Category Archives: Commentary

Now for Something Completely Different: My Teen Babysits??

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Meeting two of Monty Python’s founding fathers had been a dream of mine since I was a kid, but it wouldn’t have happened if I let my worries about allowing my teen to babysit get in the way.

 Post originally ran in GeekMom on Dec. 9, 2016.

I’ve been a mom for 14 years now.

I’ve comforted nightmares, patched bruises, and wiped noses. I’ve held hands during first steps, calmed fears of darkness and scary movies, and celebrated victories like riding a bike or swimming across a pool. There have been road trips, school pageants, and baptisms. We’ve faced funerals, playground politics, and family crises. I’ve even spent two horrifying sleepless nights in the hospital watching one child conquer pneumonia and bronchitis.

In the process, I’ve watched my oldest daughter, Molly, turn into a young, independent teen, and my youngest, Erin, become an active second grader.

One would think that, by this point, I would be pretty well versed in this whole “parenting” thing. I did too–until it was time to let one of them babysit the other.

The idea of leaving my “babies” home alone was a completely new concept to me. I grew up in a house with a live-in grandparent who watched us on the rare occasion my parents went out. My brother was seven years older than me—the same age difference between my own two children—but I don’t remember him being “in charge” without other adults around.

I had friends and classmates whose parents both worked long jobs, were divorced, or, in one case, were neglectfully absent due to substance abuse problems. To me being “home alone” without adult supervision seemed unfathomable.

As for my own kids, my parents watched my oldest until my mother passed away. My oldest was six then, and our youngest wasn’t born until a year later. Then, when we went out, one of my husband’s former students, whom we knew well, would watch then, as well as my father from time to time.

However, my husband reminded me when Molly turned 14 it was time to let her watch her little sister… on her own. Gulp!

When it was announced in May (the same month my daughter turned that fateful age) tickets were on sale to see two of the founders of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, John Cleese and Eric Idle, I immediately went online and purchased two of the best seats in the house. Then I crumbled slowly into a panic over the next seven months.

What had I done? How will my kids cope on their own? They argue constantly. The world is filled with creepy people in vans, rabid wolves, tornadoes, and earthquakes… and sharp corners.

One thing they never tell you when you become a mom is how violent your unnecessary premonitions become. What if she falls on scissors? What if they stand on the bathtub and fall? What if they see YouTube video on making Molotov cocktails… and try it in the kitchen near that gas stove?

My husband, Rick, who had “taken care of his little brother on his own” since he was ten, said I was being ridiculous. He had to “cook,” “clean,” “get him to bed,” “re-wire the house,” “build their own beds,” and blah, blah, blah.

Okay, okay, I get it. I’m over-reacting. I had to keep reminding myself that being able to see these two men is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for me. The Pythons were like The Beatles to me. I’ve memorized their skits and movies and even made a Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch to celebrate the anniversary of Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

They are both in their 70s, and there likely would be no more “live” Monty Python tours after this–definitely not with the whole crew. Graham Chapman is long passed on, and it was recently announced fellow Python Terry Jones was diagnosed with a progressive form of dementia. There are very few “celebrities” I would fangirl for, but the Pythons are at the top of that weird list.

However, every loving parent knows that “first times” are always terrifying. Whether it’s sending them off to pre-K, dropping them off for an overnight visit with family, handing them over the keys to the family car, or (gasp) leaving home for college.

As a result, an event I would otherwise have been talking about enthusiastically I hardly

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It took two of my favorite comics, a patient spouse, and a “security watch,” of all things, to make my first night leaving my teen in charge less nerve-wracking. Image: Rick Tate

mentioned the entire summer and following autumn. I didn’t help that I kept seeing Cleese’s constant lamenting about sluggish ticket sales in El Paso on his Twitter feed. This couldn’t be a good sign. Was it an omen? Maybe I should cancel.

When the day arrived, my father (our only local relative) was out-of-town, and I felt a bubble of eerie isolation surrounding the home. We ordered the girls a pizza, and my husband gave Molly my cheap flip phone so she could text him in an emergency.

