Funny how when we try to elevate our minds, we get sidetracked by our bodies.
The Castro Theater was hot. I dunno if they have air conditioning. Most buildings in San Francisco don’t. The average temperature here is probably 62 degrees so we don’t need it. The theater was sold out and the seats are “old-timey” – not super narrow but not the loungers we’re getting used to in the new places. Meaning, the guy next to me dominated the armrest and his thigh squished against mine. Also, we had to get up half a dozen times to let people into our row.
The Long Now Foundation was true to its name. The 45 minutes we waited for the talk to begin seemed like FOREVER.
I mention this to explain why I wasn’t as receptive to the first half of the event as I might have been if I’d been at a two-top table with a fake LED candle and a Manhattan.
I felt like I was at a sermon. Or a college lecture. No offense to Neil Gaiman because I’ve seen him at a couple of other events (at SXSW) and he was great. Is great. In this case, his slow, practiced lecture voice, the podium, the notes, me thinking I’m-not-sure-where-this-is-going, and the spotlight that illuminated him and left us in the dark…all I could think was, oh yeah, interesting, good point. Fuck, dude, get your thigh off me. Can’t you retract?
My favorite part of the lecture was when Gaiman described what it’s like when you try to relate a dream to a friend or partner. How their eyes glaze over. I won’t try to retell it. Very funny. Also, he made a clever comment about (paper) books being something you can drop and they still work afterwards (vs. Kindle). Made me laugh, but didn’t work with the theme of stories having a life of their own and living 2000 years regardless of medium. I felt like Random House or whoever publishes his paper books stepped into the room.
Once the conversation with Stewart Brand of the Long Now Foundation started, all was good, though still freaking hot. I’m a huge fan of this format. This is when moments happen that could never happen at any other time. I love listening to smart people converse.
Strange moment though. Brand asked Gaiman if his view of death had changed now that Terry Pratchett died (of Alzheimer’s). I don’t know what his view was “before” but this didn’t seem a very appropriate question to ask in front of 500+ people. You might ask at a weekend getaway with friends after too many drinks and most everyone else has gone to bed. Though Gaiman hit this head on, with anecdotes about Pratchett, his protestation that the only time he’d ever feared death was when he had the only copy of drawings for one of his graphic novels with him on a plane rang false and incredibly true at the same time. He worried that creative output would be lost. I can only assume he’d be just as protective of the creative spark inside his own soul.
I don’t know what you are supposed to say when a guy trying to build a 10,000 year clock asks you what you think about death. Offer a cheery high-five to distant future kin? Being in a hot theater left me thinking about nothing but the next five minutes. I guess I’m not a good candidate for membership in this foundation. : )