Thursday, June 30, 2016

Primary Fandoms

When I was seven or eight years old cable television either didn't exist or wasn't widely available. To watch television we needed an antenna and with that we could receive four channels: NBC, CBS, ABC, and PBS. There were two times when television went straight to ultra boring - when the president was giving a speech and Sunday morning. It was Sunday mornings that got me interested in SciFi.

While Saturday morning was cartoon time for the kids, Sunday morning was for the religious. All three of the big networks played church programs. Now, this was before mega churches and video sermons. The programming that was on was the service from a local church. If you were lucky, there was more than just one camera sitting in the back of the sanctuary with a wide shot of the altar/pulpit. Considering we often left the television off on Sundays until after church, the last thing my eight-year-old self wanted to see was more church. As George Carlin said, "Church was a weekly reminder that there was something worse than school."

With church on the big three we usually turned to PBS. This is the only reason I know what Nova is and it is what introduced me to Star Trek. It wasn't just that it was often the only thing to watch on Sunday mornings that wasn't church, I really enjoyed it. I loved Star Trek so much over the years that there was a time that I could literally identify the episode, by name, and give you a full plot synopsis by watching no more than ten seconds of any part of any original series episode. Even if it was just a closeup of Mr. Spock raising an eyebrow. Yes, seriously.

Star Trek, in its many forms, has always held a special place in my heart, like a first love. If you asked me what my fandom was, my unhesitating response, for many, many years would have been, "I'm a Trekkie!" [side note: fandom is a recent expression. It's sort-of like cosplay. It's always been there, we just didn't always call it that.] I will forever refer to myself as a Trekkie (or Trekker, depending on my mood) but I've recently been taking notice of which fandom I gravitate toward most strongly and, to my surprise, it's changed.

Way back in 1977 there was this little box office sleeper that was quietly released to theaters called Star Wars. You may have heard of it. I think it was the first movie I absolutely had to see. There were so many incredible things about the movie theater experience back then but seeing the lines wrapped around the building (we mostly had single-screen theaters back then) had to be the most spectacular to my young self. If that many people wanted to see this movie at any particular time it had to be good.

I love the original Star Wars and will forever raise it up as an example of great film making. From the story to the characters to the then ground-breaking special effects (up to that point no one had left the model stationary and moved the camera around it to create motion) it's absolutely amazing. I watch it now and can see its rough edges but still marvel that George Lucas and his team put so many firsts in that production. They literally had to invent new ways of producing special effects, some of which are still used today.

As great as it is and as great as it was I still identified myself as a Trekkie. Maybe because the fandom never got saddled with a catchy name, I don't know. What would you call a Star Wars fan, anyway? Star Warrior? Star Warian? Skywalkerer? At any rate, my placement of Star Wars as my number one favorite lasted maybe a year or two after its release if it ever was on top. I eventually settled back into my old, comfortable, Starfleet mindset.

In the early '80s PBS, yet again, introduced me to this odd little show from England called Doctor Who. I know it wasn't another Sunday morning find. I think it may have aired on Saturday afternoons. Anyway, Here was this show about this quirky guy with bushy hair and a looooong scarf around his neck traveling through space and time in... a British police box... that was bigger on the inside. This show was not some highly-polished, big-budget production. On the contrary, it looked quite cheap. But that was part of its charm. Being interested at the time in television/video production it was fascinating to see how they used ordinary objects and materials in unusual and unexpected ways.

I lost touch with the show when the local PBS stations started shuffling the schedule. It was also around that time that I really started to take an interest in girls. The latter was likely the reason I didn't fly my geek flag quite so high anymore. I lost track of The Doctor and eventually heard that the show had ended in 1989. It wasn't such a hard blow for me because I'd missed out on something like four doctors by that time and I'd settled comfortably back into my Trekkie seat in 1987 with the introduction of Star Trek: The Next Generation.

With a steady diet of Star Trek movies and television and Star Wars sequels I'd put The Doctor on a shelf to gather dust. I kept him around, to be sure, and when people asked I would politely tell them, "Yes, I know of The Doctor and enjoyed the show very much." I really didn't give him much thought until 2005 when BBC America, a channel that didn't even launch until 1998, announced that they were bringing it back.

