Got Blue Milk? - Wouldn't you like to get away to galaxy far, far away where everybody knows your clone serial # and they're always glad you came?

Welcome to the rebellion.

First they shared a batch of clone DNA. Then they shared combat duty against rebel assaults across the universe. But when the blaster fuel cells are depleted and the battle is over, they share camaraderie over pints of blue milk.



END TRANSMISSION

Thanks to Jonathan Llyr at Hardcorenerdity for the heads up on this.

It was a Dark and Stormy Night - The Madeleine L'Engel Effect and Time with Dad

"I believe that good questions are more important than answers, and the best children's books ask questions, and make the readers ask questions. And every new question is going to disturb someone's universe."

- Madeleine L'Engle

Welcome to the rebellion.

Madeleine L’Engle died.

She passed away on September 6, 2007. The New York Times obituary summed up the 88 year-old as an author “whose childhood fables, religious meditations and fanciful science fiction transcended both genre and generation,” joining many news agencies and journalists in pigeonholing her as a children’s author when she was so much more.

L’Engle herself disliked the label, insisting that she did not write down to children. She famously declared in a 1993 Associated Press interview, quoted here by the Washington Post:

"In my dreams, I never have an age," she said. "I never write for any age group in mind. ... When you underestimate your audience, you're cutting yourself off from your best work."

The article suggests her literary output, which included poetry, plays, books on religion and prayer and autobiographical works were all “deeply, quixotically personal” then quotes Marygail G. Parker from the Dictionary of Literary Biography, who described “a peculiar splendor” to L’Engle’s work.

Quixotic? Hardly. Though L’Engle often implied her subconscious was in control of the writing of her most successful works and she was compelled to write them, few authors had a voice so uniquely personal and such command of poetic simplicity.

Like so many, I discovered L’Engle’s work as child through her much celebrated novel, A Wrinkle in Time. Her skillful blend of fantastic adventure, family drama, Einstein’s theory of relativity, Planck’s quantum theory, and human emotion reached me on so many levels at once, the book fairly vibrated with harmonic energy. For many, she was our first introduction to such high concepts.

In her 1998 acceptance speech upon receiving the Margaret Edwards Award (The American Library Association’s Lifetime Achievement Award for Writing in the Field of Young Adult Literature) L’Engle addressed some of the controversy attached to her young adult work.

It is still amazing to me that A WRINKLE IN TIME was considered too difficult for children. My children were seven, ten, and twelve while I was writing it, and they understood it. The problem is not that it's too difficult for children, but that it's too difficult for grown ups. Much of the world view of Einstein's thinking wasn't being taught when the grown ups were in school, but the children were comfortably familiar with it.

MEET THE AUSTINS (the book which preceded WRINKLE) took two years to find a publisher—largely because it begins with a family's reaction to the death of a beloved uncle, and children were not supposed to know about death. Largely, I suspect, because it upset their parents).

But again I was writing out of my own experience, and how my family accepted grief and loss and death. I think it made my children stronger than if we had gone placidly along with no traumas to work through.

Madeleine L’Engle had faith. Faith in God. Faith in humanity. She had little time for dogma and that made her difficult to live with for those who preferred using doctrine to control and shame others into conforming to their limited world view. In an interview on Religion and Ethics Newsweekly, L’Engle admitted she considers religion and science to be linked.

Religion and science? One and the same. I don't have any trouble with it. A lot of people do. They have to put one here and one there. And I think they're much more like that, each one informing the other… Religion is less accepting than science. Science knows things move and change, and religion doesn't want that. So, I am more comfortable with science. At the same time, I am not throwing God out the window.

I respect that world view and the strength it sometimes takes to stand by it when under heavy criticism. As a writer for children, I have often been confronted by parents telling me what their children don’t like about a show. Inevitably, they share something that disturbs them, not their children. L’Engle never wrote down to children but rather, wrote up to their humanity and search for knowledge, posing questions that encourage them to find their own answers and seek out new questions.

