Perhaps you’ve heard of the excitement surrounding the beginning of the end of Battlestar Galactica.
Really? What? You don’t know any sci fi geeks?
Kurt and Kathy had a party to celebrate this event.
Willie and I brought the BBQed wienies.
It’s hard to enjoy a show’s ending when you’ve never watched it to begin with, which is where I found myself.
I know, I know – why was I even there?
What do you mean, why was I even there? What are you, nuts? People! Just because we’re in a depression does not mean that there shouldn’t be parties – even if you don’t know why they’re being held.
So while the majority of the crowd gathered in the living room for an hour of dork-ish bonding over a TV show, William Throckmorton the III, RD, Jeff, and I – aka the NON-dorks – sat in the kitchen, drinking beer and talking about Dune.
RD took a drink. “That’s my point! See, if you – hic! – consider the folding of space, see, that’s how we’re going to travel in the future. We’re going to fold space.”
Willie was lost. He had not read the book but had only seen the movie. “Fold space?”
“Rather than actually traveling from one point to another, we fold our departure location over our arrival location. Folding. With the spice mélange.”
“The spice whaaaa?”
“It’s all in the books. First,” RD said, “there was Dune. Then there was Dune Messiah. Then – wait. Was it Children of Dune and then God Emperor Dune? Or was it the other way around?”
“Oh, sheesh, eRD,” I said, “Don’t ask me. I read them in high school. Probably while listening to Rush.”
“You shall be called Muad’Dib,” intoned Jeff, a quote from the book.
“Nice!” I said. “Is that how it’s going to be, we’re going to try to out-quote each other? Tell us of your home world, Usul.”
“Showing off is an unattractive trait, Pearl,” Jeff said.
“Is there anything that makes you feel older than quotes?” RD shook his head. “I quoted a line from Monty Python’s Holy Grail the other day to my students and they looked at me as if I’d just meowed at them.”
“That’s how you know you’re old,” I said. “When you start quoting silly shit and no one gets it.”
“Just how many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?” said Willie.
We all chimed in at once: “One. Tuh-hoooooooo! Thrrrrreeee. Three.”
“See?” Jeff said. “We’re not old yet. Well, not me. You are. And you are for sure. But not me.”
RD gazed thoughtfully into his glass and pushed a remaining ice cube with his index finger. “Wuv,” he said. “Twoo wuv, will fowow you foweva.”
“Mawage,” I said. “Mawage is whut bwings us togedda today.”
Jeff cackled joyously. “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You keeled my father. Prepare to die.”
“I’m getting a headache. Princess Bride now?” Willie said. “Who wants a beer?”
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you attend a party with multiple levels of geeks.
Have fun storming the castle!
GREAT AMERICAN ECLIPSE FROM OUR BACK YARD
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