Classic Think About It: Be Kind to the Geeks of October
It's October 1, my friends, and you all know what that means! I've got less than a month to come up with a Halloween costume. As much as I love Halloween and dressing up, it's still a hassle to come up with a costume every single year, as demonstrated in today's Classic Think About It column. Originally presented on October 12, 2002...
BE KIND TO THE GEEKS OF OCTOBER
I, my friends, am a classic geek. I make no apologizes for this, nor do I try to hide it. We are a small but growing percentage of the population merely trying to attain the level of dignity and respect afforded all of the non-geeks out there. As usual, so-called “leaders” like Jesse Jackson have been disturbingly silent on this issue.
But the reason I bring up my geekhood today is quite simple -- for all our years of progress, for all the advances geeks have contributed to society (would you really want to live in a world without Windows XP?), it’s still tough to be a geek in October.
The big event in October, of course, is Halloween, and the concept of dressing up in outlandish disguises and pretending to be someone else for a while is near and dear to the heart of the Native North American Geek. This is an evolutionary survival trait, learned eons ago when geek children roamed free in fields of clover until the children of primitive jocks arrived to give them noogies.
Making Halloween costumes involves the exercise of creativity and an embracing of our geek heritage, all of which is well and good. Unfortunately, sometimes we can be a bit too creative, drawing from obscure geek-centric sources that inspire looks of befuddlement and confusion from the non-geeks.
Last Halloween, for instance, it was suggested that we here at the newspaper wear costumes to the office on Oct. 31. This was a practice that a number of us (two) actually decided to participate in. Drawing from my love of movies, I acquired a trenchcoat, a long wig and a baseball cap, which I wore backwards, to portray “Silent Bob,” the wise, unobtrusive hero of such films as Clerks, Chasing Amy and Dogma.
And as I walked into the office that morning, one of my co-workers exclaimed with excitement, “Look! Blake’s dressed as a school shooter!”
Oy.
This sort of thing happens to geeks across America every year, folks. It’ll happen again this year, and it will happen to people you love. My friends Chase and Jenny, for instance, have indicated to me that they will be participating in this year’s great masque as characters from the TV show “Enterprise,” complete with 22nd-century era Federation uniforms. I feel for them, I have to, because while geeks such as myself will be able to look at them at a glance and determine what they’re supposed to be, the non-geeks of the world will stare like orangutans trying to play a harpsichord until they finally explain their costumes, at which point the masses will simply say, “Oh... that’s nice...”
I’ve got the same problem trying to come up with my own costume design. When choosing a Halloween costume I have two primary considerations -- 1) what do I already own and 2) -- what can I acquire relatively cheaply? The trenchcoat last year was an exception I made because... well... I’ve just always wanted a trenchcoat.
Anyway, what I already own is the trenchcoat, a black cape that appeared as part of a Phantom of the Opera costume some years ago which worked quite well, a suit that was used for the Phantom, as a Man In Black (I’ve often been told I’m the spitting image of Will Smith) and various other costumes over the years, and a few odds and ends.
So this year I began to ponder. I’ve got the trenchcoat already... maybe I can get a hold of a gas mask and a fedora, spray-paint a small Super Soaker black, wear a yellow tie... and then my train of thought stops because in my mind’s eye I’m already getting stares.
“What the heck are you supposed to be?” the non-geeks of my mind say.
“I’m the Sandman!” I shout.
Blank stares.
“The Golden Age Sandman. Circa 1941.”
Blank stares.
“Wesley Dodds? Went around spraying sleeping gas at criminals? Founding member of the Justice Society of America?”
Blank stares. Someone coughs nervously.
“Made a big appearance in Kingdom Come?” I say in desperation. “‘The book, pastor! Read the’ -- oh, never mind.”
Even this astral version of myself only has so much patience for trying to explain what he’s doing to people who are just going to smile politely before congratulating the guy who wears the same gorilla suit every year.
Maybe we can solve this problem by proclaiming October “Geek History Month” in our schools. Students can study the works of Gene Roddenberry and Neil Gaiman, Stan Lee and George Lucas! Watchmen will be required reading! Kids can act out scenes from The Hobbit! They can play Dungeons and Dragons in P.E.! Then by Oct. 31, everything will be perfectly clear!
Okay, maybe not. But could a few of you guys at least rent Clerks sometime?
