Nerds of a Feather

So, I had a pretty great weekend. I spent some time with a new man I’ve been seeing. Over yummy pub food and drinks, our conversation naturally turned towards my favorite thing to talk about on a third date. Dungeons and Dragons.

Don’t for a moment think I am kidding or being facetious. I really will talk about this on a date. But I've learned. I don’t want to get burned again by moving too fast. D&D is for Date 3.

We were in full-out nerd talk when I casually dropped this little bomb:

“I rescued my old Dark Tower game from a junk pile when my parents moved. It’s in my basement now. “

Uh, check please.

We went to my basement and dug out the dusty Nordstrom box and unearthed the magnificence that was the Dark Tower itself.  I flipped the switch on the bottom to on, knowing that, not only is the game over thirty years old, it was always a unpredictable piece of electronics.

Let’s take a moment to bring those of you who are not familiar with the game up to speed. I am not referring to Stephen King’s epic book series. This game was out a year before the first book. Coincidence? Or ka?

Dark Tower is board game where you amass an army to defeat an evil presence that has taken over the Tower. After collecting the keys that open the Tower, you have an epic battle for control of the land. The Dark Tower is an electronic unit that displays the events of the game.  It’s like if Risk and Speak & Spell had a love child.

I replaced the batteries, sure that the Tower wouldn’t work. It did. We put out the game board, and I would sure it would have many missing pieces.  It didn’t. I was sure that I wouldn’t remember how to play. I was right about that one. But, as luck would have it, the instruction book was at the bottom of the box.

We played the hell out of that game. Drinking, talking, laughing, telling stories about our 12-year-old nerd experiences.

Every day, I am surrounded by super smart people that are passionate about what they are doing whether creating a new memory-based computing technology or talking about the 12^th Doctor. These are my people.

The real question for me is: why haven’t I been dating a nerd all along? Maybe it was just too obvious for me to see. It was almost as if I hadn’t seen The Breakfast Club. I mean, I tried dating the athlete. That did not end well for me. I married a male version of the basket case. The stress and anxiety was making ME a basket case. I have no tolerance for a princess of either gender. I think I always understood that Brian was the real catch. Although, I would probably give Bender my diamond earring. And, let’s be fair… probably more than that…

I’m going to need a moment…

Anyway… Why was I fighting it? Of course I should date a fellow nerd! When a nerd finds something he loves, he commits to it completely. A guy that has a light saber collection separated out by Sith or Jedi—then further sorted by crystal color—that guy is the one who is really going to commit to a relationship.

Nerds are big on games. But usually not mind-games or sports-games. They are the guys who will use Super Bowl Sunday as an opportunity catch the latest Star Trek for the fourth time in a nearly empty theater. They don’t really notice if you are wearing a hockey sweater. But you better watch out if you put on your t-shirt with the funny math pun.

And if your nerdy love tells you he is spending the night hanging with the guys, you can almost guarantee that the only reason they will take a break from Skyrim is if they run out of Mt. Dew. The only hot girl they will be interacting with is digital, until he comes home to you.

You know what your nerd will find super sexy? Your book collection and your ability to tank during a WoW raid. Who the hell would pass up this guy? Nerds seek knowledge, but they are also patient while seeking it. They want to do things right. They are successful and resourceful. But they are also sweet and sensitive. They will run their fingers over the spines of the classics in your bookshelf before they run their fingers down your spine. Tell me that thought didn't give you a delicious shiver.

Nerds are authentic people. They have learned that there is no point trying to be anything but who they are. And at a certain point—usually around their late 20s—they decide that if the world doesn’t like who they are, the world can suck it. Nerds have too many empires to build to worry about running into the high school quarterback, who is serving up the fries your nerd ordered.

Nerds speak their own language, filled with obscure references and inside jokes. It is like all the world’s nerds have joined a single exclusive clubs. For example, nerds will always see that this is the best Batman cosplay ever:

Nerds are sexy. I mean, politics aside, Edward Snowden is way hotter than Edward Cullins.  Simon Pegg would take you on such an amazingly fun date, possibly including zombies. 

The perfect dinner party? Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Ben Folds, Tina Fey, Wes Anderson, and Bill Gates. Even my favorite literary characters are nerds. Hermione Granger, Daria, Encyclopedia Brown, Juno, and the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

And let’s not forget about this bespectacled redhead: Velma Dinkley.

The Determined Protector

It’s official. My Wasatch Roller Derby jersey is emblazoned with my skating name and number: #38 Velma Rinkley. This it the first time in my life that I have had a jersey with my name on it.

