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Several weeks ago we had a cookout to celebrate my birthday. A lot of friends joined me, and I think everyone had a good time. The evening flew past, though, and I didn't feel like I got to spend nearly enough time with any one person or couple.

The following weekend we hosted another cookout, this time for my sister and her husband. Another large group of people joined us, and it was a real delight to see so many kids enjoying the backyard and the playhouse. Everyone was well fed, and the afternoon seemed to last a really long time. When I checked the time, though, I was astonished to learn that only two hours had elapsed. Shortly after this, the skies darkened, the winds picked up, and thunder boomed out across the neighborhood. In an absolute flash we had the entire cookout shut down and cleaned up. Literally everyone pitched in, and within seven minutes we were all sitting comfortably on the porch, enjoying our beverages, and watching the rain pour down. I joked that we could all pursue promising careers as carnies, given our rapid tear down of the event.

The air was cool after the rain, and there was no rush to do anything at all, so we simply stayed on the porch. We were all laughing, and feeling good, and genuinely enjoying the simple pleasure of company. We stayed on the porch until the wee hours of the morning, and I was absolutely stunned to realize that many hours had slipped by so quickly!

The following weekend was the weekend in which everything seemed to be happening: Origins, ComFest, PodCamp Ohio, and my dad's birthday cookout. Things started Friday night when Owen arrived in Columbus. He picked me up, and I directed him to Goodale Park, so that he could see for himself what ComFest was all about. We meandered around a bit, and I shared a little of the event's history with him. We both gawked at the people, and enjoyed a little of the music playing throughout the park. At 8 PM I took my leave from him, and started my shift as a bartender at the Jazz Bar.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: selling beer at ComFest is one of the most entertaining ways to volunteer. The other bartenders have always been good-natured, and are almost always in a good mood. The crowds are usually mellow, and happy to receive the liquid gold you provide to them. My shift was over almost before I knew it.

A word of advice to anyone attending ComFest, or any similar event at which large plastic mugs can be purchased: always purchase as clear of a mug as you can. I further recommend against a koozie for your mug. The clearer the mug, the easier it is for the bartender to ensure that you get more beer than foam. Dark mugs, and mugs wrapped up in a koozie, present a real challenge, especially as the evening draws on, and you're often left guessing by weight alone how much beer might be in the mug. Every person with a clear mug absolutely got beer poured to the top of the mug.

I coerced Owen into picking me up from ComFest, and then treated him to a late snack at The Blue Danube. The Dube has been a favorite haunt of mine since college, and I try to expose as many out-of-town friends as I can. It was at the Blue Danube that Chris, Rich, Owen, and I officially conceived and started Habari.

After only a scant few hours of sleep I was up again, in order to help PodCamp Ohio. I had volunteered to help the check-in desk, so I had to be there an hour before things officially opened. There was already a small crowd of volunteers when I arrived. We quickly established the check-in process, and settled in to wait for guests to arrive. We had about 150 people show up for the event, the overwhelming majority of which had pre-registered. Everyone seemed pretty excited about the day's event, and there was a very positive vibe radiating from most everyone. There were a lot of video cameras recording impromptu interviews. I think things got a little silly when someone used a webcam to stream the (by then largely dormant) check-in desk online.

I have mixed opinions about PodCamp, which might merit a more complete post after I've had some time to really distill them. The day wasn't terrible, but I don't think it was what I had been expecting. As someone who put up money to help Habari be a Gold Sponsor of the event, I don't think we got our money's worth, which is deeply disappointing. The day felt at several times like it was dragging on, but that's likely because I had plans I was looking forward to later in the evening, and because I only attended two sessions.

Judging from the Twitter and blog chatter I've seen, most people seemed to have a considerably better time than I did, and I'm glad that the event was a positive one for them. Maybe I've just been using Internet communications tools for so long that I'm too jaded to get excited about building communities online -- I mean, I've been building and participating in online communities for over a decade now. Of course, I do so for the value it provides me in its own right, rather than for monetization, which was the focus of at least several PodCamp sessions, so maybe I wasn't the target audience.