Producers and broadcasters constantly instruct me to avoid big ideas and concepts, use small words rather than ”language.” It’s a constant struggle to expand the worlds of children even as we’re asked to make it smaller and smaller. Horizons aren't meant to be reached by stretching out your hands. They’re meant to instill desire and they’re meant to be harder to get to. How mundane must we make the dreams of children?

For the rest of the world, Madeleine L’engle died on September 6, 2007.

For me, Madeleine L’Engle died the following year, in July 2008.

She passed the moment I stumbled across that uninspired New York Times obituary. Though much of the world had already mourned her passing. I was experiencing the first shock of grief – an emptiness in my heart where L’Engle’s place had been. A space I didn’t realize was there.

L’Engle was the first one to teach me that time is fluid. It depends so much on perception. It flies when we’re having fun. It drags when we are scared or worried. It stops when we are at the lightning edge of new revelation. In addition to a pervading sense of loss, I experienced one of those revelations when L’Engle died the second time.. I realized that I had often measured the truth of my words against hers and found my work wanting.

I witnessed L'Engle's death again months later when I told a friend who loves sci-fi about the author's passing. For my friend, the devastating news was new and fresh. Despite the actual death occuring more than a year earlier, her grief was very much happening right now. As I watched her suffer I was carried back on the wave of her anguish to my own moment of loss.

But if our experience of death of someone meaningful to us could happen multiple times, then so too could our experience of that person’s life. Every time I pick up one of L'Engle's books I re-experience the emotions they had first stirred in me, almost as if reliving that first time. The writing touched me in a place I can reconnect with instantly, proving that time, or at least our perception of it (And aren't time and perception of time the same ting really?) is not linear.

Time is not linear. Madeleine L’Engle told me this and Madeleine L’Engle showed me this.

We generally experience time as a linear series of events so we can all communicate and feel we are going in the same direction. That shared perception of moving forward through experience is one of the things that unites us all. But at any given moment we may find ourselves out of sync, be stuck in the past or anticipating the future. Like right now, for me.

Several weeks ago I lost my father and I have been unstuck in time ever since.

I’m thankful that over the past few years my father and I have both made an effort to get to know each other better as individuals and not just as father and son. A great deal of the credit for this transformation to our relationship is due to my wife, whose love for family seems truly unlimited, despite the pain that sometimes brings.

Though Dad’s health had been declining for many months and he and his wife kept us more or less informed as to the details of his ailments, I can’t help but feel they kept the true depths of his decline to themselves as they quietly prepared. Perhaps I was not in touch enough to properly track events. Quite possibly I simply wasn't eager to know.

I now have all the more reason to cherish a surprise visit my wife and I made to my Dad and his wife, Marlene, to spend a day driving in the countryside outside of London, Ontario. Though he was unable to walk very far, he enjoyed being our chauffeur, parking the car and watching through the windshield as Marlene took us through a lavender farm and various roadside attractions. We then ate an early dinner in a lovely, nearly deserted café. My attempts to sit in the car with Dad and chat as Marlene and Jill shopped were gently refused. Dad was eager to see us all enjoying ourselves. In retrospect, is it possible he was subtly preparing us all to move on and enjoy life without him, for the day when his spirit would be watching from a greater distance?

It’s the natural order. No parent wants to outlive their children. They want to know their family will be strong and move on in life, never forgetting but never regretting. It’s part of our growth as people, a growth that will never truly be fulfilled until we experience and survive their passing, taking strength from their memory.

Upon hearing about my father’s passing, a friend pointed out another side to the experience in this way, “Now you get to start a whole new relationship with him.” I suppose that I already have started a new relationship with my father, though where it takes me will only be revealed in time. It certainly worked that way when my Mom passed away while I was in university. I stumbled along and as I learned more about my mother she became more than just a Mom. She grew into a person in my head.

