Gem and Mineral Shows… Thoughts in advance

I was thinking of live-blogging, or at least tweeting, the upcoming Kansas City Gem and Mineral Show. It’s the 50th anniversary, and maybe there will be cake. Not that there will be time for me to enjoy cake: probably, there will be very little time to blog or tweet, even assuming that I’ll have a signal there on which to enjoy my new iPhone’s awesomeness. I’ll be working the science store booth, and probably watching to make certain that no miscreants light-finger the merchandise.

As a result of working the show, I have largely stopped enjoying it, though. While I suppose that I and my magpie mind should be pleased to be employed at all, I look forward to the time – in the near future – when I have changed jobs and can go back to being a civilian, or maybe even fulfill my vague and diffuse ambition to be an exhibitor, rather than being stuck in a booth. I’d like to take in a few lectures, or just have the leisure of wandering. Instead, once again I’ll be walking that fine line between telling the metaphysical types that no, I’m not aware of any particular vibational quality in that piece of wavellite and completely losing it on the anti-scientific nonsense peddled by unscrupulous swine preying on the hopeless and the gullible. Which is fun.

This is a lesson that I should have remembered from my youth, when I worked the show with my father. He used to like to take turquoise, jewelry, and a selection of Arizona minerals that he could part with – for a price – and set up in a space on the non-retail “swap side”, which currently means “dark and cramped back table ghetto”, if recent memory serves, but when we were going in the 80s, it was just as brightly-lit and welcoming as the “retail side” of the convention center. Of course, these days, what with being older and all, it seems a bit more of a hassle, and eBay is just as easy a way in which to sell his wares, albeit in a smaller, steadier stream. As far as selling off his vast reserves of turquoise goes, he has learned his lesson.

Maybe one day I will learn mine.