That one time I met my hero, Jono Bacon

Hello hello haroo hoorah,

Good day one and all! I have been working on my science fiction writing lately, but had the urge to write down this story from my past. I thought this was a great time to share some of my work. I also thought it would resonate with this crowd. Please let me know of any comments, questions, and/or concerns below and we’ll see what I can do.

That one time I met my hero, Jono Bacon @jonobacon


It was around the time of my birthday in 2008, and that meant only one thing: Ohio Linux Fest was near. I had gone the previous year and it was every bit as glorious as I had dreamed. As soon as I walked into the hotel and started meeting other attendees I felt like I was home. Throughout the entire weekend everyone was so friendly, so approachable, and so eager to learn and interface with each other. The buzz in the atmosphere was of a decidedly of the geek and nerd dimension which emanated a sense of belonging and kinship. This year was to be no different. In fact, there was a good chance I would get to meet one of my heroes, Jono Bacon, who happened to be giving the closing keynote. There has never been a wiser man when it comes to communitizing the community’s efforts to increase the level of community building both inside and out of your community, utilizing community tools and resources, as well as the community itself, all for the betterment of the community’s ability to be a better community, hoping to one day reach maximum community saturation levels. A wise man indeed.

The festival was fantastic, and Jono’s closing keynote has had a strong impact on my life. Now that the awing and gawking was over with, it was time for the fun to begin. It was time for the after party. As a former United States Marine I can attest that the geeks and nerds at any given Ohio Linux Festival can drink any of the most bad-ass, formidable Marine Corps drinkers under the table – and I knew guys in special forces. The after party is just the start of good times. As the hotel organized bar starts to run out of alcohol and drink tickets run dry, the party goers start to scurry to other places of activity. The one bar open in town was a walk down the street, and some parties were starting in the hotel rooms at the behest of groups or individuals. After that after-after party, those whose bodies were still ready and willing continued to make the above rounds until all but the hardy few had fled to bed. This is usually around the time of about a 10th order after party or so.

It was lucky for me that Jono also smoked cigarettes, and smoking and drinking go hand in hand. It wasn’t long into the evening until our paths crossed at the most holiest of places: the smoke pit; the one place where everyone who is there belongs simply because they are there for two things – to take a break from life to fill their lungs with a relaxing earthy or minty smoke and to chill for a bit. I fairly quickly started following him around like a lost puppy, keeping a fairly close orbit. He didn’t seem to mind. The only time I have laughed as much as I did that night is when I get stoned off my ass and watch Archer. I also think there may have been hookers and blow at some point in one of the hotel rooms, but my memory of that bit is a little fuzzy to be honest. Our little gathering of four or five people was all that was left as the sun was rising and the breakfast buffet was preparing to open.

It was at this point that Jono magnanimously turned to the rest of the group and said in a stately manner: “The presence of so very few at this hour attests to the fact that only the truly brave and devout to the way of the party are able to attain such a feat. We are those few survived the after party, the after-after party, the after-after-after party, and even the after-after-after-after party and beyond.” Or some similar such thing. Then he continued “I thus proclaim us: The Bag of Dicks.” He then went on to enthrall us with the specifics of our particular Bag of Dicks. It was not just your ordinary Bag of Dicks, nay, it was a magical bag, akin to a Bag of Dick Holding. You simply had reach in and the penis you desire would appear in your palm. It was the epitome of penis accessories and accessibility. Whether you wanted a small penis, a large penis, a colorful penis, or an oddly distended, misshapen penis, all you had to do was grab for the Bag. Even if you wanted a good handful of a variety of dicks, that was possible too! Everyone needs something to shove in their mouth from time to time. Those of us standing in that small circle were that Bag of Dicks. I have rarely felt as much honor as I did at that moment. I was not only a member of the same ever elusive, oh-so exclusive, private, secretive group as Jono Bacon, but I was a Founder of the group with him. From that day forward I knew I was destined for greatness.

Shortly after that we all went our separate ways to eat breakfast and prepare for departure. From this encounter I can only conclude one thing:

	Always meet your heroes.

“Jono and a Bag of Dicks” …could actually make a respectable band name :thinking:

Please respect our code of conduct which is simple: don't be a dick.