This meant I was left without a phone, or more specifically, without a lifeline to the kids. What if I needed to call them? He assured me it would be fine. He didn’t want me constantly checking my phone, but I needed some sort of “date night” security blanket. In a rush, I grabbed an old fob watch and carried it with me. My only logic to this move was I could check to see how long we’d been away–as if there some statute of limitations to them being good. If we were gone longer than two hours, then all hell would break loose.

My perpetual trepidation was constantly in the foreground of my mind. When the ushers opened the main theatre, Rick sent a quick text to say the show is going to start soon and he was putting the phone on quiet mode. Molly texted back that everything was fine.

“For now,” I thought.

I kept running a little prayer in my head over and over, “please let them be okay,” although who was I kidding? It should have been “please let me be okay.” I wondered if there was a way I could hijack Rick’s phone on the way to the bathroom and zip a quick note to the girls.

No dice. It was firmly in his pocket, but at least I had my watch, and I knew the show was about to start at 8 p.m. When the little stage lights went on, and Cleese and Idle wandered on stage, I got a moment of giddiness… then checked the time. It was 8:04 p.m. Somehow this was comforting. Throughout the first half, where they talked about their histories, showed film clips, and read hilarious skits, I kept checking the watch as if it was somehow going to give me a magical glimpse of home.

Seriously, what was my problem? I had wanted to see these guys (even if it was just two of them) in person for more than 30 years. I needed to let go of my worries and enjoy myself. Yet, my mind kept wandering from the show to how my girls were doing at home, and by intermission I made Rick send a text. Actually, he was already doing it when I asked.

All calm back at the ranch, apparently. My husband asked if I was enjoying the show.

Of course I was, except for that part of my brain releasing that little medley of disaster scenarios.

I glanced at the watch, which had made a nice indention in the palm of my hand. Nine o’clock and the second half was about to start.

“They could easily go another hour,” my husband said happily.

I inhaled deeply. A lot could happen in one hour.

By the time the second half of the show began, something very strange started happening. I slowly “forgot” to worry and begin really enjoying myself. I laughed more genuinely at these men’s re-enacting of favorite sketches and film clips of iconic scenes from The Holy Grail and Life of Brian.

 “We dine well here in Camelot
We eat ham and jam and spam a lot!!!

Even through my worries were easing, the girls were still floating around in my head, although not so much near the front. I had remembered I wanted to show Molly Holy Grail but not Brian quite yet. Wait a few years on that one.

By now I was having such a good time, I had even neglected to grip the fob watch, and the mark on my hand had disappeared. The show ended with Idle leading an enthusiastic audience in “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,” and we all stood up and sang along:

“You’ll see it’s all a show,
Keep ’em laughing as you go.
Just remember that the last laugh is on you!”

After the show, we waited a few moments for the crowd to thin out, then headed quickly out of the theatre. I couldn’t wait to get home to my children. Parked in front of the entrance was a large, white limo with a few hopeful fans lingering around it. We ignored it. Had to get home to the girls. Probably a “decoy,” anyway.

We were parked on the other side of the building, and I found myself speedily walking around the back to get to the car. As we passed the “backstage” door, we saw a small gathering of people.

Not massive but big enough to be suspect. Then I noticed Cleese’s head looming over the rest of the crowd. At that moment, I did something “awful.” I forgot who I was, for a bit… at least in terms of being a parent. I grabbed my nice little leaflet with the caricature of the two Pythons and made my way into the crowd. Idle was also hidden in the midst of them. I managed to meet him first and thanked him for being such a big part of my growing up (at least that’s what I hope I said; no telling what actually came out of my mouth). He signed my leaflet, and I managed to make my way to Cleese and tell him similarly as he added his signature to the paper. I had just met two of my comedy heroes, and I was practically skipping back to the car.

I was coming down from my middle-aged fangirling when a sudden wave of panic hit me: I had let my guard down and not thought of my children for a few moments. What kind of parent was I?