It takes a long time to acclimatize yourself to losing a parent at a young age but I suppose I found it all the more difficult due to the suddenness of her departure. She simply winked out of my life. No warning. No drama. She was there and then she wasn’t. I like to imagine she tessered across the galaxies to spend eternity in the company of Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who and Mrs. Which, who, along with Aunt Beast, represented the many facets of familial love in A Wrinkle In Time. With time I grew accustomed to this new relationship and I know in my head that I will develop a similar new relationship with my father. Some time. Just not yet.

Because time is not linear.

We can experience an intense reverse déjà vu (vuja de?) of a future we haven’t been to yet, but we know is coming. Even now I can catch momentary glimpses of my future self, who’s already processed this so the pain is not so fresh and therefore finds everything a little bit easier. Senses can take us back in time. A smell, a song, a taste, or a touch can catapult us backward. And sometimes time holds us in two places at once. Our minds or spirits can be trapped in the past as our present selves go forward, making coffee or reading the paper or getting back to work.

I remember anticipating the premiere of Deep Space Nine after a particularly good season of Star Trek: The Next Generation. I found myself surprised at the heady mixture of speculative fiction, political intrigue, the true difficulties in fostering community and the emotional turmoil of DS9’s Commander, Benjamin Sisko played by Avery Brooks. Sisko is a reluctant leader, raising his teenage son as he struggles with the loss of his beloved wife.

The Deep Space Nine space station is on the edge of a wormhole in space occupied by quantum beings that do not exist in linear time. Sisko’s inability to escape the memories of his wife’s tragic, final moments proves to be a point of communication between himself and the aliens. As they exist simultaneously in the then, the now and the future, so he exists in the past and present. Sisko's constant flashbacks to that moment belie his attempts to explain mankind’s linear existence.

I can remember being deeply moved by DS9’s two-hour premiere and Avery Brook’s charged performance. His willingness to embrace the humanity of his character made me feel less alone in dealing with my mother’s passing years earlier. My memories of Benjamin Sisko will always center on his immense sadness in the pilot and his throaty laughter in subsequent seasons, embracing two extremes of human experience.

A week after Dad's death I found myself at Toronto's Fan Expo, Canada's largest sci-fi, comicbook, anime, horror and gaming convention. I saw Avery Brooks signing autographs and greeting convention goers at Toronto’s Fan Expo and found myself remembering that Deep Space Nine pilot. Somehow, his ability to embrace the entire spectrum of humanity in his role with joy and such joie de vive helped normalize my grief. And the memories of Sisko’s passage through his own grief made me feel less alone in my time loop.

I couldn’t resist the opportunity to tell him how he helped me with my mother’s passing and now with my father’s. The poor man seemed at a loss for words (not surprisingly). Then he extended both hands to grasp my own and that gentle, generous smile crossed his face. Avery looked at me with his gentle eyes and said… I have no idea what. Something, something in his whole career, something, head nod, something. Couldn’t hear a word he said. I thought he was theatrically trained for God’s sake but he wasn’t projecting at all.

But the connection was precious in that moment and I’ll never forget it.

Like Benjamin Sisko, I have been caught in time loop of my own, reliving my father’s last day as I move through the days and night that have followed. My body types away at my scripts, takes notes at meetings, and tries to sleep but my mind has, well, a mind of its own lately. It gives no warning as it takes me through that last minute call to rush out of town to Dad’s bedside. I relive the near sleepless overnight shift at his bedside, first with my sister and eventually, all alone. Returning after a few hours sleep to relieve Dad’s wife and holding his hand and talking to him after his pain moans turned to steady breathing, which soon would gradually slow to nothing.

Each time I am hijacked in this way, I feel suspended in utter stillness then I find myself right back in that room. I can look around the room and see what time of the day or night it is. I can smell the hospital’s hand disinfectant and hear the steady chug of the oxygen, emitting its gentle mist to reduce the drying effect of pure CO2 on Dad’s throat and lungs. But mostly I hear his breaths grow short and the gap between his final gasps lengthen. I wait, relieved each time a new breath comes and look in his eyes, hold his hand (Jill holds the other) and talk to him about his family, and where each loved one was at that moment, his wife, his children and his grandchildren.

