At 11:45 a.m. on Saturday, I was frantically driving to the far East side to make it to my bank before closing time. The bright orange demarcations of construction were everywhere on East Washington, mucking up traffic and adding to my frustration. I drove past the Big Lots and the Wendy’s and the cell phone stores galore, finally reaching the sprawl of asphalt that contained my bank, everyone else’s banks, any suburban franchise restaurant one could dream up, and all the big box stores. I found myself thinking, with glee, how lucky I am that I live with my daughter in Madison, Wisconsin, where countless modern “necessities” are just a stone’s throw away from a couple of beautiful lakes, a jewel of a capitol building, the University, the world’s best farmer’s market, State Street… needless to say, after my transaction we turned right back around and headed downtown.

Here’s a word of advice to all of you out there, whether or not you’re a parent. Go ahead and curse the traffic, but then count your blessings. I found a choice parking spot just across from Memorial Union Terrace, as bands were cuing up on Library Mall and Badger fans were speedwalking to State Street bars to join together in that jovial athletic camaraderie that seems unique to Wisconsin. As my daughter Phoebe remarked woefully last weekend-- when a lack of parking and an excess of tailgating parties threatened to derail our plans to head to the zoo-- “Everyone here is a Badger! There are Badgers everywhere!” And when, indeed, she was shut out of going to the zoo, "Badgers ruin EVERYTHING." She was dejected, but I have to say it’s a bit of a cultural bonus to live in a city who wears her heart on her [red] sleeve. Makes everyone seem a bit more honest.

All right, so back to the blessings. The weather was spotless, eerily 80 degrees and climbing with nary a cloud in the sky-blue sky. Our first stop was the annual Great Pumpkin Regatta off the Hoofers pier on Lake Mendota. It was fun to watch the paddlers maneuver gargantuan pumpkins through the lakes on innertubes, but rather anticlimactic—apparently we arrived between heats, and the preparation proved mind-numbing for even the most tolerant 6-year-old. The pumpkins were impressive. If the weather had been more autumnal, we would have stayed longer, but we decided to beat the heat with a little Babcock Hall ice cream.

Ah, what can I say that hasn’t already been said about that ice cream; there’s a reason that even in a line 30 strong, children are happy to wait for it. Phoebe opted for a classic mint chip, while I went for the more waistband-friendly raspberry frozen yogurt. At $4.09 for two small single scoop cones, not only is this the most local and tasty ice-cream option in town, the money goes back into the UW and it’s probably the best deal around!

We crossed the street to put some change in our meter and immediately I noticed two anomalies. There was a girl walking down the sidewalk wagging a long tail behind her, and the unmistakable smell of a certain controlled substance was wafting through the air. My daughter was catching the drips off of her cone unaware. I had known that the Great Midwest Marijuana Festival was happening, but I had no idea it would be so, you know, happening. The music sounded…

“What’s that music? It’s TERRIBLE!” Phoebe wrinkled her nose. (band, you shall remain nameless.)

We hightailed it--excuse the pun--to the Humanities Building, to attend something I never would have imagined attending with my child: Geek.Kon. At the registration table, she was awed right off the bat by meeting one of her idols. “Are you a cat?” she asked the young lady standing next to us. Twitching her pink nose and pawing at her blond wig, the girl said, “Actually, I’m Hello, Kitty!”

We put our nametags on and wandered into a magical land where people were speaking multiple languages (Elvish, Manga, and HTML code) and dressed in all manner of geekiness. This was a great initiation for mother and daughter. As we entered the building, we saw a room to the left labeled “Command Deck” and “Stuff Check.” The man in charge there was decked out in a “Geek Orthodox” t-shirt. Black horns protruded from his head, a red armband said “Security” and his badge read “Rabbi.” He was murmuring into a headset, but stopped long enough to graciously lend us a pen and point us in the right direction.

