Speak Out With Your Geek Out

This week is Speak Out With Your Geek Out week in which everyone is invited to share their "geek-out," by telling others via blog, Twitter, Facebook, etc. what your fandom, interests, or hobbies are and, to share them with the community at large. Also, to express what those things, and being a geek, mean to you. The purpose is to inspire, encourage, get others enthusiastic, and to be a role model. I will do my best on those, and please dear reader, be patient, for this will be one of my longer posts.

Volunteering

My interests in the geek community largely revolve around volunteering. This is because that once I get really interested in something, it's difficult for me to only go part way. Let's take reading for example. If I'm enjoying a book, I will look into information about the author, other works they have done, character analysis, literary discussions, and perhaps suggestions of other titles I might like that relate to this one. Certainly, I take my reading seriously. This could be largely in part to my education, or perhaps just an obsession. Hard to say.

But back to volunteering. In 1999, I went to a new fan-run convention called CONvergence. When I went there with a group of friends, I had never heard of Minicon (what CONvergence spun-off from), the Minnesota Science Fiction Society, or conventions like this at all. It is possible I lived under a rock. But during that weekend in 1999, I realized one thing. There are others like me that enjoy this sort of thing. At the time, and even now, I couldn't quite place what "this sort of thing" was. CONvergence to an outsider is difficult to describe unless one truly knows conventions. A convention consists of a gathering of like-minded individuals, but doesn't always include the same aspects. At this particular convention, there are parties, mainstage shows, a masquerade, panels, and an art show, to name a few attractions. I don't believe I got around to everything, but of what I did see, I thoroughly enjoyed. I think what interested me was that everything was different. It wasn't reliant on pop-culture or mainstream media. It was odd and tastefully so. And there was such a grand sense of community. The "one of us" group-think is common at any type of convention, but since it was my first time experiencing it, it was an amazing thing to be a part of.

My life went on and I went to every subsequent CONvergence held. In 2002, I began volunteering for the convention as a photographer and have done so every year since, and now am the co-head of the Photography department, which had become its own a few years in. I love going to CONvergence and watching others have the same attitude that I did upon walking into the convention for the first time. I love seeing the faces that express "Holy crap... I'm not alone..." I live for that, and truly, it's why I go back every year. To watch and cultivate the fandom of others. And CONvergence is a convention for all types of fandom. Movies, anime, art, science, projects, costuming, writing, etc. The appreciation for all those genres is cultivated and expanded upon there, encouraging others to do the same, whatever their interests.

When CONvergence started, it was run by a society called MISFITS, the Minnesota Interest for Science Fiction and Fantasy. They are now called GPS, or the Geek Partnership Society. This non-profit group was taking the money made from CONvergence and putting it back into the community. Sending kids to space camp, bringing authors, scientists, university programs, and more into under-funded schools and also funding programs that helped our community of geeks share their interests all year long. After Andrew and I moved back to the Twin Cities, we had more opportunities to get involved in our community, including MISFITS/GPS. And as we were getting older, we realized that the most important part of being involved in our community of geeks was indeed giving back to others. I personally felt that my time was more worth while spent with GPS than with CONvergence, though essentially, the two share similar goals. Have fun, make money for literacy for kids. You really can't go wrong there.

In January of 2011, I was named head of Project Lighthouse, the division of GPS that works specifically with bringing educational programs into the schools. My time in this position is short, since I am working on another project for GPS that may prove to expand my talents, but for now I'll keep quiet on that. In volunteering and being a part of this community, I feel so very lucky, and while I'm not religious, I feel that the only way to describe how I feel is blessed, that I have such wonderful people to work with.

