Costume Fails

The 2012 New York Comic Con is coming up, and by "coming up" I of course mean in two months. That may not seem around the corner-ish to you Muggles, but for we geeks that's practically tomorrow.

Thing is, October is generally a busy month for me. I've got my son the Juban Princeling's birthday on the 8th, my husband's birthday on the 17th, my brother Mr. Funny's birthday on the 22nd, and Halloween on the 31st. (I guess technically we all have Halloween on the 31st. But I like it more than you do, probably.)

That's two things I need costumes for: NYCC and Halloween. 

Halloween is easy. My friend NoLa does a theme party, and even if she craps out on the party I still make us dress up for it. Last year she used the excuse of having "foot surgery" and "not being able to walk" for "10 weeks" as her excuse not to create a space alien theme party, but I still made the Princeling dress up as a spooky alien, because do you know how hard it is to find a space alien costume for a 3-year old? Surprisingly hard. But it paid dividends in cuteness:

"I'm a spooooooky alien!"

This year her theme is Classic Haunted House, though she's threatened to crap out on me again. Doesn't matter. I already have our costumes: we're going as the ghosts of a family who drowned in the Gowanus Canal. Body glow paint will be employed, as well as our masks from Sleep No More:

"MacBeth hath murdered sleep!"

So, Halloween is covered.

My problem is what to wear for NYCC.

NYCC does a Family Day, and I want to take the Princeling for his first ever geek con. One year they had the New York Jedi Academy - yes, that's a thing - train younglings on how to use light sabers. If they do that this year I may actually drop dead of happiness. But I've been racking my brain for good mother-son costumes for us. The problem is that most mothers in fantasy and sci-fi are either dead or bat-shit crazy. Some ideas I've had for us, but had to dismiss:

• Joffrey and Cersei (My son will be 4, and I know I'll end up having to schlep around the head on a pike when he gets tired of it.)
• Superman and his Kryptonian mother, blown to smithereens (too depressing for a 4-year old)
• Spiderman and whatever happen to his mother (ditto)
• Harry Potter and Ghost Lily Potter (super ditto)
• Spock and Winona Ryder (seeing a pattern, yet?)
• Luke Skywalker and Padme Amidala (I cannot pull off a white bodysuit) (no, not even a little bit)

Maybe we can do Wesley Crusher and Dr. Crusher? I already have the red hair. All I'd need is the blue ST: TNG body suit (still more flattering than Padme Amidala's), a tricorder, and a poorly hidden lust for Jean-Luc Picard. Like that would be so hard.

Ideas? What sort of family/parent-child/group costumes have you all done?

Getchur Geek On

I cannot believe I have not written about New York Comic Con yet!

It's been four whole days since I was there, and yet my blog remains void of any mention of NYCC. For shame, self.

So, er, on Sunday, my brother Mr. Funny, and I went to New York Comic Con 2011. It was awesomesauce, or whatever the kids are saying these days. We would have liked to have gone all four days of the con - as we geeks in the know call conventions - but alas, he had work and I have a three year old who naps in the middle of the day and also isn't as into the Star Wars movies as his cousin Rudy, Jr. is. (I'm not saying I feel competitive with my cousin Rudy over this or anything, but when his little boy - who is the same age as my son, the Juban Princeling - referred to "Empire Strikes Back" as "The Ton-Ton Movie," I seethed with envy. Now, my son is my son and I love him as-is, but I'll admit here that I might love him slightly more if he did something adorable and geeky like that and just once asked to watch "The Ton-Ton Movie" instead of "Yo Gabba Gabba.")

Also, cons cost money, both to attend, and while you are there. The Jacob K. Javitz Center here in New York, which plays host to NYCC, charges an arm, a leg, and a kidney for the grub in the food court (no joke: my lunch of 3 chicken fingers plus a handful of sad french fries, plus a small soda and a mini chocolate bar, came out to $15 and change), and then there's all the geek crap you have to buy. YES, YOU HAVE TO BUY GEEK CRAP. YOU JUST DO, OK? Mr. Funny walked out of that con $50 poorer, but the proud owner of a Mr. Spock-inspired bathrobe. It's about quality of life, people. Try to keep up.

We chose to go on Sunday because there were two panels I wanted to attend: the Geek Parenting Panel, and We're No Angels: Leading Ladies of SF/F. Actually, honestly, I felt like I had to attend the Leading Ladies panel because it featured Patricia Briggs and Kim Harrison, both of whom I've read and both of whom I adore and want to stalk a little bit. 

