I began my Balticon experience by running into in the parking lot of the Hunt Valley Inn. I don’t mean that literally, even though what I shared about my first-you-see-it-now-you-don’t reading might lead you to believe otherwise.

David pulled the program book out of the trunk of his car and showed me a second case of Edelman confusion by the con committee—his picture tied to my biographical blurb, as you’ll see more clearly by clicking on the scan at right. I’ve never had this sort of problem before, though during my con-going of the late ’70s and early ’80s, writers who were angry with Scott Edelstein (after his publisher backed out of several anthologies for which he’d already accepted stories) would occasionally track me down to complain.

When the call eventually comes for panel ideas for next year’s Balticon, I’m going to suggest that David and I team up to put on a joint presentation to be called something like “A Field Guide to the Edelmans,” in which we describe our distinguishing characteristics and explain how to tell us apart.

Surprisingly, considering that Balticon is such an intimate convention, further review of the program book reveals a number of attendees whom I did not run into, either literally or metaphorically—Catherine Asaro, Joshua Bilmes, Brenda Clough, and Ernest Lilly, among others. Later, I’ll report on those with whom I did interact.

But for now, it’s Memorial Day, the sun is shining, and all of the new plants we bought Saturday are begging to be put into the ground.