And then, the space between breaths become all there is and he is gone.

A smaller percentage of the time I spend in the past takes place in the hours immediately following Dad’s death. I spent them contacting the family and waiting for my brothers and sisters to have their final time in the room with our father. I suspect they are all experiencing their own time loops. I know my oldest brother is. After a conflicted relationship with my Dad he likely has many things left unsaid. And I know to some extent, his feelings and judgments regarding those old wounds are locked in the mindset of the child who first experienced them. I hope he finds his way out.

Though I am spending extensive time in that final day, I am grateful I’m not alone in those concluding moments. Though I never take my eyes away from my father’s (these instants are too precious), I know that I have but to glance to my left and I will see my beloved wife holding Dad’s other hand as she sends her considerable reserves of love to Dad and for me. But I don’t ever look at her. If I look I may break down, overwhelmed by the unending depths of her love and support and unable to cope with the intense reality we’re facing. I look into my father’s eyes and he looks back, ready to move on and knowing his family is ready for him to go.

I look into my father’s eyes and he looks into mine until he'd no longer there to look.

His eyes see nothing anymore. And where there once were the sounds of his final breaths, now there is silence. I relive that twenty-four hour period over and over in real time. The only bright spot in the day is the knowledge that if I glance to my left I will see my wife. But thankfully, whatever force drags me back there allows me a second of pure transcendence...

Jill and I exit the hospital, the storm of the day (which brewed up a tornado north of Toronto in a masterfully timed example of pathetic fallacy) is over and the sun streams through the clouds like the climax of some widescreen, Technicolor, biblical epic. We breathe in fresh air.

I live this wonderful moment over and over too. And where every other part of the day leaves me with remarkably ambivalent feelings, this instant makes my heart soar. A smiling Jill takes my arm as we walk across the parking lot and after deep breath declares…

“There’s your Dad, shining down all around us.”

And just like that I’m back in the present. My wife is my anchor in the now. Just as Dad’s wife, Marlene, allowed him to live a longer and happier life, so too does mine. Life and death go on as always.

Eventually I will spend less time in that room and more time enjoying the memories of my Dad when he was hale and hearty, young and robust. But if I must be trapped in that final day a little while longer, I am grateful that I am not there alone.

I love you, Jill.

I love you , Dad.

END TRANSMISSION

Darth Vader Is Not Clever - Part Two

Welcome to the rebellion.

We wish it weren't so, but Darth Vader, despite six movies in which to build on his early badass promise, has failed to live up to his evil potential.

Whole lot of choking going on.

In the first post on this topic, we discussed Darth Vader's initial, awe-inspiring appearance in Star Wars and his subsequent development from brutal, galactic overlord to a truly memorable and adaptable cinema villain.

We may have gone back to the theatre time and again to see Luke, Han, Chewie and Leia triumph, but it was Vader we truly couldn't get enough of. Every kid on the block went around breathing heavily through their mouths or into soda cans and juice bottles, imitating Vader's raspy, evil eloquence.

This was a guy who brought tough love parenting to a new level when seeking answers his own daughter. "Why weren't you home by curfew last night? I want to meet the boy who's taking you to the prom. what was that, no? Okay, fine. No prom. No planet!"

He has also showed a willingness to use old techniques (Drugs, interrogation droids, a good old-fashioned invisible neck squeeze. Classics all.) yet also take advantage of new technologies (the Death Star). All the while showing his disdain for overconfidence with any of these things.

"I find you lack of faith... disturbing."

Well, we didn't know Leia was his daughter at that point but it made a scary scene even more compelling and creepy in retrospect.

Anticipation for more of this villain ran high after Star Wars. Did Darth Vader survive being blown into space? What kind of malevolent retaliation would he inflict on Luke and the rebels for heaping such an indignant fate upon him? A generation of kids, both young and old, were in a perpetual fervor of expectation while they waited for the second installment of Lucas’ franchise in the making.