When we got to the con, my brother made a comment to the effect of, seeing people in costumes we don't recognize makes us feel less geeky. And that's pretty much how I felt at the Geek Parenting panel. It was good times for sure, and gave me lots of food for thought - I'll never buy a pre-packaged costume for the Princeling again, I promise - but I went in thinking we were all going to discuss methods of slipping more Star Wars-themed media into our children's lives, and whether or not we should show the series to them in order of when the movies were released versus their chronological order (I vote the former). Alas, silly Mer. That's not what the Geek Parenting panel was about at all. Most of the other geek parents in the room - the overwhelming majority, in fact - were avid comic book readers and/or role-play-gamers, or RPGs. I...have never picked up a comic in my life, except for when I dated that idiot in college who read them and I had to step over them to get into his room. I've also never played an RPG. Once in a while when we're watching "The Guild," my husband will causally suggest we try out World of Warcraft, to which I respond it's not like I've got tons of free time on my hands and need something new to occupy my life. Besides, thanks to "The Guild" we know how real gamers feel about "casuals," which is pretty much all we could be.

So, I felt slightly inadequate at that panel, geek-wise, but at least I learned that certain RPGs are actually good for kids and help children and teens build worlds and tell stories, so that once day if the Princeling decides he's into it, I'll be prepared.

The Leading Ladies panel was also informative, for wholly different reasons. As a writer, getting to hear Patty & Co. wax eloquent on subjects like writing discipline, world-building, faith in yourself as a writer, and publishing myths, made me want to come home, lock myself in a room, and finish my damn novel already. Which I've been mostly doing all week, when I'm not picking my son up from school, spending quality time with him so he doesn't turn into a recluse, feeding myself and/or my family, seeing a chiropractor for my sciatica pain, or sleeping. And, I'm pleased as punch to report that I managed to finally break away from my habit of acting like a total jackass in front of famous people I love, and actually said hello to Patricia Briggs and told her what a fan I am, and she did not seem scared or weirded out by me. That's progress.

My inspiration.
Photo copyright: http://mimg.ugo.com/200902/20522/alien.jpg

Mr. Funny, for once, did not attend the con in costume, but I did. I needed something to go with my pregnancy, and there's not a whole heck of a lot out there in genre-land. The night before the con my husband and I worked on attaching the head, arms, and upper torso of an alien from the "Alien" movies onto either my baby bump or a t-shirt, but the thing was just too damn heavy and kept flopping down. And here I bought an ounce of stage blood for it and everything. Instead, I put on one of my husband's grey undershirts, and then one of his black tank tops, and my army green cargo pants, and went as Sharon from "Battlestar Galactica." I kept rubbing my belly at the con hoping someone would get it, but no one did. Sad face. And it wasn't until the Leading Ladies panel that I even saw another BSGer. We gave each other mutual props. 

What I actually went as. Or, tried to. Not shown: Sharon's baby bump.
Photo copyright: http://www.thescifiworld.net/interviews/grace_park_01.htm

In all, the con was amazing, and I'm glad we went. Maybe next year we'll go for two days so we have time to go to more panels.

I came home with a bag full of swag, including a Lego Transformer for the Princeling, courtesy of the Geek Parenting panel, a Peter Parker/Spiderman mask he hates, and a Stormtrooper coloring sheet he ignored. But I also spent $8 to buy him a little plush Ewok - shut up, my son is 3, I'm not about to buy him pointy-toothed Chewbacca - which he LOVES. He's been a little scared of monsters lately, so I told him the Ewok is a protective Ewok that will look after him when he sleeps. He even asked me to tell him a story about the Ewok, so I did:

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, there was a place called Endor. And in that place lived the Ewoks. And they were furry and small and sweet and wore clothes. So once day, some monsters came and wanted to build a weapons system on Endor, [Princeling: "What's that?" Me: *ignoring and continuing*] but the Rebels, lead by Luke and Leia, went to Endor to fight the monsters. And the Ewoks helped the rebels! They helped protect Luke and Leia and the other Rebels! That's what Ewoks do, they help people against the monsters. And so the Rebels won and the monsters ran away and everyone was super happy. The end.

We may not read comics or play RPGs, and my son may not know his TIE-fighters ("twin ionic engine," don't test me) from his X-Wings just yet, but that kid loves him some protective little Ewok toy. It's a start.

Forgiving Brent Spiner

For seventeen years now my family has been deeply devoted to an angry - and mostly* one-sided - feud with Brent Spiner, "Star Trek: The Next Generation"'s Lt. Cmdr. Data.

It all started 17 years ago when my then-14 year old brother, Mr. Funny, went to a Star Trek convention in Miami dressed as Data. It being 1994 and me being a high school senior, I had nothing better to do that weekend than apply my brother's makeup for him. Brent Spiner spoke at this particular con, and called my brother up for an impromptu photo op, because there's nothing cuter than a pup-sized fan in cosplay. He promised that if Mr. Funny sent him the photo, he would autograph it and send it back. A nice fan took my brother's address and sent him an 8 x 10 color photo:

Makeup courtesy of Meredith Morgenstern's Fantastic
Sci-Fi Makeup Studio. Brent Spiner's pants courtesy of a
serious Fashion Don't.

