Glorious geekfests: Dreaming of Dragon Con

You haven’t lived until you’ve experienced the comic genius that is a storm trooper shaking his shiny white groove thing and thrusting a blaster rifle in time to throbbing techno beats amidst the flash of strobe lights at a sci-fi con dance.

That scene still stands as one of my favorite memories of Dragon Con, billed as “the largest multi-media, popular culture convention focusing on science fiction and fantasy, gaming, comics, literature, art, music, and film in the US.” Which is to say, if you’ve ever gotten into deep philosophical discussions about Battlestar Galactica, Middle Earth, graphic novels or vampire lore, you’ll find plenty to keep you busy at Dragon Con.

This year’s four-day event over Labor Day Weekend in Atlanta (Sept. 4-7) should be especially exciting for some (OK, I’m talking about me, even though I can’t go) because it will feature Patrick Stewart, William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy. Now that’s what I call an out-of-this-world lineup!

Of course, that trio comprises just a teeny, tiny fraction of the hundreds of guests on tap. If you attend, you can expect to join a (sometimes elaborately costumed) throng of 30,000 fans wandering around the host hotels (and along Peachtree Street). There will be a parade, costume contest, autograph sessions, merchandise dealers, films, music, and more panels than you can shake a lightsaber at.

One of the toughest bits about the con is deciding what to do. You can browse the guest list here and check the site Wednesday (Aug. 26) for a schedule. Here are some suggestions for those overwhelmed by the vast number of choices:

-Dance your way to a world record with Michael Jackson’s Thriller: Con organizers want a massive turnout of fans willing to learn the steps and take part in one huge zombie dance party. You can learn your moves in advance or in sessions at the con.

-Battlestar Galactica guests: I’m still loving and missing BSG (despite an ending I found somewhat disappointing). Several stars will be at the con, including Edward James Olmos (Admiral William Adama), Mary McDonnell (President Laura Roslin), Kate Vernon (Ellen Tigh), Richard Hatch (Tom Zarek), Alessandro Juliani (Felix Gaeta) and Kandyse McClure ("Dee" Dualla).

-Author Charlaine Harris: Harris penned the Sookie Stackhouse books on which the HBO series True Blood is based. Should be interesting to hear her take on the hit show.

-The Whedon Universe Track: Joss Whedon fans will want to check this out. Events focus mostly on Buffy and Angel, but hopefully something Dollhouse related will make its way onto the schedule.

-TrekTrak: I’ve been a Star Trek fan since when we were still called Trekkies. Here’s the guest list thus far. Highlights include Patrick Stewart, William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy and Kate Mulgrew, to list just a few.

-BritTrack: Fans of Dr. Who, Red Dwarf, Torchwood and more will enjoy this. Some of the guests are Terry Gilliam, Gareth David Lloyd and Eric Roberts.

-Comics and Pop Artist Alley: This is the place for comics fans to congregate. To name a few guests, you can spot Christopher Golden, Scott Allie and Doug Wagner.

-A sampling of other guests: Scott Adsit of 30 Rock (and the Adult Swim show Moral Orel) and Malcolm McDowell of Heroes (and A Clockwork Orange and countless other things).

-Drum circles: Last but not least, one of my favorite events is the freestyle, fan-lead drum circles that take place Friday through Sunday nights. I’ve seen them both indoors and out by the pool, and anyone can watch or join in. There’s belly dancing, drumming, even bagpipes (flutes, violins and probably even spoons are welcome, too). This is a must-see event that really makes you feel a part of the con. Below's a clip from last year I found on YouTube.

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Ad makes me want to "spruce up [my] Aphrodite"

A British ad urging women to "mow the law" (think *very* personal grooming put to an upbeat song and dance) is supposedly causing a stir in the States. I'm not sure if it's the super-tame U.S. version that's causing a stir, or if the peppy and much more pointed UK version got an airing that was too hot for American screens. I live in the UK and never saw either ad before they caught the attention of The Daily Beast.

The UK ad sure is effective; it not only made me laugh, it also made me want to do a little trimming with a Quattro razor, even though I've got plenty of disposables in ladylike pink already. Unfortunately I don't have the skill to do any heart-shaped "topiary" like the lass in the ad.

Here's the tepid U.S. version. Check out the infinitely more fun (and more naughty) UK version below:

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Simpsons take a licking from USPS

How much do I love the new Simpsons stamps? So much that I'm actually thinking about getting a stamp-collecting book for the first time since I was 10.

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Pride and Prejudice gets zombie treatment

I'm not big on zombie flicks (much to my husband's dismay), but I might have to check out the upcoming film that merges Zombies with Pride and Prejudice. Natalie Portman is set to star, so this sounds like a major-budget film. The classic opening line of P&P will now go like this (according to an article in the Times):

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains.”

