Jr High Drop Out

It’s hard to fit in. I spend a lot of energy trying to pretend I do, but I don’t. I’m a geek and GenCon is as close to a genuine family reunion as I get. And I love GenCon, but the crowds, the noise, and the pace aren’t always my bag. But late at night, when the crowds shut their hotel doors, that’s when the family reunion gets personal.

The hallways are dim and the noises are more distinct, more digestable. The throng is dissipated, replaced by the stragglers—-the most disaffected slice of a disaffected subculture. These are my people.

These late night hangers about are the night owls of the geek set. They sit in circles and play balloon volleyball. They lounge in nearly empty ballrooms staring at Chess boards, playing pieces from Settlers of Catan, and beaten-up sets of Risk. They dress in red cowls and leather armor and talk with other nerdish insomniacs about Vampire the Gathering and Celtic knots.

Here, amongst family, they are werewolves, princesses, monks, heroes, and villians. No one questions why. We all know the answer.

I understand the 50 year old guy whistling pitch perfect imitations of R2-D2. I understand why two 20-somethings would have earnest debate about whether Thor is a God or superhero. I understand why the teenager yells “Shazam!” I understand the lady in the tiara and her date in chainmail. They can do these things and not worry that they should stop to explain, because we all understand.

And with that understanding comes relief, acceptance, and the sort of relaxation that many of these people will never know in their daily lives.

I like these people and I like being here. It’s 3 in the morning, I’m blogging from my cell phone 10 feet from a werewolf and guy in a bright green Afro wig, and I’m relaxed.

That’s why I like conventions.