After PodCamp, I high-tailed it home, and then over to my dad's house for his birthday party. He had the entire affair catered, so he got to spend the whole evening socializing with his friends and neighbors. There was a marked difference about this party from most of dad's other cookouts, which I found interesting. Usually, there are small factions of people who know one another, sitting together. Sometimes there's some cross-pollination, but it's usually brief, and very perfunctory. At this party, though, I saw a lot of people really mingling, and interacting with one another. That was neat to witness, and I'm glad that dad's social circles intersected so well. Dad seemed to really have enjoyed himself. I only stayed for a few hours, before hustling back down to ComFest, but Carina tells me that the party ran long into the night, and that everyone thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

My second shift at ComFest was much like my first of the weekend, except that it ended prematurely. Normally, the bar cashiers sell beer tokens until 10:30, and then bartenders accept tokens in exchange for beer until 11:00 PM. Throughout my shift I kept hearing the supervisors talking to one another about "crowd control". I didn't see anyone causing any trouble in the throng of people waiting for brew, so I didn't pay much attention. I saw a handful of old friends, and was generally having too good of a time to pay much attention to rumblings about crowd control.

As an aside, I only had to turn away one person for beer this year. His license had expired in 2005. I'm not sure if he was a plant by the cops looking to bust a lax bartender, or if he was underage using someone else's expired license, or if he genuinely forget to renew his license for three years. It looked like a real license, and the photo looked like him. I checked ID on almost every single person I served -- save those obviously old enough to purchase -- and only had the one invalid ID.

To my surprise, and without any warning or announcement, we were told at 10:30 PM to stop serving beer, and to step behind the taps away from the line. The police offers on duty walked up and down the row making the announcement that the bar was closed. People were surprised, but I didn't see anyone getting overly agitated or upset. We wrapped up, checked out of our shifts, and quickly left the area. I didn't bother to check the other bars to see if they were closing. I was ready to enjoy some of ComFest!

I meandered through the park for a bit, finally stopping to watch Anna and the Annadroids, a truly captivating dance performance. There was a very small crowd when I sidled up to the stage, but by the time their set was over the crowd had swelled considerably. After this, I called Owen and made him pick me up again. I had intended to take him to Columbus' goth bar, Outlands, but that plan was dashed against the rocks when we pulled into the empty parking lot: the place was closed! I next tried to take him to Bob's Bar, the cultural hub of the Midwest, but he complained that it was too loud. So we retired to O'Reilly's, where we nursed a couple of Guinness, and I nearly fell asleep in the booth as a wave of exhaustion finally caught up with me.

Sunday morning Carina, the twins and I went to dad's house to say our final farewell to Ann and Igor, who were headed back to Ukraine. It sounds like they had a terrific time in the States, and I'm glad we all got to see them as much as we did. I can't remember the last time I've seen Ann that happy. I'm really delighted for her and Igor!

After that, I took Owen to Nancy's Kitchen, and then we stopped by Origins -- an event I've never attended in all my years. I don't have a crew with which to play role playing games these days, so I was primarily interested in just seeing what the current role playing game market is, as well as to see for myself what Origins is all about. As I later mentioned to a coworker, after walking the show floor I felt somewhat better about myself for being as balanced as I am in the things that I do with my life. While there, I picked up two games from Out of the Box, Blink and MyWord!. Both are fast-paced thinking games, and both are outrageously fun to play. I'm really looking forward to playing both with the twins, as I think they'll get a kick out of them.

Looking back, the entire weekend seemed to slip by in a blur. I did an awful lot -- probably too much, and I didn't get to enjoy any one thing for very long -- but I had fun with what I did. It was terrific to re-connect with Owen in person again. One of these days I'll have to head out his way, so that he can be the host for a change! Maybe he can take me to one of the meetups he keeps talking about; or maybe I can crash the Philly PodCamp with him.