And the storyline will remain largely true to the original tale -- with a few little twists:

While much of the original novel remains — perhaps about 85% — Grahame-Smith, who has written five previous books, including How to Survive a Horror Movie, has taken liberties. The Bennet family still has five marriageable daughters, but we know we are in a terribly different, though somehow disconcertingly familiar, world when we learn that in the zombie-infested England of those times: “The business of Mr Bennet’s life was to keep his daughters alive. The business of Mrs Bennet’s was to get them married.” All five Bennet girls have been taken to Shaolin, in China, by their father to be trained in the deadly arts of zombie-killing by the Chinese master Liu.

Urm, on closer inspection of the article, there is set to be some gross stuff in the film, and I REALLY hate gross stuff. Might give this a pass after all, but for those who can stomach it, it may be the most unique re visioning of Jane Austen yet.

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The Next Gen does Family Guy

The Family Guy is doing an episode featuring the principle cast of Star Trek: The Next Generation. Based on the clip, it looks like the crew had no problem poking fun at themselves. And can I just say that young or old, live action or cartoon, Patrick Stewart can beam me up anytime. Go on, make it so, Picard.

Daydreams aside, the episode "Not All Dogs Go to Heaven" airs Sunday at 9 p.m. ET on Fox. Get Wired for more info.

Check it out:

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A forgotten hero of The Great Escape

Sixty-five years ago as of last night, Allied POWS at Stalag Luft III began their escape attempt (it was March 24, 1944). Out of the 76 men who escaped the German camp, only three made it to freedom; 50 of them were executed.

The escape was immortalized in the film "The Great Escape." U.S. Army Col. Jerry Sage is the war hero on whom Steve McQueen's character was based, though regretfully you never seem to hear much about him. Sage worked for 15 months on a three-tunnel escape plan while in the POW camp, which he told of in his book "Sage." The movie "The Great Escape" was based on the book of the same title by Paul Brickhill, but Sage's exploits are credited with helping form the movie's plot (though his own book wasn't printed until well after the movie was made).

According to his 1993 obituary in Variety, Sage:

"...earned the nickname 'Cooler King' because he was placed in solitary confinement 15 times in the Nazi camp.

In the movie, McQueen whiled away time in solitary with a baseball glove and ball.

After numerous breakout attempts, Sage, who worked for the U.S. Office of Strategic Service, made his final escape across Poland after being a POW for more than three years."

According to IMDB:

"Steve McQueen's character Hilts was based on amalgamation of several characters, including Major Dave Jones, a flight commander during Doolittle's Raid who made it to Europe and was shot down and captured and Colonel Jerry Sage, who was an OSS agent in the North African desert when he was captured. Col. Sage was able to don a flight jacket and pass as a flier otherwise he would have been executed as a spy. Another inspiration was probably Sqn Ldr Eric Foster who escaped no less than seven times from German prisoner-of-war camps."

There's not a lot out there about Col. Sage. I remember him coming to speak at a history class when I was in junior high in the '80s; he talked about how he could kill a man in two seconds with his bare hands. Even though he was well into his 60s at the time, I firmly believed him and didn't doubt he could still do it if need be.

Sage struck me as a tough old bird who gave a hell of a lot in service of the United States. He was a member of the OSS (Office of Strategic Services) in World War II, a predecessor of the CIA. Perhaps he kept such a low profile due to the nature of his work. He also seems to have led an incredibly interesting life. I wish there was more out there about him (heck, I wish at least that his book were still in print! You can find some used copies on Amazon and at Abebooks.).

Do you have more info or stories about Jerry Sage? Leave a comment and share the love!

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Gimme a man that smells like Capt. Kirk

He was the sexiest starship captain in the galaxy. Even the triple-wanged alien studs in the Delta Quadrant had nothing on James T. Kirk. He was H-O-T hot, even to a little kid watching Star Trek reruns in the '70s and dreaming of being his girlfriend (even though I wasn't quite sure what he got up to with those green slave girls).

Now all those die-hard fans living in their parents' basements and saving up for the next Con can boldly smell like no Trek geek has smelled before. With a splash of Tiberius, one of three new fragrances paying homage to Star Trek, any Trekkie (or Trekker depending on how anal you are about your sci-fi habit) can smell like a space-age stud. Splash some on, head down to the DQ, and brag to the giggly teenage counter staff, "Yeah, baby, like it? It's Tiberius. As in James Tiberius Kirk, captain of the Starship Enterprise. How 'bout you come over to my place and watch TOS on DVD? Bring a Dilly Bar, doll."

