Donka Doo

Time to take a deep breath and get something off my chest. I am a huge nerd. It feels better to type the words. I have spent the last decade and a half channeling my nerdiness in scholastic pursuits instead of the good old-fashioned comic/rpg/cheesy horror movie variety. Fuck normalcy, I need to go back to my people, my roots. I started to get back in touch a couple weeks ago at the Renaissance Fair, but that doesn't really touch too close to home. I need some real, acid flashback style nerd shit to sink my teeth into. How I ended up at the Donald E. Stephenson Convention Center today, I'm not really sure, though perhaps a jog down memory lane will shine some light.

Like any small boy, I loved me some cartoons and toys. He-Man, Transformers, GI Joes, Battle Beasts- these were the things dreams were made of. Like all dreams, they came to an end, though this one is somewhat more lucid. As elementary school came to a close, I became painfully aware of one thing: playing with toys and watching cartoons isn't cool, and they will do me no favors in meeting girls. Little did I know that the problem with meeting girls had far more to do with things like actually talking to them, but hey, you've got to start somewhere, and it seemed a reasonable enough place. Nevermind the fact that I still participated in boy scouts, and was simply transitioning to harder drugs, namely Warhammer 40,000 and Magic: The Gathering. Did I mention comic books? Yeah throw them in the mix and you have yourself quite the 12 year old ladykiller. It's a fucking miracle that I didn't get mixed up in Battletech, Shadowrun, and Dungeons and Dragons. I really think that it was only an issue of time and money that stopped me where I did. Besides, D&D is for nerds, am I right?

After another 4 or 5 years of feeding these habits, I came to the stark realization that these weren't helping my situation either. Unfortunately, I still hadn't figured out that being cool is fucking stupid, and that there actually are nerd chicks that like this shit. I just needed to crawl out of the basement and find them. The short story is that I have turned my back on these things for the past 15 or so years, half of my life to this point. When the opportunity presented itself to go to the convention, it seemed innocent enough fun, a nice nostalgia trip. But things ain't like they used to be...

My first impression on arriving was that there weren't nearly enough people in crazy costumes. I thought that people watching was half the fun! As it turned out, people watching was still the main attraction, though not as I anticipated. The first section we hit was the celebrity autograph section. To be fair, the term celebrity is being used fairly loosely, as 90% you wouldn't notice on the street at the peak of their success. That is until we made it to the Evil Dead section, and there sat the man, the myth, the legend: Bruce motherfuckin' Campbell. I have never been starstruck before, but that man is a force. I failed to mention that amongst the last of my transitional forms of nerdhood involved watching the shittiest forms of horror movies after the half-time of each West High football games (we would invariably be getting stomped). Evil Dead had been calling for a while, and when we finally popped it in the VCR, it was life-changing. Needless to say, Evil Dead II and Army of Darkness were on tap for the following 2 weeks, and the rest is history. Anyhoo, the main attraction today was a Q&A session with the entire cast of the first film, and the entire 45 minutes was a laugh riot. I even got to ask the almighty Bruce a question (and fucked up by the way, confusing the opening scene of Evil Dead II with the end of the first movie. I need to cut a corner off my nerd card).

The point that I lost track of: the people watching. It is more of a pseudo-celebrity petting zoo. Watch Tia Carrera look bored out of her mind and text some random person! Pity Ed Furlong as he looks bedragled as he crawls out of a sewer after shooting some smack (allegedly)! Marvel at the poor state of the Million Dollar Man! Watch a full-grown Augustus Gloop eat Jimmy Johns in a funny looking jacket that looks three sizes too small! This side-show alone is worth the price of admission. These poor has-beens sit around looking for any poor soul to drop $25 for a picture and an autograph, and our hero Bruce Campbell has a line going around the block just to bask in his warmth.

Then there's the rest, namely the product and artist booths. Let me start by saying one thing. This entire debacle seems like it was pulled directly from the ID of my 12 year old self. Toys that I forgot I had are selling for $200. Countless retailers are selling professionally graded copies of Amazing Fantasy #15. Back issues of Playboy from the 1990's are selling for under $10 (maybe I'm starting to wax a little TOO nostalgic...). Which brings me to my next point: there is a disturbingly large quantity of porn at this place. Believe me, in most other contexts this is totally fine, but this is supposed to be a flashback to my awkward teen years, but this is a detail that could be left out. Anyone who knows me probably is aware that I'm anything but a bible thumper, but I kid you not that they set up a 3-D boobie magazine booth directly adjacent to a Christian comic book seller (complete with innocent children appropriately looking weirded out). It couldn't even be avoided when sifting through bootleg obscure horror movie DVD's (though I guess this shouldn't be too much of a shocker). It took about 10 seconds of walking through the artist booths as to why this is the case. There are TONS of pervy fan pictures of comic chicks in various positions that range from mildy titilating to somewhat disturbing. I have seen the heart of the average comic book fan, and there are a lot of strange things floating around in these people's heads. To think that if I kept up that I might be one of them.

Still, I'll probably go back next year...