Then my husband sent one last text to Molly before driving home and got that familiar “bleep” back with a note saying all was well and “see you soon.” My nerves suddenly calmed. Yes, all was well.

It is right for parents to worry about their children’s well-being, but I had been clinging so desperately to the torturous visions of my own over-protective mind that I never realized part of their “well-being” was to learn self-reliance and independence.

Molly needed to take on the responsibility of caring for her little sister. As a result, she began looking at little sister as less of an “annoyance” and more as an actual person. This was, like her, a very special, precious thing to her parents. She was going to do the best job she could to keep her safe.

Erin also needed to realize, even when her parents were away, they still love her. She needed to know she could rely on her big sister and to not be afraid to have us out of her sight.

My lesson was the hardest.

I needed to know I could trust them. I had to trust my teen to do what’s best in the case of emergency and to know we now see her as a responsible, smart, and resourceful young woman. I had to trust my youngest to follow instructions, get herself ready for bed, and to take on more small chores of her own.

I had to trust they would be okay and that being away from Mom and Dad for an evening wasn’t going to cause any permanent trauma… to me.

When we got home, Erin was already in her pajamas, but she had waited up for us so she could hug us goodnight. The house was clean, the pets were alive, there were no signs of flooding, smoke damage, or any of the other Biblical-level plagues I had concocted happening in my mind.

They were happy. They were unhurt. They were… just fine.

“Mom, I missed you,” Erin announced, running up to hug us as we entered the house. “We had a fun time.”

At that point, my guilt for “abandoning” my kids had vanished, and it was replaced with relief we all made it through the night… but even more with pride in my children.

Then, before heading to bed, she asked, “When can Molly watch me again?”

The next day, we bought tickets to a show the following month.

A Family ‘Breaking Bad’ Adventure

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Breaking Bad may not be a family-friendly show by any means, but it made for some goofy family adventures around Albuquerque. Image: Lisa Kay Tate

It all started quite innocently enough.

We had no intentions of taking it any further than just the one picture, you know, for recreational purposes.

 But, somewhere along the way, we begin following the icy blue trail of the do-it-yourself Breaking Bad tour of Albuquerque, N.M.

We visit Albuquerque often for short getaways when we haven’t planned a big trip for the summer. This year’s main venture in town was to be a day at the BioPark. Simple enough.

Then, when we checked into our restored Route 66 motor hotel and saw the little lobby brochure:

Breaking Bad RV Tours! Now Touring Better Call Saul Locations!”

Tours depart Thursday through Sunday mornings from Old Town.

“Can you believe this,” I said, holding up the brochure. “People actually pay to drive around in a kitschy RV and look at everyday houses and business, just because they were in a television show.”

“And for 75 bucks a pop, no less,” my husband scoffed, examining the information.

We’re not huge Breaking Bad fans. We’ve seen up to the third season, but had to take a break. Frankly, it makes me sad. Still, the writing, camera angles, and acting are excellent.

We tossed the brochure aside on the table and forgot about it until the following evening. We spent a fun, and hot, day at the BioPark, had an evening swim, ate dinner, and were traveling up and down Central, waiting to see some neon lights flicker on.

On the way, we passed The Dog House Drive In.

“That was in the show,” my husband said. “Remember?”

“It is a cool-looking place,” I said. Without even thinking, I grabbed the camera and did a drive-by picture.

Then we passed the hideously authentic old Crossroads Motel, where we actually thought we saw “something going down.” Turned out to be college kids getting pictures of a Breaking Bad site.

We passed Burt’s Tiki Lounge, seen in the show. We usually get Tiki bar photos, anyways, because we like tiki stuff. Nothing to do with Breaking Bad, we assured ourselves.

It was then we crossed that dreaded line.

“You know,” my husband said, “we at least need to see Walter White’s house. It’s a real home”

This made me a little nervous, since words like “private residence” and so forth, tend to mean, “keep away,” with good reason. What if the owners don’t want people passing by?