Pat just alerted me to the fact that the first ever PodCamp Ohio is on the same day as the 36th annual ComFest weekend! As usual, FreeGeek Columbus expects to have a table at ComFest, at which I'd like to volunteer some time: it's always fun to interact with the public, explain the FreeGeek principles, and advocate responsible computer recycling. As most folks know, I volunteered for ComFest in 2006 and again in 2007. I served beer both times, and had so much fun that I signed up for two shifts this year!

That means that I'll have a very busy weekend: slinging beer Friday, June 27 from 8 to midnight at the Jazz bar, up early for PodCamp Ohio on Saturday, June 28. Hopefully I can sneak in a quick nap and then an hour or so at the FreeGeek booth. Finally, more beer slinging at the Jazz bar Saturday night from 8 to midnight.

Things are complicated even more this year because I expect a delegation of Habari folks to show up for PodCamp Ohio, and staff a table there (Habari is a gold sponsor of the event!). Hopefully we can all meet up Friday afternoon for some socializing before I dash off to quench the thirst of thousands of ComFest attendees. And hopefully my Habari friends won't vote me off the island when I disappear again on Saturday night to dispense more beer! Actually, I hope that my Habari friends will join me at ComFest, an original Columbus event, and enjoy all the free music and good times.

So, whatever your pleasures might be, there's a strong chance Columbus can satisfy you on the last weekend of June, 2008. ComFest runs Friday, Saturday and Sunday and is always a good time. Look for me at the Jazz bar on Friday and Saturday night! PodCamp Ohio runs morning and afternoon on Saturday, June 28, and should be a great opportunity to learn about blogging, podcasting, and social media -- as well as provide an excellent chance to meet folks passionate about these things. If you're going, look for me at the Habari table! Finally, if you're going to ComFest, look for the FreeGeek Columbus booth and tell them I said hi!

Most of Saturday was spent sitting at the FreeGeek Columbus booth, spreading the word about what we do. We didn't have quite as much interest this year as last, but there was still a sufficient flow of traffic to make having the booth worthwhile.

I was scheduled to start my shift at the Jazz Bar at 8 PM, but I decided to get to show up at 7:30. I was put to work refilling tokens for the cashiers. The basic workflow was this: customers exchange cash for tokens at one end of the tent, then get back in line to buy beer. Customers give their tokens to the bartenders who in turn place them in big buckets. It was my task to empty these buckets, sort them by color, and redistribute them back to the cashiers, to ultimately go to new customers (and back to the bartenders; repeat ad infinitum). After several hectic iterations of this, I was put on one of the taps and started serving. I served beer almost non-stop for the next three hours.

As with last year, the line nearly evaporated around 11 PM, and then surged again right before we closed up at 11:30. Unlike last year, I didn't have any trouble with any of the customers. Everyone was in good spirits, patient, and very understanding of our need to double-check IDs. Last year I got a lot of grief for checking people's IDs just after they'd been checked when they purchased tokens. No one really complained, or was unpleasant in any way, and everyone smiled broadly when I exclaimed "Happy ComFest!" as I handed them their drinks.

There were four taps on each block: one specialty beer (Columbus Pale Ale, where I was), one tap for Labatt's Blue Light, and two taps for Labatt's Blue. During the busiest times, all four would be in use. We often ended up playing Twister, reaching over, under, and around one another to reach a vacant tap to keep the beer flowing. The most interesting pour of the night for me was when a young woman presented me with four mugs at once. I was able to grasp, and then fill, all four using only one hand, which surprised several of my coworkers.

My coworkers on Saturday night were a mixed bunch. One fellow and I got into a very comfortable rhythm, communicating effectively about what we were doing so that we could either get out of one another's way, or help expedite their pour by leaving a tap on, for example. There were two women working in my section, too, and they had trouble all night long getting a decent pour. At first, they seemed terrified to spill any beer, despite the constant slopping of foam and beer going on all around them. Then they couldn't grasp the concept of tipping the cup or mug as they poured, despite repeated reminders. Then they complained frequently about the CO2 mix. The first time it was a valid complaint, as the beer was pouring very, very slowly. After that, though, they complained that it was too high, and causing too much foam. At several points I offered to pour for them, just to get them out of my way.

