A monthly column about the strange (at least from the outside looking in) lifestyle of a modern, large family.
Image: Matthew Naude
I have always been exceptionally proud of my nerd status until I went to Comic Con Cape Town for the first time last weekend.
The event did not make me ashamed of my nerdiness, but it did open my eyes to just how little nerd cred I actually had vs how much I thought I had. It was mortifying.
For starters, I only recognised about 25% of the cosplay characters. This was not, of course, because the costumes were bad. Quite the opposite. It was because I hadn’t watched TV or played games in years. This was a conscious decision since I have a screen addiction. Movies and books are the media that satiate my entertainment needs without causing me to spin in a sleep deprived spiral, so when I went to Comic Con for the first time on Sunday May 4 — otherwise known as Star Wars Day — I was lucky enough to see a plethora of Star Wars, Marvel, DC and book-based characters that I recognised, but not any of the others.
The other reason my nerd cred tumbled was because I fumbled with all my new tech — my mics and selfie stick. I know none of those are new, but I didn't need them when I last covered a story like this — yes, I am that old.
As a result, I only got a tiny amount of usable video, and, also as a result, I almost lost Chewie’s roar.
Now, for the uninitiated, let me initiate you — because if there is one thing I do at least know, it’s my Star Wars characters — pre-2000s at least. I do also happen to know who Kylo Ren is, but only because Eldest pointed out a cosplayer dressed as him before she informed me that he was an example of how she knew that she still only “crushed on” bad boys.
Tangent aside, let me introduce you to Chewie, short for Chewbacca. He is a nearly three-metre-tall Wookie, a furry alien race, from the Star Wars universe. I didn’t know that this needed explanation until my niece, who also accompanied us to Comic Con — and who knows anime backwards and forwards — asked me who Chewie was after I told her that I was stalking him.
I had spent most of the day taking a shitload of video and pictures and, due to the crowds, the selfie stick had become my best friend. It gave me a height advantage. I had been hoisting the stick in the air, with the trigger cable unplugged, until I found Chewie and couldn’t resist taking a selfie with him.
The selfie with Chewie that started all the drama of the rest of the day.
Image: Lauren O'Connor-May
I plugged in the cable and posed with the Wookie — who was actually comedian Mark Palmer in disguise.
Then he took the selfie stick and made a hilarious video of himself roaring, with the phone filming from overhead.
The crowd loved it. I loved it, and I was walking on a Chewie high until I reviewed some of my footage. The best videos, including the one of Chewie, had no sound. I had inadvertently silenced all my videos after taking a selfie with Chewie because I had forgotten to unplug the trigger cable.
Argh!
But we still had a few hours of Comic Con left, and I still had 20% battery power. So, while Eldest and my nieces had a late lunch, I began my Wookie-finding mission.
This was easier said than done. It turns out that an exceptionally tall and hairy alien is not easy to find in a Comic Con crowd. He’d left his usual haunt at the Children’s Hospital Trust booth, and I was told he would be back within an hour.
So I started a stakeout, and while I waited, I took pics and videos of random cosplayers. This was a mistake because my battery power soon dipped into single digits, and that's when I decided to give up. My Chewie chasing days were over, I decided. I was too old; the tech had beaten me, the characters confounded me, and the conversations of my Gen Z companions bemused me. The whole thing was a wash, I decided, as I packed up my equipment and used my last battery power to call my daughter.
“But Chewie is here,” Eldest declared. “He’s judging the cosplay competition.”
With a sudden burst of renewed vigour, I dashed to the escalator, navigated down two floors, weaved around Spidermen, Wolverines, Deadpools, Jedi, Darth Vaders and about a thousand Princess Leias, just to get to the main hall as the competition ended.
Chewie was long gone.
Eldest and my nieces found me there, and we decided to call it a day, but as we made our way to the lifts, I stopped one last time to greet an acquaintance. She listened consolingly to my sad story of Chewie mischance until she stared over my shoulder and suddenly said: “But there’s Chewie!"
My niece and I dashed after him. He slowed when he noticed me jogging alongside his leisurely stroll, and kindly consented to film the video again.
While I assembled my selfie stick and fiddled to get the camera open — and accidentally filmed the assembling crowd of Chewie fans also wanting a pic — he pointed his hairy fingers at my screen and guided me along. Finally, I watched as Chewie reshot the video before giving my phone back, just as the battery died.
By then, the eager fans had become a mini mob — albeit a calm and jovial one, which included the whole Star Wars ensemble, and Chewie patiently posed for photo after photo, including one of Eldest and my niece, who still had ample battery power, thankfully.
My niece as Bill Cipher from Gravity Falls, Mark Palmer as Chewbacca and Eldest as Buggy from One Piece.
Image: Lauren O'Connor-May
What a trooper – though not a stormtrooper.
The day was full of more surprises when, to my delight, I discovered that I could overlay the silent videos with music and patch something together.
I guess there’s hope for this Gen Xer yet.