Case in point...

During a re-release of Star Wars to stir audience interest for the forthcoming Empire Strikes Back, I remember slowly shuffling out of the theatre as the credits rolled. I would have preferred to stay for the entire credits, letting John William’s heroic Star Wars score carry me through to a proper sense of denouement but the other patrons in my aisle made that impossible.

As the final credits rolled off the screen, light from the screen suddenly filled the cinema. Preview scenes from the new movie burst onto the scene! People dashed into their seats to take it all in.

We waited with baited breath through incredible shots of space battles, an eerie swamp plant and incredible machines fighting for dominance on a snowy planet, and for confirmation of Vader's return.

Back in black!

At last, a tantalizingly quick shot of the rebels appeared. We hushed as Leia, Han, Chewie and their droids entered a white room. At the end of long table, the Sith Lord Darth Vader rose, taking them, and us, completely by surprise. Han drew his blaster only to have Vader telekinetically snatch it form across the room with a wave of his gloved hand. The cheers were unbelievable!

Few screen villains will ever have that kind of impact of viewers.

Let’s face it. A good hero is nothing without a good villain. Batman isn’t playing with a full deck without his Joker. Dirty Harry wouldn’t have made such a sudden impact without his initial run-in with Scorpio. And Arnold Schwarzenegger was the hero and villain of his most famous film franchise. I’ll be back… and back… and back.

As we discussed in Part One of this discussion (Oh so long ago.), Vader showed remarkable adaptability and grew more efficiently ruthless in The Empire Strikes Back. It was a joy watching the Sith Lord learn from the typical mistakes so often found in middle-management (over-delegating, underestimating the experience and savvy of former mentors, ignoring the ability of young upstarts to bounce back) and take his first, tentative steps to rivaling the Emperor himself for space smarts and strategic thinking in this, the first of many sequels.

Darth realizes he is only one man and so, like any good manager, delegates. Hiring mercs who specialize in finding needles in cosmic haystacks for fun and profit is sensible step. It not only increases the odds of success, but these men are able to search the crevasses of space, the lowly, dirt-covered planets and systems where fugitives think they can hide.

A Star-Destroyer pulling into orbit led by a guy in shiny armor is sure to give anyone on the run advance warning. But the bounty hunters fit right in on the fringes of galactic society. No one sees them coming.

Unlike the Jedi, who rely on the Force and their own wits to persevere, the Sith make every effort to manipulate events and others to do their dirty work for them. Despite the blow to his pride, Vader’s plan of action is wholly in keeping with these tactics.

And it quickly pays off.

Boba Fett thinks much the way Han Solo does and tracks the Millenium Falcon to Bespin. In fact, he anticipates Solo’s flight plan. The audience is expecting Vader and his forces to arrive in pursuit of Han. But when Vader rises at the end of Lando’s Cloud City Dining Room, we are as surprised as the rebels. He’s been there all along and even had enough time for a quick, one-sided negotiation with Lando Calrissian.

Every step in this film, Vader becomes more dangerous. In his view, actions have consequences and he’s just the judge, jury and executioner to carry them out. He has no compunctions about encasing Han Solo in carbonite to lure Luke to a deadly confrontation. Vader toys with Luke, sharing the shocking secret of his true lineage and in so doing, forces the audience to rethink everything they’ve seen back through TWO MOVIES!

Skywalker family feud.


Give the man a hand.

Sadly, after almost achieving “Evil-Villain of the Month” greatness by freezing Han "That Annoying Thorn in my Armor" Solo and cutting off the hand of our eager, young hero, the menacing, adaptable Darth Vader of The Empire Strikes Back would wave goodbye and disappear forever at the end of the credits.

Empire Strikes Back attained that rare watermark for a sequel. It built on and outdid its predecessor without copying it. Much like the Godfather II and the antithesis of Die Hard II: Die Harder and every Friday the 13th movie ever made. The characters grew up, the stakes grew higher and more personal, and the villain truly grew into an even greater threat than he had presented in the first film.

