Debunking Con Categorizations

Comic cons have a reputation. You know of what I speak. They suffer from the misconception that their attendees are all social outcasts that fill their elaborate costumes with the overpowering stench of their rancid BO and couldn’t find a date even if their cousin were a Habsburg.

While these stereotypes aren’t entirely undeserved, they are at least largely inaccurate. Since I have been asked several times lately, in a condescending manner, what one does at a comic con and with whom, I feel like I should set the record straight. Yes, mostly because I love telling people how wrong they are.

Below you will find the most common comic con myths I have encountered and the reasons for their erroneousness.

Myth #1: You will detect no hints of hygienic products at comic cons.

Incorrect. While you will come across an attendee now and then that is little too ripe in their Batsuit, most smell at least tolerable. Honestly, that’s about the best you can hope for anywhere.

Pikachu is one of the most adored anime characters of all time.
Pikachu is one of the most adored anime characters of all time.

Myth #2: Unless you wear a Wolverine costume to bed every night, you aren’t a serious enough fan to enjoy a comic con.

Not true. There is a little something for every type and level of fan at comic cons. And, frankly, it’s fun just to observe the rampant enthusiasm of others.

Arthur Darvill played one of my favorite Doctor Who characters.
Arthur Darvill played one of my favorite Doctor Who characters.

Myth #3: If you tell your associates that you went to a comic con they will think less of you as a human being.

False. Apart from those that suffer from what I call “too-cool syndrome,” you will find that most of your acquaintances are either envious of your attendance or have been to a comic con themselves. As for the too-cool kids, they are in fact the most uncool people you will ever meet because they care too much about what others think of their interests to pursue hobbies out of their comfort zone. You are already cooler than them.

I got a Spock tattoo. No, not a permanent one. Would you want your illogicalness constantly judged by those Vulcan eyebrows for the rest of your life?
I got a Spock tattoo. No, not a permanent one. Would you want your illogicalness constantly judged by those Vulcan eyebrows for the rest of your life?

Myth #4: If you don’t have a shrine for your life-size Asuna doll built in your closet, you will have nothing in common with the patrons at comic cons.

Wrong. Most of the people at comic cons are just regular folks. Well, regular folks that like to wear spandex or collect functional lightsabers. Don’t worry, if you do have a shrine in your closet, you can find friends at comic cons too.

Han Solos? An oxymoron or just a couple of morons?
Han Solos? An oxymoron or just a couple of morons?

Myth #5: Your friends wouldn’t be caught dead at a comic con.

Bogus. I’ve seen your friends at comic cons. And, need I mention the obvious, I’m your friend and I’m at comic cons. We see so many of our buddies at comic cons that we regularly set up lunch or dinner dates with them during these events to catch up and discuss our fondest con experiences. It’s one of my favorite parts of these conventions.

Mark Hamill filled nearly all of the Vivint Smart Home Arena's 20,000 seats, his largest audience to date.
Mark Hamill filled nearly all of the Vivint Smart Home Arena’s 20,000 seats, his largest audience to date.

Myth #6: A star panel couldn’t possibly be interesting unless you are so obsessed with the celebrity that you named your oldest and second-oldest kids after them.

Untrue. While celebrities are hardly heroes, they are entertaining people with amusing stories about things you will find fascinating and funny. You don’t have to be a hardcore stalker to appreciate a captivating talker. (Yup, I just made that up.)

Resistance is fun!
Resistance is fun!

Myth #7: The types of people that go to comic cons have no social skills and are therefore impossible to mingle with.

Wrong. We’ve met many intriguing and outgoing people at comic cons. Troy, how’s it going buddy?

We had a great time at Salt Lake Comic Con this fall. We listened to Mark Hamill, Will Shatner, Arthur Darvill, and Evanna Lynch. We learned about the ways sci-fi has addressed society’s woes. I even got the face of a green-blooded Vulcan tattooed on my arm. And, of course, we grabbed a meal or two with friends that we hadn’t seen in months. It was an entertaining event.

You must let go of your preconceptions, pride, dignity, ego, and “coolness” to experience the true power of comic cons. Will you meet an occasional fan that is eager to slither back to their mother’s basement to practice Parseltongue on their boa constrictor? Probably. But hey, who wouldn’t want to have an elegant conversation with their snakey? Just go with it.