By this time I'd done away with my self-consciousness and flew my geek flag as high as I could. I was uneasy about this rebirth (or should that be regeneration?). Would they maintain the spirit of The Doctor? Would the stories be any good? Would The Doctor be any good? I watched the first episode with trepidation. I didn't want to hate it but so many rebirths of so many shows had failed miserably. I needn't have worried. When I heard Christopher Eccleston utter the phrase, "Hello, Rose. I'm The Doctor. Run for your life." in that Doctor-esque calm and whimsy I was hooked again. This time, I don't think I've missed a single episode (thank God for DVRs).

As I look around my desk I see four Star Wars figurines, some The Walking Dead Funko pocket pop!s that I got in a grab bag, a Captain America Funko mug I won at work, a Darth Vader Mr. Potato Head, and a space marine action figure from Starcraft. Scattered about amidst all of that is a six-inch vinyl TARDIS, three postcard-sized pictures of the TARDIS (one looking in to the control room, one with the doors closed, and one with a cat peering inside), a photo of me stepping out of the Tulsa TARDIS, and a Funko pocket Pop! of the fourth Doctor (Tom Baker). But it doesn't end there. My current vehicle is a 2014 Jazz (darker) Blue Dodge Charger with a vanity plate that reads TMTRVLR (TARDIS was already taken). I think it's safe to say that I've changed my primary fandom from Trekkie to Whovian.

Live long and prosper, may The Force be with you, always know where your towel is, and Allons-y!


Tuesday, September 02, 2014

Meatball Sandwich Casserole


Meatball Sandwich Casserole

You will need:

! bag of frozen meatballs (I use Mama Lucia Brand, personal preference)
1 jar of marinara sauce or spaghetti sauce if there isn't any marinara on hand
1 cup mozzarella cheese, shredded
1 cup Italian blend cheese, shredded
1/2 cup Parmesan cheese, shredded
1 loaf of fresh Italian bread, sliced

To prepare:

Preheat oven to 400. Place entire bag of meatballs in pot with sauce (I also add garlic, onion powder, salt and pepper to taste) and cook over medium heat until warmed completely through, about 10 minutes. Stir as needed to keep meatballs from sticking to pot. Once heated through remove from heat. Place meatballs in the center of a 9x13 baking dish, layer mozzarella and Italian blend cheeses over meatballs topping off with the Parmesan. Take the slices of Italian bread and line the pan all the way around with them so that they are kind of keeping the meatballs toward the center of the pan. The bread slices will be standing up in the pan as shown in the picture. You have creative freedom here with the bread...you can lightly butter and garlic the bread prior to placing it in the pan if you prefer or even brush lightly with olive oil and garlic. The choice is yours. I have made it plain and as noted above and all are delicious!

Place in oven and bake for approximately 25 minutes or until cheese is melted and bubbly. Remove from oven, serve and enjoy!

A side salad goes nicely with this quick meal!

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Overthinking Technology

I came to Kansas City this weekend for two reasons. 1) The 31st is my dad's birthday. 2) The KC RenFest started this weekend. While at the RenFest yesterday I purchased a CD of The Jolly Rogers, a "band of five guys who share a few common traits – a love for maritime music, an unreasoning fascination with the fantasy of Golden Age pirates and, above all, a very warped sense of humor."

Being as I'm not at home, my resources are limited. I brought a netbook with me so I have no optical drive available to use with it. I was trying to determine a process I could follow to get the music onto my iPhone so I could listen to it in the car on my way home. Step one was to convert the CD to a digital format. There are at least three computers in the house with optical drives that I can use to rip the CD. Once that's done I have a flash drive I can use to transfer the files to my netbook.

I proceeded withe step one and had the files on the flash drive. It was then that I realized that, even though I transfer these files to my netbook, how do I get them into my iPhone? This isn't my primary computer that I usually connect to my phone. I wonder if this netbook has Bluetooth? Would the iPhone even recognize the music if I just dropped the files onto it?

Then it hit me... ... ... ... the car has a CD player.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

The Barrier

A friend of mine who has definite physical limitations told me something this weekend. She used to say she had no regrets but she revealed to me that she had recently started feeling that she regretted not trying out for the pom pom squad in high school.

In the moment, she had watched the routines and the physical requirements and had decided that she just wouldn't be able to do it. She imposed an automatic limit upon herself without ever trying. She might not have made the team but just trying would have pushed her beyond the boundaries that she thought she had. And maybe, just maybe, the team would have worked to include her despite her limitations.