Through my CONvergence/GPS and other friends connections, I got involved with another convention called Anime Detour. At first, I was just called in as a favor to help, and then it turned into something else: a personal desire to ensure that the younger generation had a place to go to that was fun and safe. I do like anime, but that's not really why I go. I volunteer with AD because of the people. Once I worked with them, I was hooked. And I've never met a group of people - CONvergence committee or otherwise - who run a convention with such finesse. Especially one with 5000 teenagers. I was so surprised when I started with their committee how they seemed to be so relaxed and still so energized. For a smaller and younger group of people running a larger convention (their weekend population is more than that of CONvergence's), they run it with stride and dedication, and have less of an impetuous belief of entitlement than I've seen in older committees, but then, it's been said that the rewards for AD con-com are also greater.

My volunteerism isn't just linked to geeks and conventions though. Luckily, when Andrew and I moved back in 2007, our jobs working from home afforded us the time to volunteer in other ways. We both helped out at our local high school, tutoring kids who needed support with writing, math, and science. We also became teachers assistants that year, each of us assigned a teacher in a different elementary school to aid. Indeed, it was probably the most meaningful thing both of us did that school year.

But is volunteering truly a "geek-out"? Is it more of an obligation of a citizen to get involved in what he or she cares about simply to make his or her world a better place? I'd rather it be that way, but some take their obligations more seriously than others. I guess I think that if we spend a significant amount of time with something, or care enough, then it is our obligation to help out - with time or money. And volunteering doesn't go unnoticed. Americans are getting more involved, and volunteering isn't something that has to take up all of your time. Just because I let it doesn't mean that less time put in isn't important or rewarded. Every hour and every deed adds up and we as a society can change our world for the better - little by little.

My Other Interests

Aside from keeping myself busy with my local geek community, I have a lot of personal interests that I enjoy all year long. That is, when I have time for them.

• I like sewing and making costumes. I'm very much a novice, but I've enjoyed the few projects I've done.
• I enjoy movies - most kinds, except horror - and go out to see them a lot with Andrew.
• I love renaissance festivals, though mostly because of the costumes and shows. The dirt, spending loads of money, and the drama don't appeal to much.
• I love libraries and visit mine frequently. 
• I read like a fiend.
• I play World of Warcraft. Don't talk to me unless you play Horde. ;-)
• I have a great camera and love photography.
• I like vampire books and shows. I see this more as a weakness.
• I'm intrigued by the Steampunk movement and try to experience it when/where I can.
• I like fast cars, but only in safe controlled environments. Don't tell my husband. 
• I love writing. I am going to be an author. 
• I draw and used to make my own webcomic. 
• I enjoy animation, anime, and cartoons in general. 
• I listen to all sorts of music, but considerably appreciate anything with violins, piano, and bagpipes.
• I like to bake, but I'm not sure I can consider this a fandom...
• I have four American Girl dolls. I love them too.

I'm sure there is a fandom or a group of enthusiasts for almost every one of these. I don't belong to them, but I could if I wanted to. Ah, the magic of the internet and the magic of community!

Since I am supposed to be encouraging, I would encourage anyone - especially younger people - to get involved and do what you like while you can. The younger you start, the more adept you become as you get older. And the more friends you make, which should never be underestimated in importance.

Being a geek, or even just having a "geek-out" that you enjoy, is all about being enthusiastic in what you do, and encouraging others to do the same. It's about friendship, community, and support.

It's doing what you love and letting the rest follow.

Ode to a Car

There are few things I've had in my life (not counting people) for over a decade. That is to say, few things that I've used, for the most part, on a daily basis. And while I don't consider myself a material person, it was clear to me that as the tow truck drove away with my 1995 Ford Taurus that this particular material possession was far more than just a vehicle to me. It was a companion, a friend, for eleven years.