As it turns out, we later read the owners of the home are apparently perfectly nice people, but thanks to the idiocy of some fans, they are a bit apprehensive of people on their own property. I read stories of countless morons wanting to relive notable moments from the show by hurling pizzas on their garage roof, among other acts of sheer disrespect for a person’s domain. So, stay off their lawn and driveway, please.

Tour busses—and RVs, as the case may be—pass through all the time, so taking photos from the street is a common occurrence. The house is part of the tours. Still, I was getting increasingly apprehensive, because that’s what I do. This didn’t stop my husband, who got out his smart phone, and logged the street into the GPS. When we approached the neighborhood street, my husband thrust the camera my way and said, “Here, get it!”

I hastily held the camera out the window at elbow level and snapped a pic as we passed, not even looking through the viewer. The next moment played out like a scene from the show–if it were written by drunk cats.

“Okay, go!”

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it!”

“No really, let me see.”

I handed him the camera. This was the result of my efforts:

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Nothing to see here, carry on.

My husband cocked an eyebrow as my kids peeked over his shoulder and rolled their eyes.

“Really?” he asked.

“I panicked.”

Since the house is at the end of a cross street, my husband took the camera from me, drove around the block, and shot a couple of pictures heading towards the house up the street. All done. Yet, as we turned right to leave the neighborhood, the garage began opening.

Both my daughters screamed.

“Dad! Dad! They’re after us! Drive! Drive,” my oldest demanded.

“Are we going to get shot?” my youngest asked.

I had visions of a bald, intimidating Bryan Cranston walking out of his home to come after the intruders. Nobody followed us because nobody cared we took a generic Google Map style picture of the front of a house.

The questions from the back seat, however, didn’t cease until we were out among the businesses, which included a stop by Saul Goodman’s office.

The sports bar, now called Sinners N’ Saints, still had Saul Goodman’s Office info on the door and window including the bogus phone number and the welcoming “Se Habla Español.” That was pretty cool, so we got some shots of it as well. I got out of the car for this one.

That was it, though. We didn’t care about Jessie Pinkman’s house, and we didn’t know who “this Jimmy guy” was, anyway. We assumed he was one of Jesse’s hooligan pals, so we ignored those sites.

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The domiciles of Breaking Bad (clockwise from top left) Walter White’s home, Jesse Pinkman’s home, Jesse and Jane’s duplex and the official Breaking Bad tour RV. Images: Rick and Lisa Tate.

That night, we wandered around the peaceful Old Town Plaza. Most businesses were closed, but we enjoy sites more than souvenirs. We passed the little shop of The Candy Lady of Old Town, the sweet shop that produced the official prop blue meth seen in the television show.

It was probably upwards on $10 a bag, my husband estimated. I argued they probably had smaller bags for a couple of bucks, but it didn’t matter. We weren’t buying.

So we thought.

The next morning, my husband began looking over his phone at breakfast.

“Jesse’s house is actually pretty close,” he said, “and it’s really pretty.” We found the plush little neighborhood where Jesse’s house was, as well as the corner where he shared a duplex with his ill-fated landlord-cum-girlfriend, Jane.

We stopped by Old Town one last time to get a photo of the girls at the beautiful blue mosaic at the entrances. There, behind the girls, at the entrance, was the tour RV, getting ready to take a group past several of the sites we had toured and more, including lunch at a restaurant called Twisters (the stand-in for Los Pollo Hermanos).

The crowd was diverse, from a couple of college-aged boys to several “Grandma Big-purse,” tourist types. We were able to peek in the RV and noticed it was modified with some nice motor coach style seats. I had to admit, these RV guys had a good thing going.

Right around the corner from the departing tour was the now-open Candy Lady. Next door was the Routes Bicycle Tours of ABQ, who offer a Biking Bad Tour. For those interested, by the way, the Albuquerque Tourism & Sightseeing Factory also gives tours (and has a great online site map), Red Door Brewing Company hosts weekly Better Call Saul watching parties on Mondays, and the iconic purveyors of geeky donuts, Rebel Donuts, makes some nifty “Blue Sky” Breaking Bad inspired donuts. There is also craft beer, cocktails, t-shirts, fine art, and more offered at various local businesses.