The only real ruckus that occurred happened early in the evening: while pouring a beer, I heard indistinct but raised voices behind me. I turned around to see a lot of people speaking toward one fellow at the front of the line. He claimed to have dropped his tokens while his friends were ordering, and wanted to scoot to the head of the line in order to get his beer right after them. The folks nearby all yelled that he was jumping the line. The police officer on duty next to me told me the story, but was unable to say whether this guy did, in fact, ditch. Thankfully, one of the cashiers was able to confirm that the guy did ditch, so I politely refused his beer and sent him to the back of the line. The crowd erupted in cheers, and several customers offered me high-fives.

Late in the evening one of the shift supervisors approached me and said "See me, after that pour." I was immediately overcome with fear. Had I served a minor? Was there a problem? What did I do? As it turned out, the supervisor wanted me to stand at the end of the line of people buying tokens to close it off. I was charged with turning away folks who wanted to buy tokens, so that the cashiers could close up. Again, to my surprise, no one was particularly agitated about being denied. They weren't happy, but no one caused any trouble.

It's a lot of fun to work the late shift. It might be fun serving an afternoon shift at a beer tent, but I think I'll stick with the late shift: the cool evening breeze helps a lot, most of the people aren't miserable from having stood in line in direct sunlight for ten minutes, and many of the people have reached that comfortable buzz that keeps them in good spirits. I barely heard the bands, playing not more than 100 feet away, but I still had a great time.

Sunday afternoon Carina and I went back down to enjoy a last ComFest beer for the weekend. We found Lisa and Jeff, and spent several hours milling around, chatting comfortably. I saw several of the shift supervisors I'd worked with the previous days, and they all invited (or nearly begged, in one case) me to volunteer again next year. There's no question about it: as long as I'm in town, I'll be volunteering at ComFest 2008!

Last night's shift as roving safety was an informative, and enjoyable, experience.

I was partnered with Richard, a Vietnam veteran who had attended all but one ComFest. He signed us up for the Gazebo shift, because he wanted to hear Willie Phoenix play at 8 PM. The territory we had to cover spanned from the Park St. Street Fair west to the Live Arts stage, and from Buttles Ave. south to the main park walkway. It was a pretty broad space, and it was divided almost cleanly into two types of people: those who were there for ComFest, and those who were there because of ComFest.

The former group were what I started calling "the professionals". They brought blankets and chairs and coolers, and took care to be respectful and mellow. Most of them had their own plastic mugs (almost always a ComFest mug from a previous year), and if they had brought their own booze into the park they all poured it into their plastic mugs. The bulk of these people were clustered around the gazebo stage, and were clearly there for the music and events of the evening. These folks were friendly, and almost everyone smiled at Richard and I as we walked past them.

The latter group, who I quickly dubbed "the amateurs," sat on the sloping lawn to the west of the pond. There were several small clutches of trees there, and people would sit in small circles. These were mostly teenagers, and they almost all sat rigidly upright when Richard and I strolled through their midst. They tried -- lamely, I thought -- to hide their pipes and bongs. Several groups had gigantic hookahs out. It was in this group that we found the most people drinking from bottles or cans, and to whom we distributed plastic cups. The conversations I had with these people was repeated so frequently that you might think it was scripted: I would approach a group of people drinking out of bottles or cans. Some of them would try to hide it; I don't know whether it was because they might be underage or because they didn't want to get caught with BYOB. I would say, quietly and politely, "Hey guys. The park rules don't let us have bottles or cans. Could you please pour your drinks into these cups?" I'd hand them a few plastic cups, and they'd say thank you. Richard would say "Please remember to recycle those bottles and cans!" We would start to walk away and then one of the kids would call to us "Hey, can I have some more cups?" This happened the same way almost every single time I approached someone. It got to be the running joke between Richard and I.

