Battlestar Galactica Convention ends in Cylon Orgy of Tears, Hugs. No Arrests.

Well it’s over and Ol’ Cy is exhausted. Having subsisted on a diet of mostly gin, tonic, and lime for the past five days I’m back from Houston, at the RedEye Rogue press room.

I’m still trying to sort out just what the frak it was that I experienced this past weekend. I think it’s going to take a long time to process it.

Galacticon 3 certainly had its ups and its downs. Hell, any great drama does. And let’s face it, even Battlestar had its Black Markets, and Woman Kings.

My lowest moment had to be when a vendor, attempting to verify my identity during a credit card purchase, asked me to spell my name backwards – and I went blank.

My drunk ass mind couldn’t see my name spelled out in front of me. I vapor locked in front of approximately 9000 people.

After painfully spelling it out – backwards- I leaned forward and said, “I’m drunk.”

Where else other than at a con can you use being drunk as an excuse.

I’m looking at you Michael Hogan!

But seriously, while it was nice getting to know the actors from the shows, what I am going to take away from the convention most of all will be the memories of meeting so many wonderful fans. The people I met at Galacticon 3 restored my faith in humanity. I feel like I have a new family and for that I am grateful.

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And a thought. Whatever happened to that couple that had come from out of state with no place to stay and 20 dollars in their pocket begging attendees to let them crash on the floor of their room?

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