This Week: Becoming a Furry

When we last parted, I was lamenting my Attention Deficit Disorientation and how it caused me to wildly veer off my plotted course of discussing Kyle’s macho bravery.  I promised to return to the blog one day to do that very thing.  Well, you are in luck.  Because today is not that day.  Instead, today I will be sharing with you some word nuggets about a topic much more interesting, impactful and important to your day:  ME!  Well, me and my plans to become a Furry.

I recognize that you may need more information. 

See, Kyle isn’t the only person ‘round here that so-called “long” walks.  I, too, walk…at times in distances greater than “to the kitchen” or “down the hall.”  I live in the Strip District of Pittsburgh and work dahntahn.  A stretch of concrete jungle approximately 1.25 miles in length separates my two doors.  Thus, given my carbon footprint-friendly locale, on days where the average temperature is above 30 degrees, the clouds are not bursting rain upon us, I don’t have to travel to an outlying county for a court appearance and I’m not running late, I will walk to and from the historic Koppers Building.*   2.5 miles may not seem like much.  But it’s over a stretch of the Steel City that sure provides some interesting scenery.  And, boy howdy, have I had my share of adventures over the past three years.

Granted, most days I just flip on my ipod, diligently avoid becoming the victim of vehicular homicide (Hit only once in 3 years!  I rolled on the hood like a Charlie’s Angel), enjoy the myriad aromas that Penn Avenue serves up (which run the gamut from pungent rotting seafood, to freshly ground designer coffee, to sweet pancakes, to Pavlovian cinnamon bread, and back to pungent rotting seafood), greet the regular homeless ones, be startled by the Wholey’s bear (every! time!), turn left at the Convention Center and shortly thereafter arrive at my desk.  I’ve done it so many times that the days all run together.  All the days except for one each year.

One day each year brings to our great city the mysterious entrance of such adorable anthropomorphism that makes this girl smile almost as much as an unexpected spotting of the Goodyear Blimp.  It’s the day I wait for every year with nervous, eager anticipation.  A day when an ordinary turning left at the Convention Center brings with it the most incredible sights of fluffy tails, fuzzy ears, and horny mascots. Yes, dear reader.  I’m talking about Anthrocon.   The three days each year when thousands of men and women emerge from the confines of their parents’ basements to proudly display the labors of their polyfill love, discuss topics such as costume design, the role of Furries in the media, Furry dinner table etiquette, and (of course) being a Christian Furry, and then retire to their four-star suites at the William Penn to…..well, I prefer to think they play Mah Johng and watch Thundercats marathons.

For those of you who don’t know what Anthrocon is, it’s the annual convention of the Furries that takes place at the Convention Center in Pittsburgh each June.  For those of you who don’t know what a Furry is, I suggest reading this excellent brochure.  For those of you wondering why Furries are relevant to this blog, educate yourselves. Now if you’re wondering if I have ever personally been to Anthrocon, I can assure you, no.  Not yet.  Will I ever become a Furry?  Most decidedly never.  Except for the one day this year when I might.

Having explained the Furrydom relevancy here, I must humbly take some of the credit for its prominent role in Kyle’s novel.  As memory serves, Kyle was among the fortunate ones out there who thought that Furries only existed in some sort of mythical MTV Sex 2K/HBO Real Sex reality – and episodes of Entourage.  I, too, was a member of this naïve group of luckies until that fateful day three years ago when I turned left at the Convention Center and landed right smack into the middle of a gathering herd of pale and socially awkward supercolliders sporting cat ears and beaver tails.  I was stunned immobile and speechless.  This was well beyond the Wholey’s bear.  This was a galaxy far, far away from my comfort zone.

And such was my first close encounter with the Furries and my reaction has been exactly the same each year since.  As the three days of the Con progress, the costumes only become more elaborate and less breathable, culminating in what I can only guess is a costume competition of sorts on the final day.  This I gather because, well duh, Comicon always holds its costume contest on the last day of the convention.  Despite the oddity and the sometimes ick-factor of Anthrocon, I never grow tired of the acid-trip fuzz parade of lovable critters.

Last year, in my excitement to share the news and joy of Anthrocon with Kyle, I texted him of its arrival immediately after turning left and, yet again, having my mind blown.  Having almost no concept of what I was talking about, Kyle spent a good part of that day researching the subculture of these creatures.  So incredibly fascinated by this breed of homo sapiens, he decided to write several of them into his novel.  Unfortunately, he had to fly out of Pittsburgh the next day and never had the divine experience of witnessing the Furries firsthand.

And as luck would have it, this year he will be on the so-called “long” walk over the weekend of June 25th, when our rabid friends come to town.  Because we all know that Kyle is a man who demands authenticity in his work, and seeing as how I’m sort of responsible for this synthetic subplot (to some extent) I am taking one for the team and making it my mission to collect intel for him this June.  Taking pictures of the mythos is more difficult than you would imagine.  UNLESS, however, you yourself are in costume!  Which leads me to my plan.  I’m going to don some fuzzy ears – or possibly a batgirl mask – and plant myself right in the middle of the pack.  Maybe I’ll even register for a day and attend a nice seminar on Ewok culture.  I’m going to actually TALK to the Furries this year!  Mingle with them.  Get to know how they live.  It will all be very “Gorillas in the Mist,” except without all the poaching and mysterious murder. 

Plus, I plan to share my adventures in Anthrocon right here with you on What We’ve Got!  So hold on to your teddy bears, kids, cause according to anthrocon.org, we’ve a mere 65 days until I’m going black ops on some human Care Bears.  Anyone know how to sew?

Till next Tuesday!

* This equates to approximately 4-7 days per year.