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NCOR Highlights

Written by Katrina Moncure Feb 07, 2006

Saturday, February 4, 2006

About 8:30am EST, Alex Koroknay-Palicz sets off in THABOAT to go to American University to set up the NYRA table for the conference, but must first do the regrettable: swing by my house and bring me along!

At 9:00am, we arrived and set up the table. Well, more like Alex went to the registration table to take care of everything and told me to set up the table, but I was a bit too tired and stupid and unfocused at the moment to do anything more than stare at the table for a bit, but I got into gear eventually.:D

Once the table was set up, with three-year-old literature stacked about, buttons glimmering promisingly in the fluorescent lighting, and the big clumsy banner taped precariously to the front of the round table, we sat behind the table and played the waiting game. I think I started rambling on about my own college days for some reason. I probably had a point I meant to get to, but like all my other ramblings, I most definitely forgot the point right away.

Beside us was the Albany Free School, whom we talked to a bit. Well, Alex talked, I just kind of nodded along. I’m not exactly the talking kind. Except when I’m rambling out of my ass about something or other, of course. Either way, they were there with a bunch of their students. Some of them came to our table and bought Fuck Ageism buttons. Ranted about the Crossgates Mall curfew, too.:b:

“We’re the National Youth Rights Association. We fight oppression against youth. Lowering the voting age, lowering the drinking age, getting rid of curfews, fighting for students’ rights, youth free speech, etc. Take a flyer if you’d like and sign up for our low-volume e-mail list. Buttons are a dollar each, and wristbands are $1.50.” Ah, the pitch. Repeated ever so often.;)

I gazed at the people in front of us. Guys in dresses. Girls with pink frilly skirts over their jeans. Lots of piercings. Lots of weird hair. Finally, I turned to Alex and said, “You know, it would be really hard to look odd here.” to which he replied “No it wouldn’t. Not if some guy came in here wearing a suit and tie and neat haircut, looking like a Mormon or something.” Later on, we saw a suited guy!

People walking by our table sported all kinds of buttons with neat slogans. At one point, we saw a guy wearing a denim jacket with buttons on it, and one of them was a small pink one that read “Vagina Friendly”. I promptly informed Alex that I had no idea what that was supposed to mean but he should SO make that his avatar.

Alex was certain he would be speaking at a workshop or something at lunch time. A few times, he got up looking for anything indicating just what the exact details of it were, since it was very up in the air. Leaving me to run the table alone, repeating the pitch over and over to anyone who came within ten feet of the table. Ah, tabling!

Finally, Alex got some info for this alleged workshop and went off to do that, leaving me alone to plug NYRA and direct people to his talk. Not that I was paying any attention when he told me where to direct people to. All I remembered was he posted a sign. So while he was gone, I told people he was giving a talk and to follow that sign posted over there. He’s upstairs somewhere.:cute:

During the KP’s absence, lunch was being served. We had agreed that since only one lunch per table was allotted, he would get it (since he’s poor) and that I would look for food elsewhere. So I paid no mind to the long-ass line that was forming at the lunch table, which was right near our NYRA table. Even though I was hungry. No! Must leave it for Alex! After a short while, since the lines were so long and people couldn’t just leave their tables, the NCOR folks wandered around with their boxes of hummus wraps and such. Girl with box offered me one and I took it. It sure smelled good. I was so hungry. No! Leave it for Alex! So I folded my arms with disdain and looked away from the hummus wrap as if it were someone I was deliberately not speaking to. It sure smelled good, though. No, dammit! You agreed! Soon enough, a different girl came around with a box and offered a wrap, and I said I had one already, but she said if we weren’t to be there the next day, which we weren’t, then we could get two then. Well, she didn’t have anything in her box I wanted (I don’t even want to know what vegan chicken salad is.:scared: ), so I passed. Eventually, Alex returned and I pointed to the hummus wrap and said, “Here. Eat this.”

Upon Alex’s return and while he was eating the hummus wrap I’d so nicely avoided eating myself, I asked how the workshop went. “It was a bust,” he replied, continuing to explain that the only people there were two people asleep on couches and some dude going on and on about aliens.

Met cool people! Sarah from Misled Youth was there with Brendan (aka “xcriteria” ). Adam Schwartz showed up as well (enter oneness). Been wondering what happened with him. Plus Bob Westfall, who had come to a DC chapter meeting last May. And along came Conor Nugent (Got liberty?) around mid-afternoon.

I took an opportunity (I forget what sparked it) to jab Alex about his yellow and green fixation, although mentioning it was nice One and Four had decent colors. “Well, yellow and green is better than the colors on Eight Mine Fortress!” he snapped, to which I said “Hey! Those colors are good. The whole point is to be easy on the eyes.” And he burst out laughing at that. I added “Well, Galen likes the colors.” and Alex retorted “He’s color-blind!”

Conor mentioned he likes chess. Somehow that conversation steered towards our hallowed NYRA forums arcade. Then Alex and I got to bickering about which of us was best at the games. Par for the course, you know.

At one point during our bickering, Conor chuckled and mentioned we were acting like brother and sister. Aha! So someone else agrees. So let it be known, people. Alex and I are twins or something! Two years apart and not related, but you know, we’re twins. And his dad and my dad are both named Bob, so that also makes us siblings. Therefore, enough with the “we should get together” cracks, you incestuous perverts!:doitnow:

Okay, now I’m pissed. Amongst our random comments between table visitors, I learned something shameful and shocking. All this time, I’ve been mispronouncing the word “Magyar”. Alex teased me a bit until I finally said that, hey, if he can incorrectly insist that Ken Boring’s screen name is pronounced and-oo-wah-thee, then I can say mag-yar. Hell, I didn’t even bother to point out that he achieved the impossible in another area: he somehow mispronounced “SciVille”.:dubious:

We sold a lot of buttons and had to put more out constantly. At least they were a nice distraction from the boring and old flyers we were giving out. Yeesh!

There were a few “tough crowds” here and there. Skeptical folks who felt the voting age should be lowered only if certain conditions were met, such as better schools or whatever. People not buying Alex’s arguments. Those kind of on the fence, not sure one way or another. Whatever.

More cool people! Some chick from a sticker company was beside herself with joy to learn an organization like us existed! She talked with us for a while and lives right in DC. This chapter may come back, yet! But seeing the sheer thrill at discovering a youth rights org is out there? Reminds me of me first learning NYRA existed, a young me, at the tender age of 20.;)

Alex wandered off a bit again and returned with some stickers. Amusing stickers. “I’m Hornier than John Phillip Sousa!” “WTF?” (resembling a W ’04 sticker). And others. Since those stickers cost money that Alex took right out of our donation jar, I reminded him that I, his Treasurer, saw that and did not approve. He assured me the stickers would go right onto the NYRA file cabinet (which, as I saw the following day at his Super Bowl party at his house, he was right). I told him those thirty cents were coming out of his salary. Sigh. Scammer.:shame:

Eventually, it was 5:00pm and time to pack things up. Conor left around then. I took down the banner, which managed to not fall at all until about 4pm, rolled it up, whacked Alex on the head with it, and packed it up. And we were out of there, leaving behind all the sorry folks who were probably going to return the next day, committing the un-American, deadly sin of defying the Super Bowl.

We returned to THABOAT, where I for some reason totally failed at getting my seat belt buckled. When it was suggested what I would try next that I would fail at, I mentioned I might, you know, try being nice to Alex. It was agreed. I’d SO fail at that.:lol:

Eventually, most likely to his relief, he dropped me off at my house. Thus pretty much ending a fun, interesting, yet somewhat normal day of tabling at the National Conference for Organized Resistance.:b:

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