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Remember the Hyatt

Lyrics ©1981 by Bill Roper and Clif Flynt
Music: "No Quarter", Juanita Coulson


In order to try out the Hyatt Regency Chicago in advance of the impending Chicon, the overlapping committees had decided to hold WindyCon there to get a feel for how it worked. The Worldcon was already coming to Chicago, so the experience was going to be valuable.

There were a few problems, not the least of which was the con was in December instead of October. And Clif took the brunt of several of them. So we wrote this song.

And performed it as the halftime entertainment at the Masquerade. Mike Glyer fell off his chair laughing. He'd never heard a committee getting roasted from it's own stage before, it seems.

Later, Ross got his revenge by roping me into working on cons here in Chicago.

Am                                 G         Am
Suck 'em in, suck 'em in, said the Chicon committee.
Am                                 G          E
We will sell them a badge, we must sell every one.
           Dm         Am              Dm      Am
Though the con's in December, they'll never remember  
Am                              G              Am
Once Christmas is over, they'll think they had fun.

	Am                               G
	If the Hyatt don't fill up, they won't tear our bill up,
	       Am                         G             Am
	But if we make our block, we will get damn good rates.
	     Dm           Am             Dm             Am
	Ross Pavlac, Curt Clemmer, Larry Propp, and the Passovoys  
	E
	Should know better.
	       Am                 G
	It can never be run by as few fen as these:
	  Am        G         Am         G
	A doctor, a lawyer, a filker, an aardvark,
	    Am           G          Am          G
	And half of your gofers are lost in the car park!
	       Am                    G          Am
	And if Windycon crashes, how can Chicon fly?

The art show, the art show, where the hell is the art show?
Beyond registration, just look for the line.
The flats still aren't standing, the artists demanding
Their art must be hung up before check-out time.

Larry Propp, Larry Propp, what is Larry Propp doing?
It seems that he's singing the same tired song.
He's at registration, giving misinformation.
It seems everything Pavlac told him was wrong.

Curt Clemmer, Curt Clemmer, what happened to Clemmer?
The program book don't have his name on the list.
From Strekcon's he's learnin', his bridges ain't burnin'.
If his name isn't there, then perhaps he'll be missed.
										
Ross Pavlac, Ross Pavlac, oh where is Ross Pavlac?
When membership slumped, he was media's friend.
The Galaxatives found him, in the fountain they've drowned him.
I doubt if he'll even watch Star Trek again.

The panels, the panels, where the hell are the panels?
The con suite, the hucksters, the rest of the fen?
The gamers cut capers with sheets of graph paper.
They're mapping the halls out for dungeons again.

	If the Hyatt don't fill up, they won't tear our bill up,
	But if we make our block, we will get damn good rates.
	Ross Pavlac, Curt Clemmer, Larry Propp, and the Passovoys  
	Will learn better.
	It can never be run by as few fen as these:
	A doctor, a lawyer, a filker, and aardvark,
	And half of your gofers still lost in the car park!
	With luck we will find them before Labor Day.