I was really looking forward to YearlyKos. Little did I expect what would happen there...
It was the first time I was coming back to the USA in a long time (apart for very short business trips - 24 hours in NY in 1998, and 48 hours in Houston in the middle of the Enron meltdown in early 2002 - my last real visit was back in 1996), and I was, to say the least, apprehensive.
In recent years, I've had this idea that I'd avoid going back for so long as Bush was in power. I could not help wondering how my passport, covered from front to cover with stamps from Russia, Iran, Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan and other suspicious places, would be greeted. Even in 1996, customs was a more stressful experience in US airports than in Moscow, so how could it be now, with the ongoing paranoia? In any case, the passport issue was moot, as I forced to get a new one with the biometric data to get in, and thus no conspicuous stamps around. And the arrival in LA went amazingly well and quickly, and we found ourselves in the southern Californian sun in no time. I say "we" because I took the opportunity of this trip to stay a few days longer and turn this into a "real" holiday, i.e. without our kids, which my parents had agreed to stay with for a full week. So our trip included not just YK, but also a few days of rest (aaahh, sleeping in the morning beyond 7h30!) and visits to places like Death Valley and the Grand Canyon before the actual event. I'd been wanting to vist "the West" for years, and was happy to be able to do it like this.
My wife just stayed the first morning of YK, as I was speaking that day for the energy session, and flew back in the afternoon to New York to see some frinds of hers there for a couple of days. She got to meet a number of kossacks on Wednesday evening and Thursday morning, but as she has not really followed my daily stunts on dailykos, she is not familiar at all with all the names and ongoing debates, and was probably a bit overwhelmed by all these conversations - and certainly impressed by the number of people that had heard of me and the kind words most of them had to say. There was one strange guy with a dog in his arms which kept on barking these strange sounds; the guy seemed embarrassed but said nothing except "Rex, stop it", obviously without any effect. He did not have a name tag so I could not identify him. I wonder how the organisers let him in. But she missed the most momentous encounter...
There was a special room in the conference area accessible only to organisers, speakers and politicians. After having dropped my wife off at the airport, I came back there to see what was going on, and I had just grabbed a drink form the open bar when I heard a voice "Hey, Jerome a Las fucking Vegas!"
Yes, Maryscott, our very own Maryscott OConnor had recognised me and was coming towards me with her open arms.
"Let me kiss you, mon ami, you were fucking amazing this morning".
Conversation in the room stopped, as everybody turned towards her. I looked at her, smiling, and tried to reply in kind,
"hey Maryscott, you are pretty fucking amaz--",
but I was cut short by her imperious hug and, to tell the truth, dazzled by her smile and intoxicated by her presence. I had only seen a few pictures of her on Booman Tribune after the march in Washington late last year, and it was not necessarily obvious that she was as commanding a presence in real life as she is on the internet - but she certainly was.
She stood back, looking at me.
"I am so glad to finally meet you. Our very own Frenchman. I love you and everything you write!"
And without missing a beat, and without giving the time to respond, she continued
"You absolutely have to join me dinner with me tonight. I will not take no for an answer!"
Well, what can you do in such circumstances? "I love you"?! Maryscott!? Wow... I smiled brightly, nodded vigorously, and was about to reply "with pleasure" when she spoke again
"Well, that's decided. I'll find you after the speech".
She turned around, and left just as quickly as she had come. The room suddenly felt empty, even though the same dozen people had been in thoughout this exchange.
They were all looking at the departing whirlwind and then all turning towards me with a mixture of amusement, annoyance and envy. The couple politicos were quite miffed to see someone steal their limelight so casually. The kossacks that knew Maryscott were laughing openly, and were the first to come to me to mock my dazed looks and congratulate me on my lucky star...
"So, you can now say that you have met Maryscott OConnor. And dinner... that should be quite an experience!"
