My Nerdoir

A nerdy, New Wave kid in East Texas during the 1980s.

Tag: sciencefiction

My Frakkin’ Goth Night – Battlestar Galactica at a Goth Club

by Jeff

Episode 11: Shore Leave – Nerdy Spring Breakout

by Jeff

I.

“There’s a call to adventure. It’s something in the inner psyche of humanity…”
Gary Gygax, co-creator of Dungeons and Dragons

I’m slowly crawling down a dark hallway, flat against the pristine beige carpet while attempting to move silently and hide in the shadows. I hold my breath as I slide towards the door of the master bedroom that rests slightly ajar, like two perfectly poised lips, open and waiting to either kiss you or scream in terror. The bedroom light peeks out through the crack, creeping across the hallway and reflecting twenty years of family photos that line the passage. I imagine the stoic judgment of these frozen witnesses watching a costumed stranger attempt to escape their otherwise ideal home. Two generations perfectly coiffed and documented, proving that within this suburban ranch house resides another upstanding Texas family. As I glide past the off-white bedroom door, I sense movement within, but I’m too afraid to sneak a glance where I might glimpse a strange woman in her early 40s, so similar to my mom as she goes through her nightly ritual applying mysterious lotions and creams before settling down to sleep. I am worried that if I see her, she will sense my glance and look around alarmed.

I remind myself that this suburban Texas ranch house has the customary central air-conditioning blasting throughout, creating both a low ambient roar to help muffle the sounds of my escape, as well as maintaining an artificially stable environment. Like my parent’s giant refrigerator, it is as if everything in the house is organic and fragile, waiting to crumble and rot from the slightest change. If sweating were an Olympic event, I’d easily win the gold medal, so I’m also grateful I won’t nervously drip my makeup off along this journey. I try to resign myself that if I’m caught and arrested, or more likely shot on sight, at least I’ll die looking good. My friend Mike is also there, beside me in the cool darkness as we attempt our great escape. We successfully make our way past the bedroom and continue towards our next challenge: the dark living room, lit up with the bouncing light of a TV being watched from the comfortably clueless, plump suburban dad. How did two nerds looking for spring break excitement end up in this predicament?

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We Are Spock – Remembering Leonard Nimoy

by Jeff

“Spock: Do you believe in the concept of service to mankind?

Nimoy: I think so.

Spock: Then perhaps you are here to be of service.”

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“The show has certainly given me a sense of self-worth and particularly the relationship with the character of Mr. Spock has given me a constant guideline for a dignified approach to life as a human being.”
Leonard Nimoy – I am not SPOCK

Spock has been with me for as long as I can remember. Unlike other characters from movies or comics, Spock was someone I identified with from my first encounter, and that impact has never faded. Throughout my childhood, Spock set the standard for how to remain calm in a moment of crisis, especially for an overly sensitive kid. But foremost, he taught me to control my emotions when life seemed overwhelming. To maintain an ability to step back and survey the situation from afar, allowing for a more reasonable judgment. He was also the quintessential outsider, being half Vulcan and half human, never fitting in with his home world, and yet also being an alien on the Enterprise.

I was a sensitive kid in Texas, raised to hunt and kill animals as a rite of passage, so I identified with his struggle. The contrast of growing up obsessed with Disney movies of anthropomorphized animals, yet having to hunt them in real life, was a conflict I could never resolve. Spock at least provided a role model, which was far better than the “pray about it” resolution I was taught at First Baptist Church.

This weekend, on the passing of Leonard Nimoy, I read numerous eulogies, most stating the same thing: that in spite of Spock’s emotional distance, his character was the true heart of Star Trek. I fully agree.

My friend Arlene Martel, the wonderful actress who played Spock's wife T'Pring, gave me this great photo of her leaving the studios where she ran into Nimoy and someone took this great photo.

My friend Arlene Martel, the wonderful actress who played Spock’s wife T’Pring, gave me this great photo of her leaving the studios where she ran into Nimoy.

It’s strange to feel moved by the death of a celebrity. The Spock side of me says, “But Jeff, you didn’t even know Leonard Nimoy. Sure, you have read his memoirs, and you even came close to meeting him, but you didn’t actually know him. Your emotions aren’t logical.” Yet I can’t shake the malaise that has lingered since I woke on Friday with the news of his death. Unlike most celebrities, Leonard Nimoy and Spock are inseparable. He not only played the role, but he also helped develop it over the course of the series. Read the rest of this entry »

Episode 5: Mirror, Mirror – The Path to the Nightcage

by Jeff

I move in slow motion, trapped in the crowd after a concert at Music Hall in downtown Houston. My friends, Michael and Steven, slowly move in syncopation as we awkwardly descend the steps of the balcony, taking tiny steps to assure we don’t kick or trip someone else. I am wearing grey parachute pants, a button down paisley shirt, and black lace-up shoes. The crowd is mostly white and dressed in new wave clothes. I am elated after seeing the Psychedelic Furs, and especially after seeing the remarkable opening act, Talk Talk, but I’m also self-conscious since I’ve realized that parachute pants have become passé. Although my friends and I appear to fit in with the crowd of fans who are mostly older than us in their early 20s, I still feel like an imposter. Damn pants. We move along with the crowd as it shuffles through the tight doors of the theater, and all I see are backs of androgynous people, my vision obscured by masses of hair sticking up, mine included. It is August 3, 1984 and in two weeks I will turn 17.

Yours truly, age 16.

Yours truly, age 16.

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Episode 1: One Way Ticket to Midnight – Discovering Taarna

by Jeff

“He had a strange feeling as the slow gurgling stream slipped by: his old life lay behind in the mists, dark adventure lay in front.”J.R.R. Tolkien – The Lord of the Rings

In 1978, when I started junior high at Southmore Intermediate School in Pasadena, Texas, I never dreamed that over thirty years later my lifelong appreciation for comic books, science fiction, fantasy, and my fellow fans would become a guide to my own adventures. IMG_134023595302473 In 6th grade most teachers seated the students alphabetically, so I quickly noticed a funny kid chatting behind me in every class. I was a skinny, pale kid with glasses, but David Gregg was a taller, impossibly skinny kid with glasses. I’m not sure how we first talked Marvel comics, Star Trek, or Tolkien, but we both had voracious appetites for anything nerdy. David also owned a copy of the Star Trek Concordance by legendary Trekkie, Bio Trimble, with its beautiful die-cut cover, and he had a memory unlike anyone else; an ideal trait for any nerd. He could see a still image from any Trek episode and name the source; with credentials like that, it wasn’t a surprise that we became great friends.

star-trek-concordance-by-bjo-trimbleOver the years I came to regard him as a brother. We would regularly talk on the phone after school, discussing the nuances of things like the new issue of the Fantastic Four, or trying our best at creating our own stories, but always laughing at how silly they seemed in comparison to the books we loved. Like many people involved in fandom, those early teen years were the most formative for my developing interests. It was only a matter of time before I attended my first comic book convention, which was at a convention center near the Astrodome. dome_postcardI don’t remember how David or I heard about the convention, but my mom dropped us off for the day, and later his mom picked us up. This was such a memorable event that I can still recall the dim fluorescent lighting, the musty basement smell, and the chilling air conditioning—a Houston staple. In one room they were showing Star Trek episodes and blooper reels, oddball cartoons, and old science fiction films. The dealer’s room felt like a large basement at a friend’s house, filled with rows of artifacts from alien worlds just waiting to be explored. That hunger for exploration and discovery filled my youth and still drives me. I’m a “digger,” such as in crates for music and books, piles for clothes, and libraries for information.

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