Unfortunately, though The Empire Strikes Back solidified Darth Vader’s place as the scariest bugger in a certain galaxy far, far away, that particular Sith Lord would not appear in Return Of The Jedi. His cape, helmet and re-breather were turned over to an indecisive, pencil-pushing, ineffectual, middle manager.

It’s tragic tale of corporate ennui. Many up and coming professionals hit the glass ceiling at work after a meteoric rise to prominence. With no room for advancement as long as the Emperor hold the reins of power, even a Sith Lord may choose to coast.

Next: The downsizing of Vader.

END TRANSMISSION

Space Chick Flicks - Warming up those Chilly Hoth Nights

Welcome to the rebellion.

Our rebel entertainment spies have the straight scoop on upcoming Holo Transmissions from the Imperial Networks.

It gets pretty cold out in space. Makes a Hutt want to curl up with his favourite, dancing, slave girl by a roaring, nuclear furnace and chillax a while. If you want to get your fetching, fettered thrall into the mood why not skip the will-dominating cocktails and Jedi mind tricks for the month and take advantage of Chick Flick Month, currently running on Oprah the Hutt's female-skewing Oxygenesis Holo Channnel?

Host Darth Vader welcomes his special prisoner... er, guest, Princess Leia Organa, whose extended interrogation reveals not only where she sent the plans to the Empire's new Death Star weapon, but also her personal, top choices for favourite cinema classics.

Every week night, the battling Skywalkers will be airing a beloved tear-jerker, a warm-hearted, laugh-because-it's true comedy, or a female-empowering, ball-busting personal manifesto with plucky female protagonists to help pass the stark, hopeless hours spent isolated in Cell 2187, Detention Block AA-23.

Last night they kicked things off with the ten-hankie Terms of Enslavement. The rest of the week serves up Sith Magnolias, Brief Close Encounter, The Devil Wears Blast Armor and Runaway Jedi.

Who could hate Monday's when next week's line-up kicks off with Breakfast at Tarkin's, Dune Sea Beaches, Under The Tatooine Sun, Bridgit Jones' Hologram, and a Friday double feature of All About Evil and Little Wookiees?

The following week brings us A Pod With a View, Educating Leia, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sithhood, Looking For Mr. Goodjedi and a special screening of the juggernaut, three-hour Gone With The Plans on Sunday evening.

Oxygenesis brings the month to a close with a final week of The Way We War, Fried Green Tauntaun, My Big, Fat Hutt Wedding, Four Sequels and a Funeral Pyre and finally, You've Got Sub-Space Chatter.

Whew!

That's a lot of chick flick points you'll have accrued next time you're picking movies at the Cineplex. But don't watch too many with her or she'll think you actually dig movies where nothing explodes and nobody gets blasted.

END TRANSMISSION

Fan Expo Toronto - Top 10

Welcome to the rebellion. The Toronto Fan Expo Sci-Fi /Horror/Anime/Gaming and Comicon started yesterday. Here are few things that stood out to me:

10. The 501st Canadian Legion.

The Canadian garrison of the self-proclaimed "world's premier Imperial Star Wars costuming fan club", made their presence felt with a table right outside the entrance to the hall. You may or may not know that the 501st Legion is comprised of people who make and ear their own stormtrooper and related Star Wars costumes and uniforms. They do appearances, help raise money for charity and share their passion for cos-play with each other.

For those who aren't sure what cosplay is, good old Winkepedia defines it as follows: "Cosplay... short for "costume play", is a type of performance art whose participants outfit themselves, with often elaborate costumes and accessories, as a specific character."

Members of the 501st roamed the convention posing for pictures and spreading the Star Wars love but I do wish the people at the table were more enthusiastic. When I checked them out they seemed tired already and it was only a couple of hours into the day. It's possible they're just shy. It's much easier to interact with strangers from behind a helmet.