This brought home a thought process I've been going through. I was actually talking, out loud, to someone about this and said something about understanding my limits and staying within them. As I said it I knew it was an excuse. I knew it was bullshit. I knew the limits were of my own making. I knew it was a barrier built by fear.

As I think about what I said I know I'm holding myself back. I see the fence in the distance and feel I can't climb it and turn away. The truth I know is that the fence is not that high and there are gates. There may be a gatekeeper of some sort but the gates are all along the fence.

The funny thing is I also know that beyond the fence... is another fence.

My last post may have sounded discouraged but I'm not. I think about finding my greatness every day. I examine the barriers, I examine the paths, and I examine the possibilities.

Thursday, May 08, 2014

Fear And Anger

I am looking for my greatness.
Will my star shine bright or will I let it continue to be dim?
I am afraid.
If I hold back I will waste potential.
If I try too hard I may burn out and end up as a black hole.
I hold myself back.
I lie to myself that the resources are finite and I must not use them up. There is only so much I can use.
But when I lie I only increase my own resistance. I excuse myself from trying.
I know that the resources are replenished with each attempt - successful or not. Failure is always an option.
But I am afraid.
I want to throw everything into the fire and let it explode in spectacular fashion but it doesn't work like that.
Like gunpowder outside of a bullet it fizzles in a brief, anticlimactic poof.
I do not like the slow burn.
I want to see the elephant devoured not eaten one small bite at a time.
I am frustrated by my desire for quick results.
I fear I will lose interest and walk away from my greatness without ever knowing it.
I have done many things that I thought would grow if I only gave them attention only to find I'm not very good at them.
I try something else and it, too, withers.
Why do I stop when things get difficult?
Why do I never practice?
I took piano lessons for six years and never got past the simplified versions of the sheet music.
I want things to come naturally, to just happen. I know it doesn't really happen like that. All examples of greatness are stories of hard work and dedication.
I am afraid.
I have taken the next step in my perceived evolution and have failed miserably. More than once.
I like the low-hanging fruit but I'm truly not afraid to climb the tree... if I can see how to reach what I want. The fat, juicy, ripe fruit at the top of the canopy is so far out of site that I don't want to reach for it for fear of getting to the top only to find sour fruit or none at all. All the time ignoring the spectacular view.
I'm going to climb. I don't know where I will end up.

I started trying to write something prophetic here. An organized, insightful revelation of my thought processes so far. I took the first step, why not just take the second? The truth is it's not organized - as you can see. So this was just a stream of consciousness thing. I stopped where I did because I was starting to get angry with myself for telling myself it is better to have false, inaccurate limits than unreachable goals (that really aren't unreachable).

Maybe next time I should make a list of my accomplishments. A list of the things I know how to do, no matter how seemingly insignificant. Maybe that will help me see that I'm shining brighter than I think I am.

Wednesday, May 07, 2014

Find You Own Greatness

All the elements in your body were forged many many millions of years ago in the heart of a faraway star that exploded and died. That explosion scattered those elements across the desolations of deep space. After so, so many millions of years, these elements came together to form new stars and new planets. And on and on it went. The elements came together and burst apart, forming shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings. Until, eventually, they came together to make you. You are unique in the universe. - Doctor Who, The Rings of Akhaten
There are times in life when you see people surpass you who started at the same point you did or maybe a little behind. There are also times when you see someone being successful at the life you thought you would have. It is difficult not to compare yourself to them. It is difficult not to say, "That could be me." We all know that we are unique with our own blend of talents and shortcomings. We all know that we shouldn't compare ourselves to others. But how do we embrace that uniqueness?

I was listening to my iPhone shuffle through all of the music uploaded to it when Ready to Hang by Wayman Tisdale came on. I probably met Wayman at some point since we went to the same high school but I couldn't tell you if he would have recognized me or not. He and my older sister were in the same class and knew each other well enough that Wayman once recognized my brother, who is one year younger than my sister, when Wayman walked past my him on an airplane. He stopped and asked my brother something like, "Aren't you Mary's brother?"