A Browncoat Bash

Science fiction is my favorite entertainment genre, which is why I gobble up good sci-fi faster than the Crystalline Entity chomps organic life. Therefore, it should shock no one that Jason and I are Firefly fans, tasty sci-fi to be sure, and count ourselves among the rough and nerdy followers of that series commonly referred to as “Browncoats.” Also not surprisingly, we opted to attend the Browncoat Ball in Salt Lake City this fall like others with similar tastes in outerwear.

Although we were the only ones in our rail group to do so, Jason and I wore attire befitting the 'Verse.
Although we were the only ones in our rail group to do so, Jason and I wore attire befitting the ‘Verse.
It was fun to see a different side of Deer Creek Reservoir.
It was fun to see a different side of Deer Creek Reservoir.

The Browncoats put on a national shindig annually that happened to be in Utah this year. Even though I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect from this event, I signed us up. After all, sci-fi is all about going daringly into the unknown and I am nothing if not daring… except when it comes to small places, high places, germs, swift water, sun exposure, meat, insects, crooked lines, movie gore, and so forth.

I love this picture of Jason except his oddly-placed arm.
I love this picture of Jason except his oddly-placed arm.

Not only did we decide to attend the actual ball, a black-tie evening full of great food, singing, heists, auctions, and dancing, we also opted to do a day activity with some of the Browncoat crew, a three-hour outing on the Heber Creeper. Yes, clearly a reference to “The Train Job.”

The Heber Creeper stopped at Vivian Park to switch the position of its engine.
The Heber Creeper stopped at Vivian Park to switch the position of its engine.
We enjoyed chatting with this bunch of fan strangers while our train ambled down the track.
We enjoyed chatting with this bunch of fan strangers while our train ambled down the track.

The Heber Valley Railroad, AKA Heber Creeper, runs from Heber to Vivian Park in Provo Canyon primarily on the power of steam locomotives over 100 years old. We had never gone through Provo Canyon on these bygone tracks before so we thought we might as well give it a whirl with some Firefly friends.

Because of the Asian influences in Firefly, I chose to purchase my dress for the ball from India. Claustrophobics of the world take note, Indian dresses do not have zippers. You have to wiggle your way out of them.
Because of the Asian influences in Firefly, I chose to purchase my dress for the ball from India. Claustrophobics of the world take note, Indian dresses do not have zippers. You have to wiggle your way out of them.

The Heber Creeper has been accurately named, in case you are wondering. Our train definitely crawled unhurriedly but the scenery we passed was pretty and we had a shiny time chatting with a group of people, most of them out-of-towners, with whom we had an instant commonality.

We did both old-school and run-of-the-mill dancing at the ball.
We did both old-school and run-of-the-mill dancing at the ball.

I’m glad that exploring unusual pursuits with strangers does not intimidate me. Perhaps I am ready now to journey to the stars or tackle touching food without washing my hands.

Meanwhile in Midway…

I had to attend a conference in Midway recently for an industry group. Per his habit, Jason tagged along. We were only there for a day and a half but we still found a little time for fun on four wheels.

In the few afternoon hours we had free between my seminars and board obligations, we rented a Polaris RZR. We took this hardy vehicle on a 30-mile jaunt across backcountry dirt roads and trails that started in Wasatch Mountain State Park and twisted around to American Fork Canyon before coming back along Deer Creek Reservoir, a journey that took nearly three hours.

Impressive outlooks were frequently encountered during our drive.
Impressive outlooks were frequently encountered during our drive.

This ride contained an ideal mix of roads that bounced and scenery that struck. We crossed creeks and dodged furrows while yellowing leaves clinked their decaying percussions in a pleasing breeze.

We rode a mix of trail types.
We rode a mix of trail types.

The downside? Dirt. We were so dusty when we returned that our schnozzles were literally black. After I washed my hands a few times, they still left grimy smears on the hotel towels. (Sorry hotel!)

Jason did most of the driving because I couldn't reach the pedals comfortably.
Jason did most of the driving because I couldn’t reach the pedals comfortably.

What a quick and dirty yet enjoyable escapade. Incidentally, I would recommend a RZR ride around Midway to families and adventurers alike. The RZR felt safer than other ATVs I’ve ridden and more appropriate for all types of passengers.