A few weeks back, my father had a bit of a shock of the medical variety... that is to say, he was given a preliminary diagnosis of prostate cancer. By all accounts, it was one of those situations where the impact of that news was such that he was unable to properly relate that news to anyone else, except 'a bit at a time' but, by the time all the details of the examination and initial tests came out, he was rather more sanguine about it than any of the rest of us.
I suspect part of that is that the medical profession and far more advertisements than I care to think about have been telling him for decades that he'll die of lung cancer because he enjoys smoking ("every 15 cigarettes you smoke causes a mutation [which could lead to cancer]" according to the latest barrage... were this true, my father must be one giant, living, breathing, sentient, pre-cancerous mutation, a la that Clive Barker short story set in a cinema).
Furthermore, his father died due to a melanoma that first presented on his foot so, out of the long list of cancers he could potentially have, prostate was probably the most favourable (while the ad featuring Bill Bailey gives grim statistics about the number of deaths from prostate cancer, it fails to mention that it can - and frequently does - just sit there doing nothing for many, many years... it's not as invasive as other forms).
But, then, when the more conclusive test was taken - a biopsy - it came back negative... but with the instruction to report back for another check in six months.
In other, less dramatic news, my niece is doing very well in terms of her health, but still hasn't quite grasped the concept that the people around her occasionally have things to do that don't involve her (surprising, given the lack of involvement her parents sometimes exhibit). She seems quite fixated on playing Hide-and-Seek, preferring to decide who's doing what (frequently having teams of hiders and seekers), yet she quickly loses interest in seeking (very much a case of "Where are you?... Oooh, shiny!"), and does a terrible job of staying hidden (preferring generally to leap out and reveal herself at the first sound of footsteps nearby).
One odd thing that struck me during one of the most recent rounds of Hide-and-Seek was another similarity between my father and me. When the niece decided that he and I were doing the seeking, our countdown harmonised almost perfectly. I don't just mean that our tones complemented each other, I mean that the we counted at virtually the same pace, and in virtually the same voice. It's a shame I didn't get a recording of it, because it occurred to me as we were counting down that it must have sounded quite weird. My father and I don't talk in a particularly similar way - I'm probably a bit quicker, so it was strange to hear our speech become almost identical in such an artificial situation, and without any effort made to count in the same way. I guess that's a strange example of a learned behaviour - counting for children must be done just so.
More recently, work has been progressing nicely... I'm still flummoxed by the definition of 'busy' - either I'm missing something, or people there are only ever rushed off their feet because they've chosen to leave something (or many things) till the last minute. It's nice to be able to get creative regularly, but it's generally a case of giving people what they want, then going through several rounds of changes to then make it look halfway decent. On the plus side, one of the templates I set up for them last year has proven so popular, they're reusing it this year.
Just this weekend, I experienced Imperial College's very own Sci-Fi and Fantasy convention, Picocon. While it's natural to draw comparisons between events, it would be rather unfair to compare something organised and operated by students to the likes of Memorabilia, or even the normally sub-par London Expo... yet, while I'm working at a company that organises events, I can't help but notice the things that are missing, most notably event schedules outside the rooms in which those events take place, and a large format (not to mention more detailed) floorplan for the locations. There was also something off about one or two of the scheduled events - for example, one of the first 'panel' events was supposed to be about 'Post Humanity in Science Fiction', and yet it seemed to be more about immortality of various kinds. Perhaps I misunderstood the meaning of 'post humanity', but I'd taken it to be - for example - the creation of task-specific 'human 2.0' by means of genetic engineering... and that came up, briefly, in a different talk.
In terms of interesting events, it was possibly better stocked than many of the 'professional' genre events I've attended and, coincidentally, one of the guests was the author of one of the books I've recently read. They didn't necessarily keep to the schedule very well, but nor did they stray from it in the way the London Expo did when Christopher Lee's turn in a death metal band ran overtime. There was very little in the way of retail, but what was there was interesting: I picked up the entire 'Skylark' series by EE 'Doc' Smith for a whole £4 and an illustrator's calendar made in honour of Doctor Who's 50th Anniversary (a limited edition of 50, too). It was a decent way to spend my weekend (then again, almost anything away from the internet could be considered 'a decent way to spend my weekend' lately), but two things stuck out on the minus side:
- When I first arrived, as a registered, pre-paid attendee, booked for both the Saturday and the Sunday, I announced myself by name and was met with a blank look... then asked if I had booked for the weekend, or just the one day... then asked if I'd pre-paid (the icing on the cake was being told that they tend to trust people who say they've pre-paid!). Seriously, if you're encouraging people to pre-register (let alone pre-pay) make that count for something: Have named and numbered 'welcome packs' at the ready, and tick people off your register as they arrive. It's easy to do, and makes it look as though you actually care about your attendees. (Seriously, if AutoAssembly can do that, pretty well anyone can.)
- The compère for the talks and panels didn't always turn up and, when he did, he didn't speak clearly. I don't just mean that English was not his first language (which it wasn't, though I don't want to be snobby about it), I mean he mumbled and stammered. If you're going to have a compère at all, make sure he turns up to everything, and introduces the event/guest clearly. Since the talks took place in lecture theatres equipped with microphones, it was puzzling that they were so rarely used.
And, hey, maybe I'll offer to deal with their signage...
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