Somewhat dreamily, I replied that I was certainly looking forward to it... I enjoyed the attention focused on me right now, very different from this morning's presentation. Having spoken in front of a conference room full of kossacks was certainly a momentous experience, but it was not so different in practice from speaking at an energy conference - sure, it's nice to have the attention of a lot of people, and to have your work recognised, but it remains a wonky experience. Only time will tell if politicians actually embrace Energize America and make that presentation the start of a real political adventure. But the attention of Maryscott OConnor? THAT generated admiration around me like nothing else, even in a room with 15 people only. I basked in that sentiment projected at me, and savoured the moment, thinking about Maryscott the person, for the first time (oh so briefly) in the flesh.
Now, I had seen some pictures of Maryscott, but I must admit I did not expect the energy that pulsates in her words on screen to shine so brightly on her real life persona, and to make her stunningly beautiful. And I had barely seen her, in between the hug and the brusque departure... just a whiff, an impression, but my oh my, quite a teaser!
It's lucky that I had no presentation to make or no responsibilities for the rest of the day, as I spent it mostly daydreaming - laced, at times, with guilt, as I thought about my just departed wife. Was that an omen, an encouragement, or just a warning? I pondered but could not decide in any way and in the end decided that having dinner, even with an attractive woman, was not something to feel guilty about.
The end of the keynote speech that evening came by quickly, as I remained in my bubble, oblivious to what was going on around me, and answering absentmindedly the various approaches of kossacks trying to salute me or engage me, as I was wondering how i would find MaryScott in the now extremely dense crowds at the hotel. What a way to spend the first day at yearlykos - brushing off the kossacks I had crossed an ocean and more to meet!
But I should not have worried. As the people started moving out of the conference room, she zoomed on me, alone ("how on earth is that possible?", was my first conscious thought), and grabbed my arm.
"Come, Jérôme, I know this great place just outside the hotel".
Amazed at how she managed to pronounce my first name without a trace of an accent, and unable to comment on this suggestion in any way, I followed her out the door, half expecting to be interrupted incessantly on the way. But no, the way was open and nobody dared interrupt us as we slowly moved out, obviously in deep conversation.
Actually, it started haltingly, but, as we got the (authentic, but always awkward) words of mutual admiration out of the way and started talking about tout et n'importe quoi, it became a long, intense, fascinating dialogue. Despite her commanding presence, she is as good a listener as she speaks and rants, and she is thoughtful and, with me unflainlingly polite, even as we disagreed pretty sharply on some topics. And I did not hear her say a single word of profanity after the one when she called me out earlier in the day.
We had dinner at a place nearby (I'd be hard pressed to remember where, it just did not register...), we had an excellent time despite the absence of drinks (I don't mind drinking alone, but in this case it did not feel necessary nor useful - the company was quite enough), we laughed, we cried, we exchanged picture of our families, we cursed Bush and his cronies, bragged about our respective blogs, repeated again and again how much we loved what the other was writing - it was almost embarrasing, but oh so enjoyable.
Without our badges, nobody knew who we were, just another couple in a restaurant, and nobody interrupted us.
Walking back to the hotel, we realised it was already close to midnight. My, time flies when you are enjoying life! But we walked carelessly, arm in arm - it just felt natural after such a long and intimate conversation. It felt like we were old friends who had known each other a long time and meet again after a long absence - you know, when you can actually enjoy silences together.
Soon we were in the hotel, past the noisy gaming areas, and moving towards the rooms. I said I'd take her to her room before going to sleep, and we ended up in front of her door, still smiling but silent, and suddenly both awkward.
I moved to kiss her on the cheek (but suspiciously close to her lips), but she grabbed me and hugged me fiercely. Still holding me in her arms, and looking at me, she put her finger on my lips and whispered, "don't say a word". In silence, and holding hands, we entered her room, and faced one another again.
Slowly, imperceptibly, we leaned towards each other and softly kissed on the lips. It felt like the most natural thing to do. We stayed like this for a long time, just our lips touching, savouring the moment together.
::
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I left her room slowly, trying to impress on my memory the great evening we had just spent together, knowing that it would in all likelihood remain a unique moment, to be cherished and to be remembered - and not to be shared with anyone. I slowly went back to my room with a smile.
With my apologies to Maryscott and her husband Adam, and to my wife Ingrid. My admiration for Maryscott is real. For the rest, we'll see in June, won't we?