The title, the first two lines and indeed the idea for the filk in the first place are all Phil Allcock's fault. We were listening to Dr Jane's "Fossil Fever" tape (available from all good filk stockists) when he came out with the lines, then looked at me evilly and said "Of course, you ought to write this one." Ever willing to oblige...
I'd've been happy just goofing off,
Had no desire to be a SMOF
But my fan friends they blew their cool,
Put a bid in the Eastercon pool
Good times, all gone;
Things ain't the same since we won the con!
I feel awful, my throat is dry,
Got this receipt book and I don't know why.
Last night we had a great party,
But why the hell did they pick on my?
Good times, all gone;
Things ain't the same since we won the con!
I can't hack this concom at all.
Committee meetings are a real bore.
Then I'm expected to do some work;
It makes me feel like a real jerk.
Good times, all gone;
Things ain't the same since we won the con!
Even cons ain't fun anymore
Running condesks is a real chore.
My friends are in the pool I bet;
It's hard to write when your receipt book's wet!
Good times, all gone;
Things ain't the same since we won the con!
So here we are, takin' over the fans
With nervous breakdowns and shakin' hands.
Chasin' fans of every kind -
I wish the chairman would make up his mind!
Good times, all gone;
Things ain't the same since we won the con!
So we lie here like burnt-out logs,
A far cry from our local clubs
Dreamin' of the days long gone
When we were big fish in little ponds.
Good times, all gone;
Things ain't the same since we won the con!
SMOF: Secret Master of Fandom. A term
colloquially applied to persistant convention runners, who therefore aren't
very secret and certainly aren't masters, but what the heck.