Here’s one thing that I learned right away. Geeks are cooler than most people. Why? They’re nice. Everyone we ran into, whether they were volunteers, staff, or attendees, was helpful, smiling, and informative. The next room was labeled LAN. Uh, what? We walked in to a classroom replete with about a dozen computers, including the biggest flatscreen monitor I’ve ever seen. A dude who wore a lanyard declaring him “Grand Game Master” told me, “This is supposed to be a LAN party,” and sighed, “but as you can see, it’s not much of a party.” Alas, there was only one other person in the room, but I tried to make the Game Master feel better by complimenting him on his big computer screen. True to form, he grinned and told me a lot of technical stuff about it. I gathered that LAN parties were all about networking- computer networking, that is. People get together and play computer games, with each other, while hanging out in the same room. “Awesome!” Phoebe said.

In the hallway a gaggle of geeks had surrounded two cute young girls. They were clamoring to get their pictures taken with the duo, who were dolled up in short skirts and pigtails. Geeky guy after geeky guy was eagerly handing their camera over to a friend and getting a pic of himself in a cute sandwich. At first I found the scene a bit creepy, but then I noticed that girls were also requesting photos. Turns out, the girls were just total look-a-likes. “Who are you supposed to be?” I asked sheepishly. “We’re Nana O. and Nana K. from the Nana manga!” they replied in sync.

O….K…. A little research reveals that they’re anime punk rock grrrrls. Favorite designer: Vivienne Westwood. Favorite band: Sex Pistols. Sweet! Proves that even a sorority girl or a punk rocker could feel at home here.

“Look, Mom, it’s a little girl!” My little girl pointed to one even smaller; we weren’t the only ones who made Geek.Kon a family affair. This wee one was decked out in a kimono and a hot pink wig. “What is she?” Phoebe asked her mother, who had on a matching getup with a platinum wig. The woman leaned in and said, “Oh! She’s a little soul reaper.” I must have appeared slightly horrified while Phoebe merely looked confused. The woman paused, a pause I took to mean 'let me rephrase that for a child’s ears.' She was really just trying to think of a better way to explain it: “Like a… kind of like a death god.” Polite nods all around.

We passed a room full of people playing Magic: The Gathering. I noted that out of the couple dozen or so players, only one was female. We stopped into the board game room for a moment to say hi to our pal J.M. Rasmussen, who was busily presiding over a full room as well. Gamers were bent over boards including Star Wars Monopoly and Arkham Horror. Next in line was a video game room, where an Inuyasha tournament was in full swing.

We stopped back out at the registration table to catch up with Louise Behnke, the UW senior who co-chaired Geek.Kon and helped dream the whole weekend into being. I wanted to know how many people had actually signed in so far, knowing that they had originally envisioned about 200 attendees. Turns out, as of 3:30, no one had really counted. “I can do that now!” Louise said, grabbing the sheaf of registration sheets. While she tallied up the numbers, I talked to a woman who was snapping photos nearby. Pat told me she was a “newbie” photographer. I told her my daughter and I were “newbies” all around. Then I noticed a slight resemblance. Yep, Pat was Louise’s mother—both of her parents were in attendance, having traveled down from Appleton to support their daughter’s vision. I remarked on how impressive the whole thing was. “We are extremely proud of her,” Pat said. "She did a great job."

Louise had finished counting. “Well, there’s seven hundred names here, and we had six hundred preregistered, soooo…” Her huge smile said it all. “None of us slept last night! It was halfway between Christmas, and just being really, really excited.” The fact that they had to move all of the desks from every classroom in the Humanities building into two rooms also contributed to their sleeplessness. “You wouldn’t believe how many desks fit into a UW classroom! I was so afraid that overnight, someone would move them all back, and we would have to do it all over again this morning.” As Phoebe wandered off to converse with what looked like a giant golden robot, Louise went on to praise everyone involved. “The city of Madison is so, so wonderful,” she exclaimed, adding that from security to the press to volunteers and Kon-goers, all had interacted perfectly thus far.

I went over to rescue my child from the robot. “What is this thing?” she was asking with typical first-grade aplomb. The bespectacled owner said, “It’s a Dalek! It’s an evil robot that can destroy the universe…but it can’t go up stairs.” Alan Sponem told us he had built the Dr. Who model himself, and was on a panel later. “Oh, which panel?” I asked. “The one on how to build your own Dalek!” Naturally.

