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The I.G.K. Fifth Symposium Hamburg 1999
Don McLean's Diary
Wallace in Wunderland: Part II
The Room at the Top of the Stairs


Perhaps, having suddenly been thrown into a room full of strangers made it easier to sense the general warmth and receptiveness I detected in the upper room at the Hamburg Schachklub. Despite a creeping exhaustion, I felt as though I had somehow hit the mark and with Sitting Bull's blessings, I was soon engrossed in conversation with Mike Pennell, editor of the British journal, "The Chess Collector".

From our very first encounter at the Schachklub, Ricardo had wasted no time pointing out to me that Mike, a dear friend and trusted associate of his, would be a pivotal figure - someone capable of providing important facts and orientation. "This is the man for you", he had spoken in his deep basso profundus, as he introduced us to each other. The Spanish tinge to his English seemed to throw the weight of additional authority into his words - and I took heed.

The early impression I received of Schachklub members, the many dark suits, the ties and the attaché cases - the serious formality that I had discerned to be the rule, achieved a certain degree of antithesis in Mike. He and I seemed to be the only sweater-clad types in attendance and so I was hardly taken aback to discover a man who's effortless conversation and easygoing manner put me totally at ease.

Ready, willing and able to address as many questions as I could put to him, in very little time I was more or less up to date on the overall IGK agenda and enthusiastically looking towards the coming day's fare. That much accomplished, I glanced around vacuously as the general meeting formally disbanded, while debating whether or not I was in good enough shape to join a small group of attendees whom, Mike informed me, were preparing to car pool a visit to a local gallery of modern chess-related paintings and lithography.

I tend to ramble aimlessly even when I am NOT in such an utter state of ragged disrepair. Almost single-handedly, I have elevated "nattering" to a high art! The more the numbness, the more the nattering - so, while in the midst of deciding out loud whether or not to attend this artistic interlude in the IGK journey, or to succumb to the siren call of hotel comforts, I found myself divulging a good portion my life story to Mr. Pennell. I could not have picked a more tolerant and understanding listener. From my point of view at least, we had hit it off quite well. Of course I was slightly shamed at my own pugnacity as I began at the beginning and blathered recklessly on and on about how I had arrived, by long and circuitous means, to the website that I was now representing at the IGK meeting in Europe.

I am afraid that I took Mike on quite a ramble, speaking of personal events that had occurred years before - of how I had "burned out" performing a job in community service and then, while attempting to hold on to this position past the point of common sense, stood rooted on the sidewalk with dozens of other astounded onlookers, as, one April night, my place of work, (a church annex that had long been the local center of youth activities and which was no more than a few doors from my own apartment) burned almost to the ground on the eve of my 44th. birthday.

It turned out to be as much a birthday candle as it was the light at the end of a long tunnel. Although we did succeed in resurrecting the agency from the ashes, I sensed that a corner had been turned. So, with the future up for grabs, I opted to take an unconditional release from all the customary cares of the workaday world in order to see what I could make of an emancipated creative spirit. Naturally, I had to re-discover and dust it off a bit. It was a little like handling like a charred icon that had been forced back into the shadows for many years - subordinate to such things as pragmatism, accountability, a full fridge, a pension plan - all those important things that seem to take ruthless precedence on the alter of most people's lives.

Now this event may have seemed totally disconnected to most, but throughout, I sensed that Mike had caught my drift - beheld the pattern as I did - even as I moved on to explain how the events that had led to my unemployment had also contributed to some equally unheralded literary output as well as the unexpected series of engagements which somehow goaded my eventual introduction into the wacky world of cyberspace, the Weave and Goddesschess.

Even as I divulged all these many details, I felt a resonance and special form of understanding taking place between myself and this absolute, total stranger. I could sense more than the usual empathy as I wound through my tale. However, now thoroughly exhausted in the telling of it, it appeared likely that I would have to forego an unexpected invitation to visit the artist's studio and gallery. Fortunately, Frau Elke Rehder and I did have the opportunity to chat both in and outside the Schachklub, and got on quite amiably during the brief moments we spent together. Less fortunately, however, I chose that juncture to remind myself that I had not slept for almost 24 hours. The thought was narcotic in itself. I feared I might be due to collapse at any moment and therefore deemed it best to err on the side of caution, choosing instead to grope my way back my hotel room at the Ibis, rather than take a chance at dozing off, like a Dormouse, in the home of a complete stranger, in a strange city, at a strange hour.

The solitary walk back to the Ibis was full of little intrigues, as I took note of my new and unfamiliar surroundings. On Wandsbecker Strasse, the industrious hustle and bustle of the local population was apparent. This was not the sleepy German town I had taken it for. Far from it! Of course it might have been difficult for me to tell whether it was the traffic which had picked up to an incredibly fast pace, or just a sleepy traveller who had slowed to an almost sluggish one.

In any case, local shop windows were already taking on their pre-Christmas appearances, and yet, even these seasonal decorations could not obscure the fact that German Kunst or handcrafted goods were everywhere to be found. As I was to discover during later downtown excursions, this unique marriage of the practical and the artistic was something that Germans took special pride in creating. In fact, not only did the City of Hamburg give the impression of being a huge city-scale museum in and of itself, but, with few exceptions, every store seemed to have on display some unusually fine (and expensive) type of merchandise.

