Well, last night was the first Blog Free or Die, the New Hampshire Blog-Con, and it was wonderful. Here are a few things you who didn’t attend missed:
I could list all the blogs represented, but fortunately I don’t have to — Tony at The Concord Journal collected names and web sites for everyone.
Next time, we need to work on security. Despite it being repeatedly tagged as a “New Hampshire” event, one Masshole managed to wheedle his way in.After much debate, we made him spit on a picture of Ted Kennedy, then allowed him to stay.
(Just kidding, Mr. Solo. It was great to finally meet you, even though I missed Deb and the girls. I just couldn’t resist a chance to engage in some gratuitous Ted Kennedy bashing.)
While I am quite proud of being a part of Wizbang, there is a certain charm and pride in having one’s own blog — with one’s own name. Choosing a name for your blog has to be one of the hardest and proudest and most important decision of a blogger, and I missed out on that. That was hammered home when I realized I was sitting between two women — one of whom talked about her quest for spirituality, the other who embraced her skepticism. And here I was, representing a blog whose name has been paraphrased as “explosive urination.”
While I would not trade a single aspect of Wizbang’s popularity and success, I noted something I’ve missed without even realizing it. I don’t talk too much about New Hampshire local issues and people and events, because I tend to think of the readership as being national — even international. I feel obligated to discuss matters that I can find some way to make interesting beyond the Granite State. That has its rewards, but its drawbacks as well. I haven’t done much to be a part of the New Hampshire blogging community, and that was driven home when I saw people with far, far smaller blogs meeting and chatting with happy readers far more readily than I did.
Parenting is a big theme for New Hampshire bloggers. Lots of stories of little kiddies were swapped.
All in all, it was a grand time. And it finally helped me get over my long-standing grudge against the Concord Common Man restaurant, the construction of which was preceded by the closing and demolition of the Capital City Diner, a 50’s-era themed diner (lots of chrome, waitresses in poodle skirts, Classic Rock, and wall-to-wall 50’s memorabilia — I kept waiting for Fonzie to show up) of which I was extremely fond.
Mr. Duckie spent most of his time in my pocket, but made a couple of new friends and even posed for a picture or two.
OK, when are we gonna do it again?
(Dang… web site link fixed. My apologies to the lovely lady from Chasing Grace.)