Seriously, I did love Trek and think these fragrances are sort of a fun and funny idea. I'd even buy the ladies' fragrance, Ponn Far (named for the Vulcan mating ritual) if I could find it on clearance for a buck or two (and it would have to be clearance, as these fragrances will set you back $30-$40 and I'm not *that* into the concept). It would be fun to say I had it, but not really worth much of an investment. The third fragrance, btw, is Red Shirt, apparently named for the expendable character that tended to meet an unpleasant end in each episode. I'm not sure who would want to smell like the guy who bites it 10 minutes into the episode; maybe you give that to the boss you don't really like or an annoying step-relative.

On the fence about placing an order? Here's more info on these far-out scents to help you decide.

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Remembering Bill Hicks

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the death of comic Bill Hicks, who died of cancer on Feb. 26, 1994. I really didn't know much about him until I watched a comedy special recently, and admit I still don't know much except he seemed to be very talented and died far too young. The Guardian newspaper calls him "one of the most influential standups of recent times," and even created a Bill Hicks quiz.

Before testing your knowledge, read more about his life on Wikipedia, including the allegations by some that Denis Leary hacked Hicks' material. You can see clips of Hicks' act on YouTube.

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Something sinister about Everybody Loves Raymond

I never kept up with Everybody Loves Raymond when it first aired. Now I catch an episode here and there in reruns, and I have to wonder: Were they drugging those kids? Seriously, if that were a real family and you went to their house, you'd be concerned about those kids. The tikes are rarely around, are often left unsupervised, and stay in their rooms playing quietly (one presumes, as the alternate prospect of them being tied in the closet is just too hard to accept of the seemingly sweet mom, Debra).

What's more, they eat quietly, don't jabber and yammer with loads of questions or otherwise prevent adults from holding a conversation, don't spill much (and it's never a big mess when they do), don't fight with each other, and quietly go off to their rooms with a nod the first time they're told to. Debra's gotta be dosing those kids with cough syrup or something. I'm still waiting for the episode where social services gets involved, 'cause something ain't right up in that house.

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Dating deal breakers gone wild

There's a funny video on Yahoo Shine about dating deal breakers, meaning what would cause you to just walk out on a date. The viewer comments below it are pretty good, too; check it out here.

Having finally found my Prince, I don't have to deal with the often less-than-delightful world of dating anymore. When I was a hot-mama on the dating scene, though, I don't think I ever walked out on a date -- but I should have a few times. Here are some of my dating deal breakers:

-Don't flirt with, or kiss, another woman in front of me and tell me it was kind of a dare. I'm outta there! (Or I should've been).

-Don't stay on your cell phone half the night talking to friends trying to determine what you'll do later that night if you don't get lucky (big hint: this behavior ensures you *won't* be getting any sweet lovin'!).

-Don't let the entire date consist of riding around in your car for hours, stopping only to buy a can of soda -- one can -- for us to share. And if you do, at least get the kind of soda I like! (OK, this one happened when I was in high school, but even then it was unacceptable, especially since the guy was a bit older and not a high-school kid himself).

-Open doors, pick up the check without flinching or making sure I see exactly how much it cost (I don't care if it was $10 or $100, accept my sincere thanks for the meal without acting like I might "owe you something" and should know exactly how much I owe you for), and just generally be a gentleman.

-Don't show up on my doorstep two hours after you stood me up, drunk, yelling my name and begging to be let in. Deal breaker, baby!

-Don't bring a couple of female "friends" along for the evening. I'm not looking to be part of your harem.

-Don't order yourself another drink as I arrive, but tell the bartender I won't be having anything as we're about to head out. Rude, cheap, and stupid (given that I don't drink much and I'm most likely to ask for tap water or a Diet Coke).

-Don't tell me about the horrible break up with your ex-wife, then shudder when I tell you about something I like because you recall that your ex liked that, too. If you've got the kind of baggage that you get relationship flashbacks, slowly step away from your date and into a therapist's office.

Can anyone top those?

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McBeer, anyone?

The saying "different strokes for different folks" certainly applies to taste buds, which is why McDonald's menus around the world can vary just a tad from the standard we're used to in the States, originator of mass-market burgers to go.

In the list of 10 unusual items on McDonald's menus around the world, The Daily Mail found everything from the McSpaghetti in the Philippines (that's pasta, tomato sauce, sliced hot dog and grated cheese for anyone who wants to whip it up at home) to the Koroke Burger in Japan (made of a gag-inducing mix of mashed potato and cabbage).