I don’t have many things that are personalized with my name. It’s an unusually spelled version of an already rare name. I never find my name among the racks of toy license plates in the airport gift shop. I’ve only met a handful people with my name, and no one that spells it like I do. So I am not used to seeing my name printed on anything.

Sister MSW once pointed out to me how many of my son’s possessions have his name printed on them. I think I am probably overcompensating for the fact that my name is not printed anywhere.

Until now. Now it is printed on the back of my WRD shirt.  I will grant you the point that it is not my original name. But I am counting it anyway.

I got thinking about the name Velma. Aside from the brilliant and adorable Velma Dinkley and the pitch-perfect murderess Velma Kelly, I don’t know of any other Velmas. So, of course, I Googled it.

*

The name Velma has Germanic roots, and it means Determined Protector or Strong-willed Warrior. I ask you, can you think of a better Derby name than that? Especially for a gal that is probably destined to be an outstanding inside blocker?** It’s perfect.

And there are a couple of other Velmas that have left their mark.

Velma Springstead was a Canadian athlete in the 1930s. This Velma was kicking in doors of the sports world in an era where women were fighting for the right to vote. Her short-but-brilliant Track and Field career led to the establishment of the Velma Springstead Trophy—commonly referred to as the Rose Bowl. The Rose Bowl is awarded annually by the Canadian Women’s Amateur Athletic Federation to a female athlete that epitomizes the traits that made this Velma a champion.

Diver Velma Clancy Dunn won a Silver medal in the 1936 Summer Olympics. She locked in the Silver with a spectacular dive from the 10 metre platform.

Velma Middleton could belt it with the best of them. This jazz vocalist spent her career as Louis Armstrong’s singer. She was well known for doing the splits on stage. All 250 pounds of her. She would have made a bad-ass Derby girl.

I wear the name Velma with great pride. I hope to live up to the other Velmas that came before me.

* That adorable illustration of Velma was created by the amazing Ines Barros,, who graciously let me post it on my blog. See more of her amazing work at: https://www.facebook.com/InesBarrosIllustration

**Well, hoping to be, anyway…

What’s In a Name?

Roller Derby is a high impact, full contact sport that requires an amazing level of athleticism, dedication, and training. But that doesn’t mean that Derby Girls don’t have a good time. One of the most fun parts of joining a Roller Derby team is picking out your Derby Name.

Since the Great Derby Revival, circa 2000 AD, derby names have been a part of the game. It is a rite of passage to select your name. Your Derby Name represents your alter ego, the kind of Derby Girl you want to be. It is also unique within the Roller Derby community. When you narrow down your potential names, you have to check each name against the International Rollergirls’ Master Roster. You need to verify that no one else is skating under that name (or one very close to that name). Look at the registry for yourself. It’s pretty damn cool.

http://www.twoevils.org/rollergirls/

As an aside, if you want a fascinating read, the following article discusses a paper written by law student David Fagundes. His paper explores how the social norms of the Derby self-regulate intellectual property—that is, Derby Names—without the need for trademarks, government oversight, or lawsuits.

http://freakonomics.com/2011/04/22/talk-derby-to-me-the-private-regulation-of-roller-derby-names/

Anyway, I think I have landed on a name and a number.  I have not had such a struggle since I had to name my kid 10 years ago.

Here are the thoughts swimming in my head: Am I jumping the gun? Have I earned my name? I think that I have. I think that, although I am nowhere near passing the minimum requirements I need to participate in a scrimmage, I’ve worked my ass off and greatly improved my skating. I am not nearly as good of a skater as my other Fresh Meat peers are. I am still trying to figure out the crossover.

But let me tell you what I can do. I can quickly get up from a two knee fall. I can skate in Derby stance. I can propel myself forward while keeping all 8 wheels on the track (we call those eggshells, by the way).

And I can call myself a Derby Girl. I’m Velma Rinkley, #38.

Sister MSW came up with the name. It could not be a better fit. Not only do I resemble the Scooby Doo smart chick with the glasses, freckles, and red hair, I’m always reading something and occasionally solving a mystery.

Velma Dinkley was never the girl that was worshipped by the guys. They all liked Daphne. Bullies at school used to call me Velma, as if that was the worst thing you could be. Guess what? I’d rather be the nerdy smart chick any day of the week. I’m happy to take back that name.  I know full well that, even at my current skill level, I could take down any one of those junior high assholes with one hip check.

So there you have it. My perfect Derby name. In the immortal works of Ms. Dinkley: Jinkies!