I didn't immediately like the car when it was presented to me in May of 2000. Still upset at the death of my last car, I was being forced to make a quick decision. I was in college and working, and I couldn't go without a car for too long. What made the process easier was that my mom was also buying a car the same weekend as me. Hers was failing and ironically, we both ended up with Fords (hers technically a Mercury, I believe). We purchased our cars from a family friend who was a car dealer. A very nice man named Mike Larkin who had put me in my previous car too, and also tried to teach me how to drive a stick. He had a daughter who went to UWEC like I did, and asked me if I was paying all my parking tickets. UWEC is notorious for it's terrible parking and giving out parking tickets like candy on Halloween. I will always remember that day because while generally the relationship between a car salesman and the buyer is a tenuous one, I liked Mike and I trusted that he would get me into a safe and reliable car. He promised my mother and grandfather so. And he did. Though at the time, I wished we could have had the extra luck to get a color I liked.

My Taurus was silver, and I later called it The Silver Bullet, since I was prone to naming my cars at the time. My first car, a Plymouth Sundance, was a tiny little thing that I ironically called The Great White Shark. That car died the weekend of my high school graduation, which was yet another irony. Out with the old and in with the new, I suppose. Next came my Mercury Sable, a dark green sedan which for the life of me, I can now not remember the name of. No doubt I called it something corny like "The Green Machine."

But none of these lasted a significant fraction of the time that my last car did. I had my Taurus for my first date with Andrew, my wedding, our drive across the country and back again, my entire stint as a Navy dependent to an active-duty sailor. For a while, it was our family car - if a family can be just two people - while Andrew went through his other cars. And boy, did he know how to take care of a car. My Ford wouldn't have lasted half as long as it did without him. A few years back the Taurus was starting to show it's age by having a few transmission problems. It shook, jolted and made plenty of noise. A couple years ago, the muffler started to fail, and while we could have gotten it fixed, we knew that without fixing the transmission (which would cost more than the car was worth), fixing the muffler - or really any major problems - wouldn't be worth it.  So, we watched our car fail, and I begged it silently every time I drove it to hang on a bit longer. The situation wasn't that drastic...It drove well enough; it just seemed to make a fuss about it. But I knew it was only a matter of time before we'd have to say goodbye.

Andrew and I knew we couldn't sell the car for a lot of money, nor would we really want to. No teenager could buy the car and drive it safely without putting a lot of money into it, and in which case, what was the point of buying a cheap car? So we decided to donate. Andrew wanted to go local, and I wanted to go military, so when we heard about Minnesota Vietnam Veteran's Charity, we decided to go through there. Personally, I'd rather have found a place that covered all vets and not just the ones from Vietnam, but considering how many people were affected, I couldn't deny that they would reach a lot of people.

I won't go into the process or legalities of donating a car, but if you need information yourself, feel free to ask me. I now know the tax forms, the paperwork to read, etc. that is required for this sort of thing.

I cleaned out the car a few days ago, and Andrew took out my nice speakers yesterday, saying he'd find them a new home. My car was loaded with memories, and quite honestly, a little bit of trash. Some things manage to quite literally slip through the cracks, and I found a receipt from Norfolk in 2003. $1.45/gal for gas. If I could time travel, I'd go back and buy gas. ;-)  As I noted on Facebook, I also found a 2006 Connecticut Renaissance Festival program guide (my favorite ren fest), old candy, a Kerry/Edwards bumper sticker, and a bunch of travel maps and brochures, as well as an earring, coins, and a mini plastic cell phone that looks like it was meant for a Barbie.

Cleaning, removing speakers, and sorting the items didn't give me the finality of what the Vietnam Vets' tow truck did. Andrew noticed I was crying, so I left him, not wanting to deal with his mocking jests. He probably wouldn't have been that bad, but I hate being witnessed crying, especially when it seemed so silly. Though I knew it wasn't silly. Our Taurus was a good car, and it would be missed, and rightfully so. That car listened to me sing at outrageous volumes, let me sit on it to watch the stars, and once I think I even tried to have sex in it, which is probably the most uncomfortable thing in the world. It's held friends, family, wayward teens, boxes, liquids, leftovers...

My car had a soul and it was very good to me. I will miss it, and I hope that some lucky vet somewhere can fix it up and make good use of it.