“We might as well take a look at what the candy people have,” I said.

The Candy Lady’s Shop was filled with everything from trays of fudge to licorice from all over the world, but the aura of its part in the Breaking Bad legacy was prevalent. The back room held a large tray of the blue rock candy and some prop “Heisenberg” (Walter White’s street name) hats and glasses, I assume were for those wishing to do a little cosplay. We didn’t ask.

The friendly couple behind the counter was happy to show us the goods. It turned out we were both right on the cost. The big bag, identical to the prop meth used in the show, was $10, but it, of course, included a few little dime bags for distribution to friends. There were also a few little $1 cotton candy-flavored bags available, as well. Yes, all these things are available from them online.

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A trip down Central had several Breaking Bad sites including Burt’s Tiki Lounge, The Dog House and the oh, so luxurious Crossroads Motel. Images: Rick Tate and Lisa Tate

Thus, we finished our Breaking Bad adventure purchasing blue meth. The blue meth, to be exact. We got one $10 bag and a Los Pollos Hermanos shot glass filled with little bags, along with some little sugar skulls, a bag of German licorice for our teen, and a little VW bug filled with candy for our six-year-old.

I was happy just getting the little packs, but my husband noted, as the candy shop people explained, the $10 bag actually had, and I quote, “the Heisenberg clarity.”

As we headed back home via I-25, I got to thinking about why the heck we decided to spiral into this world of deviancy?

I’ve had relatives who have struggled horribly with drug addiction, and I know the pain it causes a family. I don’t even support recreational marijuana; that’s how extreme I’ve gotten from the experience.

So, why the heck did we spend a good evening and the following morning with our kids collecting photos and trinkets from a show about pair of meth dealers and their unscrupulous lawyer?

That’s just bad parenting. Right?

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The law office of Saul Goodman is actually a pretty nice sports bar. Image: Lisa Kay Tate

First of all, despite the meth-intensive show, neither the tours or the show itself advocate drug use. As a matter of fact, a good binge watch of Breaking Bad should do more than scare a person away from this lifestyle. Ironically, I would never let my kids, even my teenager, actually watch this show from which we traveled around seeing sites. One of the RV tour brochures even lists numbers for regional Narcotics Anonymous or Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services hotlines for those who might struggle with or know someone with a drug problem.

Still, we dropped some green on a baggie of candy meth. Why?

I realized the reason when we got home and picked up where we left off on the show. We also started Better Call Saul, which I’m already enjoying way more than it’s predecessor.

“Oooh, so that’s Jimmy,” I overheard myself saying at the beginning. “We need to get his nail salon next time we’re up there. Bob Odenkirk’s the man.”

The main reason we temporarily fell in with this unsavory crowd for a day or two could be summed up in one word: Albuquerque.

Those who live in well-represented filming locations like Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco, and even Albuquerque’s movie star neighbor, Santa Fe, are used to seeing their hometown as part of a television series or movies.

Those “badlands” from Albuquerque to El Paso are often relegated to a few westerns, a romp through Old Town, and a look at the borderlands from a wide-angle lens. There have been other movies and shows filmed in the area, but none that really show off the retro, quirkiness of making the Southwest your home.

It’s the murals on Central, the pottery light fixtures in the Route 66 diners, and the low camera angles that give you a sense of baking in the cloudless, yet amazingly, blue New Mexico and West Texas skies. It’s the neighborhoods, which vary from modern upscale to mid-century quaintness.

It’s the dilapidated strip malls mixed with the recently restored historic sites. It’s Blake’s Lotaburger. It’s the neon and Native American-inspired overpass art.

It was the references to the show’s “rival” DEA department, and my hometown, El Paso, and the gorgeous Sandia Mountains. More than anything, it’s getting beyond the tourist draws, and seeing the community off the main drag, good or bad, classy or trashy.

If we hadn’t ventured off the beaten path to see a few, non-descript homes or businesses, we never would have seen some beautiful gardens, creative public parks, front yard sculptures, and other hidden odds and ends that give any town its character.