I was thinking about that story, that my brother likes to tell, and it got me to thinking about Wayman's life. He was a basketball star in high school, college and in the NBA. He even went to the Olympics. Wayman went on to have a music career and released eight albums. At one point I learned that he had taught himself how to play the bass... and he was pretty good at it. In 2007 he was diagnosed with cancer and had part of his leg amputated in 2008. He died in May of 2009.

I was reflecting on all of this: All of the amazing things he had done in his life despite it being cut short. Of course I'm no Wayman Tisdale. My star does not shine nearly as bright and it likely never will. What I want, however, is to be remembered as having done something with my life.

That's when it hit me: We can't all be the bright star in the sky but we can all shine in our own way. The trick is to find your own greatness. It doesn't matter that someone does something faster or better than you.

I was trying to finish that thought by saying, "What does matter..." but I'm not sure exactly what that is yet. I think that's part of what I'm looking for. This is just the first, tiny step and I hope I don't get distracted from this path. I need to find my greatness. I might already have it or it may be completely unrealized and yet to come. I have a friend that calls it Grabbing the Starfish. She explains it as "Knowing and working towards that one thing that you are supposed to be doing with your life." It sounded like a thousand other existential platitudes but I think I get it now.

Stay tuned. I'll probably bring you along for the ride.

Sunday, May 04, 2014

I Used To Have A Blog

I have a bachelor's degree in radio and television production. One of the jobs I actually held in this field was doing video production for the advertising department of the local cable company. We were a small market so there was one sales person and two production... eh... specialists. Not only were we responsible for shooting and editing the commercials, we were often called upon to conceptualize, write and even narrate the spots. After two years I became quite adept at cramming a lot of information into thirty seconds.

It took me a long time to break that habit. It's one of the reasons I started a blog. I didn't really want to continue writing in a style that embraced direct information without detail and sometimes without context. If I were to continue, my prose would be very succinct. I give you an example:

Two families hated each other. A boy from one family and a girl from the other took a shine to each other. Because of the feud between the families they had to keep their love secret. The boy decided to fake his death so they could escape together. He tried to let her know it was fake but the message didn't get to her. When she saw him, thinking he was dead, she decided to take her own life to be with the boy she loved. He woke up from his fake death only to find her dead. In a moment of agony over what she'd done, he took his own life, for real this time, to be with her.

That's not a story. That's a plot summary. The point is, I worked hard to move away from that and got pretty good at documenting the mundane aspects of my life and commenting on things nobody really cared about. In other words, I became a blogger.

Then I joined facebook. I was a little weary of writing out long, explanatory posts and had been doing some drive-by blogging anyway. Facebook was a perfect venue in which to do that. I could post something brief and to the point and get, hopefully, some simple and quick feed back about it.

Then there's Twitter. 140 characters to say whatever you have to say and that's it! It and texting have formed an entirely new language of shorthand. But, even more than facebook, it forces you to concentrate and compress your thoughts. You never really say anything, you just provide sound bytes without the sound.

Then came Vine. Six seconds. That's all you get. If you can speak fast or convey your thoughts through motion, you can cram in a little more than a tweet... but only a little.

Let's not even discuss snapchat.

Have you noticed that my paragraphs have been getting shorter?

It's been nine months since I posted anything here. I've been hanging out at facebook quipping about life, keeping up with friends, and "liking" pictures of cats. Nothing too deep. No stories, for sure. It's a drive-by blog fest. It seems that each new technology we're obsessed with maintaining the attention of the severely-afflicted ADD sufferer. We want to get our words in before they have a chance to notice that squirrel. (go ahead, I wait while you watch him scamper up the tree).

... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Is he gone? Okay, let's continue. ... ... what was I saying? Oh, yes, writing with substance.

I don't think, even after nearly eleven years of blogging, that I've ever completely eschewed the postcard prose I so easily adapted to. I mean, break down this post. I have short paragraphs, I have visual and thematic breaks, my sentences become terse, and even now my brain is trying to figure out how to say what I'm actually thinking and get this one in the can.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that social media, in its call for, and even restriction to, brevity is destroying our - or mine, at the very least - ability to tell stories. Sure, we can get our point across in six seconds, 140 characters, or a post designed to be read in its entirety as the screen is scrolling by, but we don't tell the stories. We don't give the details. We don't provide depth.

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It is my lady, O, it is my love!
Oh, that she knew she were!

That boy's in love! No doubt.