My personal favorite, however, was McBeer, sold in all Mcdonald's in Germany. I wonder if it's a special Mickey D's blend? Perhaps brewed with just a splash of special sauce to complement that Big Mac? Seriously, though, a tall, cold one on tap could boost business in the States. Maybe that would help diners choke down more of the McCrap on the 99-cent menu.

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OMG, is that SJP dancing dirty in Catholic school??!!

While killing time on Photoshop Disasters, I found an entry about a badly done dvd cover that alerted me to an early Sarah Jessica Parker flick I'd never heard of -- probably with good reason based on the imdb rating of 5.4 (ouch!).

As you can see from the cover, "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" featured a very young SJP (she would've been around 19 or 20 but looked much younger), Helen Hunt and Shannon Doherty. Apparently the film features lots of boy troubles, dancing, and a nun on a pummel horse. Good times.

This looks kinda like Dirty Dancing set in a Catholic girls' school in the '80s. I can't make up my mind whether it looks bad in a fun way, or bad in a "please make it stop" way. You decide -- here's the trailer.

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Solid as Barack -- seriously dude, it's a song

From Maya Rudolph's lips on SNL to the ears of Ashford and Simpson to YouTube, an old song gets some new lyrics with "Solid as Barack." I don't think it will make the cut for the inaugural ball, but ya never know. And it's still a catchy tune. Check it out below:

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Hecklers and heroes – a tribute to Price

Drunk, loud biker chicks are to comedy shows what dudes who don’t tip are to strippers – an unwanted annoyance. Let me clue you in, comedy fans: random audience participation isn’t acceptable, it ruins the show for everyone, and it’s not all “kiss and make up” just because you flash the stage.

One aging biker babe came to a few of my gigs, and it was always bad news to see her seated near the front – always near the front. Her fellow bikers in their fringed denim and studded leather were quite welcome, actually – it was just that one motorcycle mama who could make your butt pucker with fear when you saw her glazed eyes turn toward the stage. I’ll call her Slappy.

The last time I saw Slappy was at a charity show in Montgomery, Alabama, in 2003. As host and organizer, the show was my baby. Then I saw Slappy show up. It was like seeing a drunk, raucous iceberg up ahead and being totally clueless how to keep it from sinking the ship.

The thing was, Slappy loved comedy, man, she was a fan. You could tell she didn’t mean to ruin the show – she just wanted to be part of it. Like she thought that’s how it’s supposed to work. She tossed out loud, random comments at just the right spot to break a joke’s rhythm. She tried to give an unwilling guy half her age a lap dance in a fit of fervor during the show. After which she tried to flash the feature act, but was too drunk to unlace her leather corset. Seriously, she wore a leather corset.

Price flinched in mock horror when she tried to free the twins. He was the feature act, and was in top form. He handled the interruption like a pro, and I think he threw out a “Give it up for inbreeding” as one of her biker buddies finally steered Slappy away.

That quieted her a bit. At least she didn’t ruin the show, and Price delivered the laughs yet again. He was one of the funniest comics I’ve ever known, even though he never took it nearly as far as he could have. Price did gigs in Alabama and around the South typically (touring farther afield at times with ScottyK, my headliner at the benefit), when he had time away from his “real” job. I too performed on the side of my “real” career, but I was just a hobby comic having a good time with my five minutes on stage. I couldn’t see ever making it my career or giving up my steady paycheck. Price, on the other hand, had much more than five decent minutes of material and could’ve been much more than a part-time comedian – but I guess he enjoyed a regular paycheck, too.

Price was hilarious as hell just hanging around in a way that few people are – even other comics, who tend not to be that rip-roaringly funny offstage unless they’re working it for someone they hope will buy a T-shirt or the next round.


One of the funniest things I’ve ever seen was Price at karaoke singing “Stand By Your Man.” It was the tone of his voice, the look on his face, the staying in character as the room rolled with laughter. Or Price telling the story of getting in a fight with a good friend on Halloween over a bottle of broken whiskey (I think) in college one year. He threw himself around as he told the tale and mimicked the brawl, which had taken place in the street and in costume, with Price dressed as a cowboy and his friend dressed as an American Indian.

Price could slay you with his wit like no one else. I wish I could remember his stories or relate them more precisely, but they’ve slipped away with the years like Jack Daniels through a shattered bottle on the pavement.

I still smile as I think of Price, even though the details are so fuzzy now. And I don’t know how to bring them into sharper focus, which is a great loss because I can never hear him tell those stories again. Price is gone; he took his own life in March 2007. He was about 33, though I’m not even certain of that after all this time. What I do know is he left far too soon.