Naturally, there were the requisite Burger Kings and Macdonald's, although these seemed to have been cleverly integrated into the local face of things. To my total relief, I was glad to see that there were no huge golden arches or other such eyesores decorating the streets of Hamburg. Indeed, who would even want to set foot into such places when one could purchase delicious sausages and pastries from local stores and street vendors, a habit which I quickly acquired and indulged from time to time during my week long stay.

I continued along the Wandsbecker Strasse, dipping into the Geldautomat to refresh my wallet and trying my luck in a few of the local computer stores as I sought out information about local Internet cafes. It was only a matter of time before I would have to locate some on-line convenience in order to forward my logistics to Patton and the rest of the gang at Goddesschess, so, I plied the Strasse in hopes I might make myself understood to one of the sales clerks. After a few aborted attempts at explaining my predicament in both English and French, I did finally succeed in making my needs known to one congenial gentleman, who scribbled down the address of a downtown public Internet service - one located right in the heart of the city, just opposite the major subway terminal of Hofbhanhof. With that scrap of paper in hand I then proceeded to the hotel, where, in the lobby, I came face to face with Carmen and Ricardo.

Though somewhat dazed, I did manage to converse briefly and tentatively accepted their invitation to join them later on for supper. I explained that I would try to make this meeting, although, for the moment, my priority was to rest and reset my mental gyros before taking on the town. After exchanging room numbers, we parted company and I traipsed up to my first floor room and proceeded to unpack, organize, shower and get horizontal.

During the third hour of what was to be only a little nap, the phone rang in my room. At first I didn't recognize the "Euro" sounding ring and it took several before I lifted up the receiver and croaked a questioning "hello"!? It was Carmen inviting me out to supper with herself and Ricardo. Although I dearly wanted to join them, I was still in no shape to do much more than sleep and so, with profuse apologies I regretfully declined.

Hours later, at 10:30 p.m. Hamburg time, rested and refreshed, I sauntered apprehensively past the elevator doors and into the foyer of the Ibis, where I immediately spied a gaggle of chess hounds seated at a nearby table. Ricardo, Carmen, Ken Whyld, Tom Thomsen and Mike Pennell were all gathered there, no doubt discussing whatever it is that chess experts discuss. Once again, I was prevented from joining them for any length of time as I had an important and pressing engagement with whatever restaurant I could track down in the adjacent mall area. Reluctantly, I excused myself and made my way to a local Thai eatery where the food was neither fast nor particularly Thai.

Returning once again to the Ibis, I was pleased to see that Ricardo, Mike, Tom and Ken were still conversing at the table where I had left them. At last I would have the opportunity to meet them in a proper state of mind and body. Although Carmen had already turned in for the night, these very clever and well spoken gentlemen made me feel quite welcome in their company, as we joked and talked informally for about a half-hour before Ken and Tom excused themselves. Ricardo lingered but for a few moments afterwards and so, German beer in hand, I found myself engaged once again in an animated one on one conversation with Mike Pennell.

While I will not go into any great detail about what it was Mike and I discussed that night, suffice to say that the topics were not trivial and comprised a thread of substance that I found of great importance to me personally, insofar as it involved not only a fractal of my own personal genesis though the game of chess, but also contained elements of esoterica that touched on Chess, the Goddess and Everything as well.

By the time we wrapped it up, in the wee hours of the morning, I had no doubt that Mr. Mike Pennell was most definitely a man after my own heart and could prove a valuable associate for the Goddesschess group in general. Ricardo was very correct, for, as I discovered, not only was Mike well versed in the Gospel of Experience, but in addition, he also entertained a considerable passion for the theme of women and their involvement in the game. I was also pleased to note that his interest in chess as an educative device mirrored my own. He referred me to the project undertaken by The American Chess Federation in Harlem, New York City, where chess is currently being used as a focus for the development of concentration and other significant skills among a particularly underprivileged population.

It has been my experience that two things, the study of chess and of music, had helped me immeasurably when I was a youngster and that my increased ability to maintain focus for long periods of time were a result of these hobby undertakings. I often wondered if others had discovered the practical spin-offs that could occur through the use of chess as a focal point for so many important learnings and so it was profoundly reassuring to hear Mike's agreement in this matter.

In any case, Mike stuck it out with me for a number of hours - applying his considerable wisdom to the conversation as we explored a rather vast range of chess topics and related issues. Mathematics, mysticism, symbolic representationalism flowed as freely as the beer. I sat there listening and longing for a small tape recorder that would have captured the ebb and flow of our discussion, yet, oddly pleased that I was not engaged in some snoopy journalist's activity. It would have seemed an infringement on the intimacy that was somehow generated through this encounter. All the same, by the time (2:00 a.m.) we had come to the end of our thread, I felt as though I had received a series of important confirmations, not only with regards to some highly personal issues, but also on behalf of the Goddesschess initiative.