Blake M. Petit still doesn’t know what the heck he’ll do for Halloween. Contact him with comments, suggestions or... well... just suggestions at BlakePT@cox.net or visit the Evertime LiveJournal,
blakemp.
BE KIND TO THE GEEKS OF OCTOBER
I, my friends, am a classic geek. I make no apologizes for this, nor do I try to hide it. We are a small but growing percentage of the population merely trying to attain the level of dignity and respect afforded all of the non-geeks out there. As usual, so-called “leaders” like Jesse Jackson have been disturbingly silent on this issue.
But the reason I bring up my geekhood today is quite simple -- for all our years of progress, for all the advances geeks have contributed to society (would you really want to live in a world without Windows XP?), it’s still tough to be a geek in October.
The big event in October, of course, is Halloween, and the concept of dressing up in outlandish disguises and pretending to be someone else for a while is near and dear to the heart of the Native North American Geek. This is an evolutionary survival trait, learned eons ago when geek children roamed free in fields of clover until the children of primitive jocks arrived to give them noogies.
Making Halloween costumes involves the exercise of creativity and an embracing of our geek heritage, all of which is well and good. Unfortunately, sometimes we can be a bit too creative, drawing from obscure geek-centric sources that inspire looks of befuddlement and confusion from the non-geeks.
Last Halloween, for instance, it was suggested that we here at the newspaper wear costumes to the office on Oct. 31. This was a practice that a number of us (two) actually decided to participate in. Drawing from my love of movies, I acquired a trenchcoat, a long wig and a baseball cap, which I wore backwards, to portray “Silent Bob,” the wise, unobtrusive hero of such films as Clerks, Chasing Amy and Dogma.
And as I walked into the office that morning, one of my co-workers exclaimed with excitement, “Look! Blake’s dressed as a school shooter!”
Oy.
This sort of thing happens to geeks across America every year, folks. It’ll happen again this year, and it will happen to people you love. My friends Chase and Jenny, for instance, have indicated to me that they will be participating in this year’s great masque as characters from the TV show “Enterprise,” complete with 22nd-century era Federation uniforms. I feel for them, I have to, because while geeks such as myself will be able to look at them at a glance and determine what they’re supposed to be, the non-geeks of the world will stare like orangutans trying to play a harpsichord until they finally explain their costumes, at which point the masses will simply say, “Oh... that’s nice...”
I’ve got the same problem trying to come up with my own costume design. When choosing a Halloween costume I have two primary considerations -- 1) what do I already own and 2) -- what can I acquire relatively cheaply? The trenchcoat last year was an exception I made because... well... I’ve just always wanted a trenchcoat.
Anyway, what I already own is the trenchcoat, a black cape that appeared as part of a Phantom of the Opera costume some years ago which worked quite well, a suit that was used for the Phantom, as a Man In Black (I’ve often been told I’m the spitting image of Will Smith) and various other costumes over the years, and a few odds and ends.
So this year I began to ponder. I’ve got the trenchcoat already... maybe I can get a hold of a gas mask and a fedora, spray-paint a small Super Soaker black, wear a yellow tie... and then my train of thought stops because in my mind’s eye I’m already getting stares.
“What the heck are you supposed to be?” the non-geeks of my mind say.
“I’m the Sandman!” I shout.
Blank stares.
“The Golden Age Sandman. Circa 1941.”
Blank stares.
“Wesley Dodds? Went around spraying sleeping gas at criminals? Founding member of the Justice Society of America?”
Blank stares. Someone coughs nervously.
“Made a big appearance in Kingdom Come?” I say in desperation. “‘The book, pastor! Read the’ -- oh, never mind.”
Even this astral version of myself only has so much patience for trying to explain what he’s doing to people who are just going to smile politely before congratulating the guy who wears the same gorilla suit every year.
Maybe we can solve this problem by proclaiming October “Geek History Month” in our schools. Students can study the works of Gene Roddenberry and Neil Gaiman, Stan Lee and George Lucas! Watchmen will be required reading! Kids can act out scenes from The Hobbit! They can play Dungeons and Dragons in P.E.! Then by Oct. 31, everything will be perfectly clear!
Okay, maybe not. But could a few of you guys at least rent Clerks sometime?
Blake M. Petit still doesn’t know what the heck he’ll do for Halloween. Contact him with comments, suggestions or... well... just suggestions at BlakePT@cox.net or visit the Evertime LiveJournal,
blakemp.