Walking back into the building we heard yet another malevolent “Mwahahahaha!” echoing through the hallway. “That keeps scaring me, Mom!” Phoebe said. True, it was a familiar refrain. I loved the DIY spirit that permeated Geek.Kon. Signs affixed to the walls with blue tape were full of quotes from the Kon’s planners: “I’m going to figure out exactly how many hours are in a day.” “Tell them they’re getting exactly what they paid for!” (Admission was free.) Artist’s Alley was full of vendors selling handmade hats, dice bags, gloves, and accessories. There was a whole room dedicated to other regional conventions, and a room hosting a Cosplay workshop.

To cap off our day of geekiness, despite the intrigue of watching some LARP, I decided the most kid-friendly option was the masquerade. Once again, as a newbie, I figured this would be a costume contest. And it was, but it was also a theatrical spectacle and a lesson in craftsmanship. We entered the hall on the heels of a presentation by Luke Ski. Perusing Luke Ski’s merch table and looking up at the blank movie screen, Phoebe said, “Is this like a video tape or something?” A boy approximately two years her senior, wearing a “Warrior and Warrior XI” tshirt (his father had on a matching shirt) shot her a withering look and said, “It’s a DVD.” Oh. Duh. There were many highlights of the masquerade, including a hilarious rendition of the Macarena set to the Star Wars theme song. Thanks to Phil Ejercito, here are photos of some of the winners.

This guy, Protector of Love and Peace, was Phoebe's favorite, because he yelled "Peace and love!" repeatedly, engaging the hundred or so onlookers in a rousing cheer. He won the MC Choice award for getting the crowd going.

These two were a mother/daughter pair. Mom was Padme from Star Wars, and grabbed the Best Craftsman Award. Her two-year-old daughter was Marie Antoinette, and fittingly won for Best Young Fan (after which she obligingly, and adorably, batted her eyes behind her fan).

A trio of adept seamstresses, these young ladies, all college seniors, won Best in Show. They included Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter, Charlotte Orlean of Castlevania, and Selphie Tilmitt from Final Fantasy VII. (thanks, Wikipedia!) Their skit, entitled "Buyer's Remorse," was priceless, a commentary on rabid fans who will buy any product as long as it has their favorite character on it. Not only did the skit contain the word "badonkadonk," which I'm guessing is a word seldom heard at this type of convention, it offered this priceless exchange:
Luna: "Well, at least you didn't buy that carbonated water called Final Fantasy Potion."
Selphie: "Um...(the others gasp in dismay)It tastes like shit getting boiled in Listerine!"
(sidenote: this was the only PG-13 moment we experienced at Geek.Kon. I'm sure there were others, though. One Kon-goer told me, "It's like Halloween, only with more perverts.")

Dark Link was part of the Legend of Zelda crew, which took home the Best Group award, and though he was arguably the scariest one in the room, he was the one Phoebe wanted to speak to. She looked him straight in his bloodred eyes and asked, "Is that a real sword?" Dark Link took the time to show her that the sword was made of fiberglass. "Did you make your own costume?" she asked, peering at his pointy ears. He politely showed us the detailed leather work he had done on his boots, sheath and coat. I was impressed. In the middle of our conversation he had to take off when Link (like Dark Link, but heroic), yelled, "Hey, we're hitting Red Robin!"

Upon leaving Geek.Kon, I peeked into the LAN room. There were about 20 gamers strolling about, Starbursts strewn on tables, bags of cookies and chips open next to the world's biggest computer monitor. Looks like it turned out to be a party after all! In the courtyard, WSUM was setting up for a dance mixer. There was still a line at the registration table. Louise was standing by the table, and as we exited, I shouted back over my shoulder, "How's it going?" She replied with an enthusiastic double thumbs up. "Great so far!"

Congratulations to Louise and all involved in Geek.Kon, for setting an example for this mom and daughter and all of Madison. It's the key to one of life's greatest blessings: You don't have to be hip to be cool. Sometimes, you just have work hard, and be nice.

Thanks to Phil Ejercito for the photos. See more at his website: http://www.cfuct.org/