It was also getting to see how a map and an RV can become a lucrative little business. It’s giving people, in search of a show about a very ugly side of reality, another reason to visit a very beautiful region of the country.

The main star of Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul isn’t some actor. It’s Albuquerque, and she’s giving an Emmy-worthy performance.

In that sense, “breaking bad” can be a very good thing.

Originally ran July 14, 2016 in GeekMom.com.

 

On The Art of Overextending Oneself

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My accumulation of Social Media pages is more cluttered than my actual life…if that’s even possible. Images: Lisa Kay Tate

Part two in my two-part series on Social Media in my life, which originally ran in GeekMom May 28, 2016. Read Part one here.

A while back I purchased a generic book at the local Barnes & Noble called 500 Drawing Prompts. It had no publisher listed. I just found it among those impulse book buys often seen in the store entry.

Drawing is one of my earliest joys, and I had been wanting to do more for fun and peace of mind. This book consisted of blank pages, some divided into two or more sections, with a brief drawing prompt: “bowl of soup,” “vampire,” “sun,” “alien spacecraft.” I thought this was a fantastic idea, and I would do one prompt a day for 500 days to keep my mind and creativity challenged.

I’m officially 197 days behind schedule.

This is typical of my thinking. I can’t just purchase something and think “this would be fun to have.” I have to turn it into an over-the-top goal to add it to a daily, weekly, or monthly regime. Otherwise, what’s the point of doing anything? Right?

I’m also behind on translating a screenplay-cum-book outline into prose. The story and plot are finished, I just need to translate the format. I promised myself one chapter a day, but this soon crumbled into one chapter every three weeks. Not good.

I maintain a stack of books, comics, and magazines to be read. Behind on that, too. My friends and family have purchased me some of the trendy adult color books “in case I’m ever bored.” Hahahahahahaha. Sorry, couldn’t help it. Sad thing is they’re pretty cool. I’ve got the Doctor Who and Sherlock books, one of the Harry Potters, and one I purchased for myself that’s an extreme mystery color-by-number. Of course, I’m working on a DIY for GeekMom later utilizing these books. I can’t just enjoy coloring for no reason, now can I?

I’ve mentioned this “buzzing bee” tendency briefly in my James May post, but since then the clutter has continued to accumulate. Not in a “hoarder” way, I promise. I try to maintain a tidy home: another distraction. I have to make sure I go through one room each month and purge, dust, straighten, and organize. I just can’t calm it down, which is why social media has not only become an outlet for me but a bit of a curse.

See, I work out of the house. This is a situation ideal for me right now because I get to be available for my family when they need me. It’s also bad because people assume that means I’m primarily a stay-at-home mom. I respect these parents greatly because I know how much work is involved, but I also have to make sure I keep up with my actual paying job as news (calendar) editor for a monthly local arts and entertainment guide. Most months, I actually have to work nearly all night for several nights in a row come deadline. I’ve been an insomniac for ages, so this fits fine, except for the occasional “wall hitting” emotional and physical crashes.

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I have so many things I want to make, read and enjoy…but I need to simply my schedule.

For years, the only “social media” I had was email. I checked before work in the morning and before bed. Less than an hour a day. About the time my second daughter was born, six years ago, we joined this thing called Facebook “just for family.” I only spend about a half hour a day tops on that, despite the fact I somehow have 370 friends. (I don’t know that many people, do I?)

I soon started writing some posts for a site called “IHOGeek” and started my own blogsite, both on WordPress, to keep all my posts together in one place. In about a year, I had built up several stories and started checking my “stats” (story hits) several times a day, a bit obsessively.

Next came Pinterest. I started it just to share my stories and projects. I only planned on having three boards. That’s morphed into 139 boards, 98.4 thousand pins, and 13.1 thousand followers. I’m really not sure how this one got so out of hand, but I look at the most of the time I do my late night work.