One kid I approached resolutely denounced that the can of Bud Light sitting next to him was his. I offered to recycle the can for him, and picked it up. It was nearly full. I can't be sure, but I think a look of sadness crossed over the young fellow's face. We walked off toward the nearest recycling station, at which I emptied out the beer. When Richard saw how long it was taking me to pour it out, he observed "That was that kids' beer!"

Our entire shift was quiet and easy-going. Richard and I engaged in the kind of story-telling that happens when two strangers are passing time together. He was a great partner to have, and I wasn't bored at all during my shift. We had only one altercation, and one false alarm. While walking around the "amateurs" by the pond, we heard a scuffle behind us. Turning, we saw a couple of guys posturing and yelling at one another. Richard calmly walked up and settled everyone down. One of the fellows decided he just couldn't make it to a Port-O-Potty, so he urinated on the side of one of the trees. The other fellow decided this was a disgusting thing to do, so he spit upon the first guy. As we got involved, both of them surprised me by quickly saying they weren't trying to screw up the Festival, and they both loved ComFest so much, and they'd be happy to just walk away from one another. We made a point to pay extra attention to that section over the rest of our shift, but nothing else ever happened. I spied the guy who spit on the other guy several times, and he was always calm and well-behaved, hanging out with his group of friends.

While chatting with one of the roving supervisors, we heard a distress call on the walkie-talkie that Richard was carrying. "Crowd control emergency at the gazebo!" The roving supervisor took off running toward the gazebo. Since it was within our territory, I quickly followed, with Richard right behind me. When we got there, no one could tell us what the emergency was -- everything looked completely under control! As we later learned, some of the folks in the front row wanted to dance on the stage, and were encroaching on the band's space. One of the ComFest volunteers panicked and called in the emergency without coordinating with the stage manager. Everything was well under control, and we ended up wandering off to resume our roving safety duty.

I'm glad I signed up for the early evening shift. The weather was superb, the crowd was pleasant and not yet drunk, and the route was nicely varied in terms of landscape and demographic. I don't think I'd want to do roving safety at night, when people are more likely to be out of control, and when you can't see as much of what's going on. All in all, I think I did a pretty good job of maintaining the mellow!

ComFest starts today. Last year I served beer at the festival, and had such a great time that I eagerly signed up to do it again this year. My shift is tomorrow (Saturday) night at the Jazz Bar.

I wanted to help out even more with ComFest this year, though, so I also signed up for roving security. My shift starts in just a few hours.

The festival organizers are extremely conscientious of the vibe they put out, and have been worrying for some time that the entire idea of "security" is too macho for many of the festival attendees and would-be volunteers. So this year they renamed the security team to "safety", because that more accurately reflects what they do: make sure everyone's as safe as can be so as to enjoy the weekend as much as possible. We're not bouncers, or heavies; instead we're the friendly folks who help people who need some help.

The mantra of the safety team is "maintain the mellow". The entire festival aims to be a laid-back, easy-going event that is fun for everyone. The safety training materials admonish us to be "passionate in [our] commitment to non-violence," and remind us that "everyone has a part of the truth." We're not trying to eject people who might, as a result of poor decision making, become dehydrated and therefore drunk. Rather, it's our job to help that drunk person get some water, and maybe some food. If necessary, we can sit with them for a spell to help them calm down, and to make sure they're going to be okay.

Along the way we're also responsible to watch for underage drinking, and folks who decide to bring their own beer into the park. Both can cost the festival its liquor license. The former is one of the few things for which we're likely to engage the cops who will be on-site. The latter is where our commitment to non-violence comes into play: we're not supposed to eject them, nor to make them dispose of their beers. If they have bottles, we're to encourage them to pour the beers into plastic cups (and to hand them plenty of cups, if they need 'em) and politely ask them to help keep the festival afloat by purchasing beers. According to the safety coordinators, the overwhelming majority of attendees are calm, reasonable people, so maintaining the mellow isn't too hard. But if we come across as hard nosed, or inflexible, we can really ruin the mood of the weekend for people.

So if you're coming to ComFest this weekend, keep an eye out for me! I'll help you maintain the mellow tonight, and I'll serve you beers tomorrow night!