I don’t know exactly what happened, as I had moved far away by then and hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of years. I still thought of him and almost called many times, but I hadn’t gotten him on the line in so long that I’d given up trying. Then an email from one of his friends told me he was gone, no explanation as to why.

Another friend briefly explained some personal demons Price had battled, but there was no precise detail there either, just as the details are fading from all my endearing, funny memories of Price. It’s so strange, because to me he seemed indestructible and able to handle anything, and able do it without even losing his sense of humor. Only, in the end, he wasn’t.

I really didn’t know him that well, I guess. I just knew the slice you see hanging out after a gig or in a bar or chatting on a road trip on the way to a gig or a bar. Price seemed able to see things so clearly – things about comedy and comedians and life and relationships, and about being a father to the daughter he cherished.

There were so many great moments, so many great stories with Price. Like his tale of falling into some kind of storage pit backstage just as the host introduced him for a show, and flailing around in the dark amidst the boxes while the audience waited expectantly. Or how his opening bit used to involve coming out in a flowing satin choir robe in deep burgundy for his character of an old preacher who had “his money on his mind and his mind on his money,” all the while wiping his face with a balled up bit of cloth that the audience slowly realized was a woman’s corset.

Then there was the gig I booked at a small pub in the even smaller town of Greenville, Alabama, just before Christmas. Price did the “preacher” bit and added a new line just for the holidays: “It looks like Christmas in here … ho, ho, ho,” he said, pointing with each “ho” to three women in the front row – the wife and friends of the pub owner, who just happened to be the man who was paying for our time and our drinks. And Price was so funny that the husband and ladies just laughed, no hard feelings.

The last time I shared a stage with Price was at that show in Montgomery, the one Slappy nearly trashed. He lived in Birmingham and I in Montgomery, so we didn’t bump into each other much outside of gigs, which we were both doing less of. We talked on the phone sometimes, but even that eventually faded away after I moved out of state.

And now he’s gone. I don’t really know why, or how, just that he’s not here. I’m sometimes tempted to call that old phone number in my address book or send him an email, because it seems impossible that he’s not out there still. I always stop myself; there’s no use hoping that friends who told me of his passing were all wrong and that the obituary in the newspaper was a mistake. There’s no way to pretend him back into existence – he’s just gone. It’s a great loss to so many people, even me, though I hadn’t seen him for years when he finally gave in to whatever it was he could no longer bear.

Ah Price, I don’t know what more to say. I love you and I miss you and I wish you were still here. I’ll never forget you, even if my memories fade further and all that’s left are some snapshots in an album that tear at the edges of my heart. I hope you have peace now. Goodbye old friend.

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Cleanse your inner warrior

Some magazines are pushing a new, pricey men's shower gel in their "things you must have even though they are overpriced and unnecessary" sections, and this one made my future-gift list. It's called the Zirh Warrior Collection, and it includes five fragrances named after rulers famous for military might (mostly ones that really existed, but they threw in Ulysses just to give literary types a kick). There's even a nifty pic of each one on the label.

The choices are Ulysses, Julius Caesar, Alexander, Cyrus and Charlemagne. These immediately made me think of my husband and his friends, many of whom are history buffs and would get a good laugh out of lathering up with the scent of an ancient Roman emperor. They also might secretly enjoy determining how they would've done things differently if they were the ruler on the label. I think my husband would want a Julius Caesar, which smells of refreshing citrus (which surely must also be the scent of great power and ancient togas).

These babies don't come cheap at $22.50 each, but they'd make a great gift if you don't know what to buy that certain man who would get a laugh out of it -- or that certain boss who rules with an iron hand and thinks his word is law. If ya gotta buy your boss something, these shower gels would send the subtle message that either A)He thinks he's a big shot, or B)He stinks. Either way, it's fun for the giver and the receiver.

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The bitch is back!

Happy New Year! I'm finally back from traveling, unpacked, settled in and ready to blog!

I hope you all had a fabby New Year's Eve. Mine was quite basic and just perfect. I stayed in with the Spousal Unit watching movies ("Just Like Heaven" and "Meet the Fockers") before tuning in to Elton John's New Year's Eve gig at London's O2 Arena. I love Sir Elton and it proved a very satisfying way to ring in the new year from the comfort of my couch with my Tesco spumante in hand (sweet and tasty).



Even the hubby enjoyed the show, though our favorite tunes showed the distinct differences in our personalities. My favs were songs like "Tiny Dancer" and "Candle in the Wind," while he enjoyed anything that could provide a peppy soundtrack to a bar brawl, like "Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting" and "The Bitch is Back." Either way, Elton John still has the pipes and magic fingers to deliver a great show, and I was in bliss. Hope you felt the same around 12:01. Bring on 2009!

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