When I got picked up by GeekMom, I quit working with IHOGeek just to keep my schedule under control. Around the same time, my husband wanted to start a family site we called MinionFeeding101. I did three posts a week for the family site, of which I was getting pretty proud. Unfortunately, my husband’s schedule wasn’t conducive, so after two years of trying to build it up, he called it quits. The site is now dormant until I can get him back on board.

Still avoided Twitter. “Nope. Not doing it,” I thought. I heard comedian Ricky Gervais compare it once to the world’s largest bathroom wall, and every time I’d seen it I tended to agree. My husband was using Twitter for our MinionFeeding101 images, as well as Instagram, so I felt I didn’t need even mess with those. If I need to share an Instagram photo for GeekMom, which I haven’t done in awhile, I’ll do it through there.

I kept building up the sites. I joined DeviantArt because you can’t just draw for yourself anymore, and I share everything from GeekMom and DeviantArt on my Pinterest boards–and sometimes on Facebook. I started a Tumblr site and found I don’t like Tumblr at all. It’s the moronic slacker roommate of Social Media sites. It’s just a series of fan gifs and the occasional “I hate you if you don’t agree with my social view” memes.

I started to share my older movie-related posts on a site MoviePilot but found it similar to Tumblr in intelligence. I eventually got rid of my pages, but the process of getting my work OFF MoviePilot was an ordeal in itself.

Not long after, the wonderful uniting of the GeekMoms and GeekDads to create an even more diverse group of geeky parents occurred, and I made sure I joined them on the collaborative message board site, Slack. With so many great writers having so much to say, following that can be a little daunting. I keep up, though, even if I don’t often reply. It’s like the message board equivalent of being in a big room full of people of all walks of life having interesting conversations. You just don’t know where to jump in, or if you’re even invited into that particular circle right now.

That should be plenty to keep anyone busy and well linked (oh yeah, I joined LinkedIn primarily for my “day job” contacts). Honestly, I don’t like it. You’re not going to see me doing much on that.

And then I gave in and reluctantly joined Twitter last September.

I’ve pretty much concentrated on this one to share my work and build a reputation for sharing others’ creative achievements. I’ve amassed a few great artists and writers following me, and keep this on most of the time I’m working as well.

Does this social media attraction, sometimes distraction, sometimes borderline addiction, affect my everyday work? Most definitely! All these little social media pages and projects often weave themselves into my day, particularly when I’m bogged down with the mindless calendar duties. I need to have something on another screen in order to feel my mind is getting some stimulation. Yes, I have multiple monitors, just like the Batcave.

Without social media, my “need to keep busy” nature would fill in those gaps with more work. I tell myself that would be a good thing because that extra work would actually be productive rather than time wasting. I still have my projects lined up, and if I find myself at a time when I can just relax, I get a little jittery. I walk around the house thinking “what do I need to do; there must be something?”

I don’t have a smartphone, so I’m able to ignore this lure when I’m not working online. That’s a good thing, at least. I can walk the dog, wait for appointments, and sit at a restaurant without staring at a little flat rectangle (unless books count), but I’m not any better than anyone else here.

I check it often while I work on the computer. Who read my articles? Who liked my crafts and DIYs? Who put my artwork under their “favorites?”

Not only that but everything I do I wonder, “will this make a story?” “Do I share this one on Facebook or Twitter… or both?”

Oh sweet Mother Mary, what the heck is wrong with me?

I have to ask myself: why do I need that many people connecting with me via cyberspace, and why can’t I do anything without wondering if it needs to be swept out of my real-life world and into that social media web?

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Talent and good intentions don’t fill pages, sitting down and actually working on a project will.

I worry at times we’re all turning into the Wall-E scenario where we live vicariously through experiences on or screens. A 2015 CNN story stated teens and tweens spent around 9 hours a day checking their social media sites, and a 2016 report from Pew Research Center said 62 percent get their news via social media.

I do tend read news sites online more, but thankfully my teen doesn’t have a cell phone. Her social media (only Pinterest and e-mail allowed right now), is an after homework activity she spends about two hours on, at the most, on a little laptop computer she uses at her desk. She often gets bored with that and reads her fantasy and manga books. At least she’s bucking the trend.

