The Nerd Next Door

It's no secret among our friends and family that, besides our twin boys, my wife has another child.

Of course, that bouncing bundle of joy is 41 years old with thinning salt-and-pepper hair, a little extra around the waist, and a couple of tattoos.  You're reading his inaugural blog right now.

Long before my wife and I first met, I was a 'card-carrying nerd-boy': I played Dungeons and Dragons, read comic books, spaced out on video games, collected action figures, and could recite lines from "Star Wars" with little effort.  While the other boys in our Queens neighborhood were joining sports teams, I was content to sit and watch episodes of Voltron or read the latest exploits of the X-Men.

Needless to say, I wasn't terribly popular.

Surviving the social pitfalls of grade and high-school, I made it to college where I happily encountered a number of folks who, like me, were fans of fringe.  We'd gather in someone's  basement to watch episodes of Ren and Stimpy.  We'd argue over which Doctor Who actor was the best.  We even had a campus humor magazine that gave us license to make fun of the jocks that had once been our great adversaries, and who now cheered when we gave them a ribbing.

It was during those college days when I met my wife.  And despite the fact that I was capable of reciting Monty Python's "Parrot Sketch" with little effort, somehow she still fell for me (trust me, I'm still sorting that one out).

The years have done little to diminish my geeky lifestyle.  Nor have they done anything to squelch my other 'lovable' quirks, such as bawling at the end of a "Harry Potter" film, or ignoring household chores in favor of building more fence for my yearly Halloween cemetery display.  Believe me, my wife just ADORES the fact that our shed is slowly being overtaken by tombstones, inflatables, and other sinister set-ups (that dripping sound you hear is sarcasm).

Fortunately, these days we appear to be something of a geek Renaissance.  The stigmata of being a 'brain', a comic book collector, or a 'Trekker' is not quite what it used to be.  Of course, there will always the 'cool kids' and the 'nerds' and, sadly, the bullying that comes with those unfortunate distinctions (we'll save my bullying rant for another blog); but these days you can just as easily hear some Lacrosse players discuss the "Green Lantern" film as you would kids in a comic shop. 

Meanwhile for us grown-ups, the chatter around the office coffee station could just as easily center around the Yankees' latest win as it could about the previous night's guild gathering in "World of Warcraft."  The stereotypes are (thankfully) alot harder to distinguish these days.

As I said earlier, we've got twins -- seven years old to be exact.  And I take great delight at sitting down with them to watch the latest incarnation of Scooby Doo or to fumble my way through a round of Pokemon Cards.  But being a responsible dad, I've also encouraged them to get involved in sports and other activities.  I may not be terribly well-rounded, but my hope is that they will be.

So my fellow Levittowners: if your special someone rolls their eyes as you clear space on your bureau for a new Spider-Man statue, or scratches their head as you rant over differences between the 'True Blood' TV series and the books they're based on -- take delight in knowing that he or she had alot of choices out there in the dating pool.  But you, my geeky friend, won out!