I do not recommend not filing paperwork immediately upon receipt. Actually, I suppose I do recommend it, but the backlog of "things I don't have to deal with immediately" changing to "things I've misplaced or are expired or I've hid in the closet because I don't have time to deal with them now" finally reached critical mass and I spent an entire day sorting through paperwork that I really didn't have time to deal with, except that there was enough of the damn stuff I had to deal with it or it was going to go from squating to demanding voting rights.
Besides, it had my passport, and I'm going to Westercon in a few days, in Seattle, and on the off chance I decide to go up to Canada for a day afterward, it's a good thing to have. Not that you technically need one to visit Canada or Mexico, but when I visited Mexico a few years back, I got one just in case, and it turned out I did need it since I was a double for some German guy the police were looking for in Vera Cruz. His passport picture actually looked more like me than mine does, and while the police gave some bogus story about him accidentally withdrawing $100 extra from an ATM, I doubt they search not only the mall but the outbound bus station for anything so trivial. Good odds it was some drug deal they were investigating.
Anyway, the paperwork yeilded up my passport, as well as a few other things which will turn out useful on the trip. One is the extra set of photos of the New Orlean's cemetaries that I promised to Rob Alexander last time I was up that way and then never mailed him. The other, more sadly, is a personal letter from Gerald Pearce from three years ago. Gerry just died recently, right after a con in San Diego we both attended. As I understand, he caught pneumonia on the way back, and his son is going to be at Westercon for a memorial service for him.
Gerry was only seventy-four, and it's not much of a guess that his son is wanting stories of his father that his father never told him. Stories his friends from fandom could.
Gerry Pearce was a wonderful old gentleman, and the world's a much poorer place for him being gone. And a richer one for him having been here.
Besides, it had my passport, and I'm going to Westercon in a few days, in Seattle, and on the off chance I decide to go up to Canada for a day afterward, it's a good thing to have. Not that you technically need one to visit Canada or Mexico, but when I visited Mexico a few years back, I got one just in case, and it turned out I did need it since I was a double for some German guy the police were looking for in Vera Cruz. His passport picture actually looked more like me than mine does, and while the police gave some bogus story about him accidentally withdrawing $100 extra from an ATM, I doubt they search not only the mall but the outbound bus station for anything so trivial. Good odds it was some drug deal they were investigating.
Anyway, the paperwork yeilded up my passport, as well as a few other things which will turn out useful on the trip. One is the extra set of photos of the New Orlean's cemetaries that I promised to Rob Alexander last time I was up that way and then never mailed him. The other, more sadly, is a personal letter from Gerald Pearce from three years ago. Gerry just died recently, right after a con in San Diego we both attended. As I understand, he caught pneumonia on the way back, and his son is going to be at Westercon for a memorial service for him.
Gerry was only seventy-four, and it's not much of a guess that his son is wanting stories of his father that his father never told him. Stories his friends from fandom could.
Gerry Pearce was a wonderful old gentleman, and the world's a much poorer place for him being gone. And a richer one for him having been here.
posted by Kevin at 10:03 PM
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