Being Fannish on Vacay

Putting these pics in a separate post, because I'm TOLD there are some people who don't care about fannish pursuits. Fair enough; you do you.

So, the first thing we found for Arthur was this:




And then there was an airplane called 'Douglas', which Martin points out is very nice, yes, but there's a whole THEATER there that's named after him.




Arthur and Martin both enjoyed the Commercial Aviation area.







It has been pointed out that none of us meet the criteria to be a stewardess, to which we all reply "SO WHAT?".

A fandom I didn't expect to find represented anywhere at the Air and Space Museum:



Poor soul will NEVER live down his willful ignorance of the solar system.

Out to the National Mall, and I wanted to try something I've seen done in the Sherlock fandom. It worked...well, it's not impressive when you look at these pictures, but given how hot and humid it was, and how tired everyone already was, I'm calling these angles and distances a compromise.



(Okay, so please notice the tree and the grey whatever-it-is box. We were THERE. The joyous cries of 'we found it' rivaled any geocaching run ever.)

I'm including this one because I'm silly like that. And because he's my absolute favorite from that movie.



The day was BRILLIANT.

Hotel Art

Hotels tend to specialize in rather bland art. Makes sense, really. Impersonal, soft colors, themes that are unlikely to offend anyone.

But this hotel room has a picture that is, frankly, weird and creepy. I get that it's supposed to be trees...but that's really not what it looks like.

It's a picture of dust bunnies from beyond the void. They come through tiny portals that open up under our furniture. Slowly, over the course of months and years and centuries, they accumulate and drift through our homes. Our brooms and bagless vacuum cleaners are actually their tools, releasing them into the open, where they gather and join together to form enormous floating clouds called smears. Seven smears forms a smutch. Smutches roam the landscape, generating long slender proboscises which descend to the ground and suck the very life-force out of their host planet. Then they open portals beneath some other species couches, and the process begins again.

This painting is not decorative art. It is a warning. Beware the Dust Bunnies of Death. Damp mop your hard surfaces. Bagged vacuum cleaners are an acceptable secondary line of defense.