who she was (he actually knows her).
He had to get up and amble over to tell her that
he had had no idea who had put their naked leg in his lap.
This was the source of considerable hilarity.
I was in an authentic Bakarain green house dress
- lined inner dress with sleeves and top caftan heavily covered with gold
trim - to die for that trim!
My friend had brought two dresses - she wore the
orange and gold one, no inner sleeves.
They are beautiful. But not exactly suited for housework.
Her sister was living over there and bought them.
Because of my son, I had traveled light. (Ha. Ha.
As my muscles are now getting even.)
I had made no costumes for this convention - whereas
I usually sew for three months.
So this costume saved my life. Want to fit in a little
after all.
There were elaborate costumes. (These women must
have traveled in a freight train - must have needed a box car to transport
all those hoops and masks.)
Not all costumes were of Arabian design - but there
were a lot of belly dancers. Trouble is, most of them had no bellies!
(Nothing to shake as it were. Whereas, had I been so attired, I would
have had more than enough!)
We eventually went in - and discovered, that without
asking if he could climb stairs, required for everyone else, they had
put my son and the rest of our party against the rail on the lowest level
- so we had a great big pole at eye-level.
We had dinner in the dark while the show went on
(beautiful horses) - it was raw slab of beef rib, tiny potatoes, flash
cooked veggies. And diet coke.
The show was long - series of little skits - cute
"clown" - i.e. court jester.
The princess. Her court. The handsome prince. The
bad guy. And her wedding entertainment. Including a chariot race and a
cowboys and Indian scene - followed by an Indian song with a dressed rider
on a marked horse. Gypsies and patriotic flags were also included.
On such was the parade of flags - fake snow like
confetti falling - and the center guy in a flag-shirt and a big flag.
He got up on the horse's back - and my son got a shot of that one! Fabulous
shot.
We got our staged photos (they take them on entering)
and went on to the costume contest. My son had to take photos there -
and he was dead on his feet. I was holding him up for some of the shots.
I got him out and home to the hotel long before they
stopped partying. The DJ was rocking the house.
Sorry, I need my sleep!
So does he.
But he hasn't quite recovered from the naked leg
in his lap.
Poor boy!
Lisa assaulting my son!
After he figured out who she was----
CJ and me - that dress is incredible!
My friend (of the dresses) and Troy
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