Weekend rundown

We need the rain, but I can't bring myself to lament gorgeous clear autumn skies too sincerely. It's been ridiculously beautiful all weekend, and for once there have been things to do. Metro did its best to make sure that nobody made it to anything on time, but lo, we would not be thwarted.

• The LOC book festival was reedonkulously crowded, which is how it should be. I skidded in just in time to hear Michael Dirda's intro to Terry Pratchett (summary: You know who he is, I think he's as good as Chaucer, without further ado etc.), who was his usual engaging self. The news that Christopher Lee will be voicing Death in the next movie sent me scrambling for my phone to call Weebat as soon as the speech was done. Also the story about how the ALA's Carnegie medal is just the same size and shape as a chocolate coin, and fun to be had with that information, was a classic.
• Magical Montgomery, conveniently close to home, was full of dancers, volunteer coordinators, and local artists, some quite good. I picked up a triptych of photos from one booth, each showing a different path through woods or boulders. The Joy of Motion tribal-fusion belly dancers were very impressive, smiling faintly while they demonstrated first-rate (from my uneducated perspective) torso work and hand precision, and it was hard not to be charmed by the tiny and distinctly non-Celtic moppets performing soft-shoe Irish dance with a ceilidh band.
• Watching a dress rehearsal of La Mère's tai chi group at the Lisner, I boggled again at the coaches' daughters, who are hyperflexible and strong and look far too sweet to be the kind of martial artists they clearly are.
  
• Crafty Bastards was worth the trip, but a leetle too insanely packed with the city's entire hipster population (I ran into Rockninja and the Object, who agreed that it looked like some of Brooklyn's population might've been bused in). I give some negative marks for overuse of felt and Bob Ross as self-consciously ironic jokes, but there were still things worth checking out.
• Fiesta DC 2007, up in Mount Pleasant, featured a lot of great demos by local dance groups, including a Bolivian troupe who soldiered along despite wearing clothing not at all suited to the 80-degree weather. It takes guts to pay tribute to Pachamama when you're in a swampy Indian summer day and wearing three layers of nylon and corduroy. I especially liked Batala, a DC-based all-female samba drum band, and the various groups wearing huge frame-and-feather sequined costumes.
  

The only problem with a weekend like that is that it's hard to get motivated to do actual exercise. I felt triple guilt: One friend rode a century race on Sunday (clearly not the act of a mentally balanced individual, but there it is), the DC triathlon meant that the streets near the book festival were fill of tasty sinewed folks in spandex (reason enough to make that a regular event), and my masseuse on Friday pointed out that my lack of flexibility is putting further strain on my back and hips. Damn, there really aren't any good excuses for dodging exercise, are there?

And lo, the days were accomplished when the book should be delivered

Credit for the unusual peace of the streets this gorgeous morning may be laid at the door of the fine book distribution network that ensured that Harry Potter and the For Finally It's Here has been pressed into the waiting hands of millions worldwide. I ordered previous books for day-of-release delivery, but I didn't do that this time; it just never seemed pressing enough. Dodging spoilers for a few extra days may be tricky, although the world won't end if I hear something at the wrong moment.

I did, however, visit the local Diagon Alley last night. Holy Fizzing Whizbees, it was grand. The downtown area was packed with people listening to the live music ("Ron Weasley is my best friend/ Even though nobody calls him The Weasel"), getting balloon broomsticks from a wizard in black and gold robes, and photographing one another's costumes--which were, by and large, awesome. There were bewigged Tonkses, Ministry officials identifiable by their top or bowler hats, students in some combination of school kilt/black skirt/white shirt/house tie/V-necked sweater/cape or robe (the few Slytherins looked particularly elegant), house elves resplendent in prosthetic noses or ears and socks pinned to their hats or shirts, dignified professors stroking long false beards, a tall lanky Draco with his dark hair sprayed silver and slicked back, a Death Eater with a glittery "The End Is Near" sign adorned with a Dark Mark, and many groups wearing custom t-shirts, my favorites of which read, in flowery script, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good" on the front and "Mischief managed" on the back.

The stores were in on the fun, too: Marimekko became Madame Malkin's, with a pair of mannequins modeling the latest in cloak fashions. McGinty's became Ye Leake [sic] Cauldron, its revised menu offering firewhisky, butterbeer, dragon bangers and mash, and elderflower wine. Potbelly's turned into the Three Broomsticks, Ben & Jerry's into Florean Fortescue's, and Borders into Flourish and Blott's. Places like the Austin Grill that didn't bother changing identities became havens for people feeling a little overwhelmed by all the crowds outside.

Borders itself, of course, was ground zero for all the parties, offering a Snape debate, costume party, and other events for the evening. I'm sure that all that stuff was tremendous, but by 9 PM there was not a chance in hell of actually getting into the store. They had given out line numbers starting at 10 in the morning, so the line snaked around the TV vans parked to capture the scene, and every inch of floorspace inside the store was crammed with costumed book fans. I left before midnight, the better to miss the surge as the books came out, doubtless an image that would haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights. This morning, the store windows are covered with signs advising that only people will reserved copies can pick them up; "walk-ins accepted after 4 PM." Maybe we could demand socialize book care rather than this literary HMO?

Good fun all around. To everyone who dressed up, worked late, or came up with a silly idea to make the evening memorable, here's to ya. It was a grand show.