Rather than chat me up while he had me in person, the out of uniform "Commanding Officer" handed me his card and suggested I check out the website. And this is right after I told him I had seen the website and was curious about them. If this ass-backwards approach is a common denominator in all stormtrooper business, then it goes pretty far in helping me realize why stormtroopers are such bad blaster shots.

9. Hardcore Nerdity.com.

A new social networking site for science fiction and fantasy geeks with one of the best names ever. It looks like Jonathan Lire, formerly of Space: The Imagination Station in Canada, is one of the people behind the idea. They were just inside the main entrance offering a chance to win a Smart Car for joining... IF they happen to get 10, 000 new members to sign over the course of the Fan Expo weekend.

Sure the odds of that car coming into play aren't good, but rather than declare the promotion a bait and switch, they prefer to think of it as optimistic. It';s good encouragement for people to join and to invite others to give it a try. Why not try out a site where you know in advance people won't thumb their noses at your geek credentials?

I took the invite from my friend Casey, who was proudly earing her home-made Battlestar Galactica jacket. Casey is an actress as well as a stunt fight performer. I started to calculate the odds of the car contest getting activated, but then realized you simply don't quote the numbers to a woman who can kick your ass! :)

I wish www.hardcorenerdity.com all the best for it's beta launch.

8. Rue Morgue's dead body.

Rue Morgue the awesome Canadian horror magazine, placed a realistic murder victim on the floor outside their booth and many a passerby were laying down next it to pose for those hard to get "suicide pact" shots that really make your vacation slide shows sing.

7. Rob Walton's gorgeous prints aping Marvel Comic's Secret Invasion Skrull covers.

Cartoonist Walton whipped up a Betty and Veronica cover featuring them as Skrull teens discussing subjugating the boys and a terrific Skrullified version of Mary Jane Watson's first appearance as drawn by John Romita. "Face it tiger, you've hit the jackpot!" Check out more of this brilliant under-used talent at his blog.

Do yourself a favour and check out Rob's collected Ragmop trade paperback. You can find details here.

6. Henry Winkler is super-friendly, focused guy.

With a hilarious run in Arrested Development,very down to earth advice given to Scott Baio over the phone in Scott Baio is Thirty-Nine and Single, and all the excitement over the Bronze Fonz unveiled in Milwaukie, where not a single frame of Happy Days was shot to my recollection). Henry Winkler's popularity has been on a much-deserved upswing.



Rather than stand behind his table, The former Fonz greeted people with a warm, two-handed handshake and walked them to his table. He's big on eye contact and often kept holding their hand or put a hand on their arm as people shared how welcome he was in their home over the years. But his line moved extremely fast. Winkler had given each person some one-on-one time without wasting a minute down to a science. Everyone walked away with a special moment... except me of course.

I was next to shake his hand but then realized two things; I didn't have money for a copy of one of his kid's books or a picture and signature, and I was late for the Hoverboy panel! So I smiled at him, pretending I was with the Father and Son he 'd just greeted and slinked away!

In retrospect, the only thing that would have made his table complete would have been a shark for people to jump over as they approached.

Check out Mr. Winkler's series of Hank Zipper books, about the world's greatest, dyslexic underachiever.

5. Artists' Alley.

I got a bunch of great sketches from this year's bad ass crop of comic scribblers and I hate to say it but the young bucks kicked the older artist's asses this time around. They really went all out and once you get one really hot sketch in your sketchbook, the next guy's got to top it!

The secret? Try to group your sketches each year around artists who know each other. They'll instantly get competitive. At another recent convention, I got a super sketch from Kalman Andrasofszky because he got to draw a tuxedo! It was a character Kalman had never done before and it turns he just plain digs drawing tuxedos!

