Video of my Grand Master speech

I tend to think speeches are better witnessed than read (though if you’d like to read it, the transcript is here), so here’s the recording of the speech currently up on YouTube. It’s cued-up to start with my speech, which last about 7 minutes, though of course feel free to watch the whole 2+ hour extravaganza. I don’t know how long the video will stay up on YouTube—maybe forever, maybe just for another couple of weeks. So, y’know, carpe video…

When you watch this, consider that these are not the clothes I thought I’d be wearing. I’d bought a spiffy suit at Nordstrom and had it tailored to fit. This turns out to be a complicated affair for two reasons. One, I’m in a wheelchair, and what looks good standing looks terrible when sitting in wheelchair shape. And two, it was a man’s suit—sold as a suit, not separates. And men are quite differently shaped to women. But the woman who was doing the alterations is a wizard, and understood exactly how to make it all work. She had fixed another jacket for me, and Kelley’s dress—we knew she was good at her job.

But timing was very tight. (Our lives are complicated at the moment—we have no time for anything—but that’s a long story for another time.) So three days before we flew I’d done only a preliminary test-fitting: the jacket was gorgeous, just right, but the pants needed properly finishing, including the hems. But as I say the tailor was very good; I was confident.

Sigh.

We picked up the suit the day before we flew, and there was no time to try it on (there was no time) so we just packed it, assuming all would be well. When we arrived we unpacked it and it was all creased up so we sent it to the hotel’s dry cleaners for pressing etc. Two hours before the banquet I finally tried it on. The jacket: still perfect. The pants: an absolute, unmitigated disaster. You could have fit two of me in them. I looked like a sad clown. Actually, a seriously pissed-off clown, but there was no point dwelling on the problem; we had to find a solution.

Fortunately I had separate linen trousers and knitted silk vest of blues dark enough to look like they matched, and I had that white jacket. So that’s what I wore. As I got dressed I was muttering grumpily but by the time we were going down in the elevator I’d let it go: what I was wearing was just fine. Not fine, as in sharp and sophisticated, but pretty good. And, more to the point, they were old friends: sublimely comfortable. Which in the end is what counts.

All’s well that ends well.

Now I just can’t wait to get hold of that big block of lucite that was too heavy to pack in the luggage for the flight back and finally get a proper look at it!