My brother sent it on to Brent Spiner.

Who never sent it back, autographed or otherwise.

I realize that Brent Spiner was at the pinnacle of his "ST:TNG" career at the time, but really? REALLY? He didn't have two seconds to autograph this photo, which he promised he'd do, and then have one of his assistants mail it to us? Did he think we'd be impressed by that, like all, "Ooooh, that Brent Spiner! He's too busy and cool and douchey to keep his promise to a little fanboy! We love him and should name our guinea pigs after him!"

Well, Brent Spiner, WE WERE NOT IMPRESSED.

Ever since, my family has collectively shaken our fist at the Heavens and spat curses upon the name Brent Spiner.

Fast forward several years, through Lewinskygate, Y2K, the 2000 Subway World Series, 9/11, a new Pope, Hurricane Katrina, the rebooting of the Batman franchise, and the 2008 Presidential Elections, to 2011. Like the Montagues and the Capulets at the end of "Romeo and Juliet,"** our long-standing, multi-generational feud has come to an end, albeit one a little happier than those stupid Renaissance teenagers.

A friend of my brother's - by way of their wives, who are friends - happens to live in Ye Olde England, which is why I'm going to call him Sir Brit. Sir Brit recently attended a major sci-fi con over there across the pond, where a certain Brent Spiner happened to be speaking and giving autographs. Sir Brit, knowing the sad saga of my brother's failed attempt to get his own photo signed by Brent Spiner, acquired himself a standard-issue publicity photo. But here's the best part:

Sir Brit told Brent Spiner the story, and Brent Spiner not only autographed the publicity shot for my brother, but he apologized!

Seventeen years in the making.

But, as Inigo Montoya famously said at the end of "The Princess Bride" (greatest movie ever ever ever ever EVER***), "I've been in the revenge business so long, I don't know what to do with the rest of my life." Now that we are no longer coming together as a family over our hatred of Brent Spiner, what do we do with ourselves? Find someone new to collectively hate? To whom will my poor mother spew her venom now? What will my brother long wistfully for at each upcoming Star Trek con? Whose pants can I make fun of now? Won't someone please think of the children???

Sir Brit also (very nicely) sent me an autographed photo of Alex Kingston as River Song in the most recent season of "Doctor Who." But she autographed it as Alex Kingston, not River Song. Maybe I can hate her for that? No? Oy.

*completely

**if the Capulets had no idea the Montagues even existed

***that is, the greatest STAND-ALONE movie ever ever ever ever ever EVER. Of course, "Star Wars" wins greatest series of movies ever ever ever ever EVER.

Halloween 2010

My friend NoLa had a big Halloween bash yesterday. The theme was Creepy Carnival, and she - along with her pal Cali - went all-out creating a huge set, complete with music, and everyone in appropriate carnival-esque costumes.

I had volunteered the Lopez family to go as the Freak Show, with my son, the Juban Princeling, as the Tattooed Baby, my husband as the Bearded Lady, and myself as the Two-Headed Woman. Alas and alack, October kicked my ass and I never really got around to creating our costumes.

Note to self: next year have all costumes DONE and READY TO WEAR by the end of September.

Instead, like the slacker loser that I am, I went to the neighborhood costume shop and bought us a family's worth of Star Wars-inspired costumes:

Help me, Juban-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.

My brother went as Mr. Spock. Because our family is nothing if not geek-tastic.

May the Force be with you and prosper.

Before heading out, Husband and I took the Princeling trick-or-treating for the very first time. I bought him a 99-cent Star Wars-themed bag, and we stayed in our building. Even with just six floors and four apartments per floor the kid still made out like a bandit, especially considering we went trick-or-treating at 3pm, a time when most families were either watching football or still getting into their own costumes. More than one of my neighbors had to open their brand-new bags of candy for my son's benefit. But everyone was tickled by my little miniature Obi Wan Kenobi, and the Princeling enjoyed knocking on doors. He was too shy to say, "Trick or treat!" to anyone, but not too shy to take the proffered candy.

What disappointed me about this Halloween, besides disappointment in myself for not keeping up with NoLa's Creepy Carnival theme, was the number of little boys dressed in costumes from the new Clone Wars cartoon who did not recognize me as one of their own. One little boy said, "Star Wars rules!" or something as we passed him, and all the grown-ups got it, but more than one boy dressed as an Imperial Storm Trooper walked right past me without so much as a "We have orders from Lord Vader!" I even said to one of them, "Oh no! Don't arrest me!" and he looked at me like I just spoke in ancient Babylonian to him.

Now that Halloween 2010 is behind us it's time to start thinking about Halloween 2011...