When I pitched another bizarre character, Kalman laughed and basically dared me to get Butternut Squash, Kukuburi and DC artist Ramon Pérez to draw it. "He loves that crazy stuff!" How could Ramon say no to that? And his sketch kicked so much ass that everyone after him had to bring their "A" game! Seriously, it dripped so much manly machismo I had to shake the sketchbook before letting anyone draw in it again. And damned if Deadend 56 artist Andy Belanger didn't top it! (Don't worry, I'll post sketches online sometime in the next few months)

The one drag? Some of the artists I had hoped to get sketches from weren't drawing this time out. Adam Hughes injured his hand, Stuart Immonen stopped drawing at conventions a while ago and even published a book collecting his webcomic about it, 50 Reasons to Stop Sketching at Conventions. But Stuart and Kathryn were terrific to talk to and had lots of stuff for sale. And I got to pass on a hello a mutual friend asked me to send about four years ago!

Check out their weekly webcomic, Moving Pictures.

It was also great to run into talented artists like Agnes Garbowska and the way cool Laurie Breitkreuz, who bring girl power and serious magic with their flashing pens. They also bring the entertaining bonus of watching fanboys develop little crushes on them as they chatted.

So for now the number one thing at Fan Expo?

4. Super Moms.

I ran into a few uber-cool Moms taking their kids to the convention. They also actually speak to people as they wait in line.

I wish I remembered the name of the delightful mother in line with me to meet Brent Spiner (Yeah, I said it... in line to meet Commander Data. Wanna make something of it?). She has embraced her teenage interests and believe me, that family take that convention with a carefully orchestrated and timed plan of attack!

She gave me the straight goods on Jeremy Bulloch (charming, full of stories and appeared in no less than three Bond films), Henry Winkler (she's the one who convinced me to line up for him) and Kate Mulgrew (Too many restrictions and not very available).

Her sons recoiled when she threatened to wear a costume if she could decide who to be next year. I suggested Wilma Dearing as portrayed by Erin Grey in the Buck Rogers TV series. After several people in line around us agreed that Erin Gray was the reason spandex was invented, I think she's delighted enough with the idea to do it!

3. Sushi. Seriously.

The food court lines for the pizza kiosk and hot dog vendor were endless. Not so for the sushi. People were wary of trusting it I guess. I stuck to the vegetarian wraps and sandwiches they offered and was fed and out of there before people who arrived at the same time even got to the pizza counter.

2. Carpeting.

After walking on concrete for several hours I found myself at a game demo I was uninterested in simply so I could stand on their cushy swatch of carpeting. i Is it too much to ask for carpeted aisles? Yes, I suppose it is.

1. Drumroll please. Our number one thing about Fan Expo this year is...

HOVERBOY!!!

Yup, Hoverboy is number one with a bucket!

Not only is Hoverboy the greatest comic super-hero of all time (who didn't grow up wanting to wear a bucket on their head and float several inches off the kitchen floor to get to that hard to reach cookie cupboard?), he's also the worst super-hero of all time, all rolled into one! Marcus Moore's obsession has never failed to inspire others to jump on his bucket bandwagon. The premiere, one-shot issue of Mr. Comic's Hoverboy is garnering terrific fan reaction.

I got into Hoverboy through my sister, Stephanie, who starred in the Hoverboy musical for kids, "I Will Not Pail" at her school. She would play that album over and over as she danced in her Hoverboy flammable jammies and made hovershawls on her Hoverboy Loom set.

The day she got her hair caught in the loom may have been a dark one for her follicles but not for her little brub brub. After losing all her hair she gave me her entire Hoverboy collection and punked out. Score!

Anyhow, creator Marcus Moore, along with Ty Templeton and Rick Green (Of Prisoners of Gravity fame) are having a blast rebuilding the franchise. You can spend an afternoon looking through the extensive Hoverboy site here. (It's almost as good as my own Imperial News! (Okay, okay. It's better. The bastards.)

Do yourself a favour and check out the Hoverboy cartoons that started this madness. They truly rock.

It's the greatest in-joke comic of all because it's not an in-joke at all. Check out their wonderful site and buy a copy of the comic. You'll be glad you joined the bucket brigade.

"It's time for fists!"

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