I mentioned last week in my first half of my Social Media series, ‘Grand Tour’, DriveTribe, and The Social Media Fan Frenzy, people have this “big bowl of M&Ms” access to their favorite celebrities, via social media.

As far a maintaining our own sites, and sharing our own work, it’s more like a huge, fancy, decadent buffet. There’s so much we want to try, so we’ll just try a little of everything. This is especially true if you’re a creative type. Artists, writers, photographers, and musicians find social media outlets essential for sharing their work.

Unfortunately, like a buffet, it’s really easy to pile up the samples, until you’re plate if so full you can’t possibly consume it all and not be sick.

And, I’m absolutely stuffed.

So what do I do? What can we all do? We’ll, I believe the key to maintaining a healthy diet is moderation. Don’t eliminate, but cut back what we don’t need.

This should extend to my social media use. I get art and story ideas from Pinterest and DeviantArt. I’ll keep it. Tumblr is empty calories. I’m getting rid of that one soon.

If I’m not doing my actual editing or working on a story, there’s really no need to be on these sites. I’ll continue to keep only Twitter going while I’m editing, but everything else should return to the “once in a morning and once before bed routine.”

That way, I can get on top of my reading, my DIY projects, my workouts, my book, and that continually lurking sketchbook. I think I’ll get on that book right now and fill a few pages.

But first, I need to check Twitter to see who those 12 notifications and one DM are from.

Image: GrammarlyQuotes.

The Social Media Fan Frenzy: Case in Point “The Grand Tour”

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When the show formerly known as the Amazon Prime Motoring Show is officially became The Grand Tour, the hosts’ legions of social media fans are made sure everyone knew it.

Part one in my two-part series on Social Media in my life, which originally ran in GeekMom on May 12 2016.

After months of speculation, my boys of W. Chump & Sons, Jeremy Clarkson, James May and Richard Hammond, have finally settled on a real bonafide, official name for their new Amazon Prime Motoring Show, The Grand Tour.

But what I was most interested in as a result was this question: this trio knows how to amass fans on social media, but how much access to our favorite celebrities to we really need?

To provide the background:

Clarkson, May and Hammond’s announcement came at a good time, with BBC’s new Chris Evans-led Top Gear cranking up the trailers for their premiere on May 29.

Their simple name, Grand Tour, (which is perfect for their new “no studio tent tour format”) has been met with, as expected, a flood of social media hits, especially they are looking for more stops on their “grand tour,” an announcement made via their individual twitter accounts and the newly-created show’s Facebook page.

“So, the Grand Tour (GT for short) will come from a tent, which we will put up in a different location every week,” Clarkson announced on his Twitter page. “Your town?”

Within three hours of posting this, Clarkson got more than two thousand “likes,” and nearly 500 responses from “please come see us,” fans worldwide. Both May and Hammond had similar responses. Yes, I told them to come to Texas, but hey, I always need story material, and I’ll let them drive my dad’s Mustang GT, a family heirloom of 50 years.

Of course, they’ve also been staking their social media deck in other ways. All three individual hosts announced their own official Facebook pages within the past month and those now join several already-popular “former Top Gear hosts” fan sites.

My muse James May’s official page is listed as a “Health and Beauty” site, and has already gained more than 1.5 million followers, including many of the more than 2 million followers he pulled from Twitter.  Clarkson, listed under “scientist” and Hammond, listed as ‘Pet,” have amassed several thousand on their sites (although Clarkson leads the trio’s Twitter following with more than 6 million followers). Hammond, however, added an Instagram page recently and he’s moving up in followers.
Jeremy Clarkson got 12,000 hits, just for saying the name of the new show will be announced, but James May can get 8.8 thousand likes for a picture of Richard Hammond in an office plant and babushka. Really? Images: James May and Jeremy Clarkson official Twitter pages.

Jeremy Clarkson got 12,000 hits, just for saying the name of the new show will be announced, but James May can get 8.8 thousand likes for a picture of Richard Hammond in an office plant and babushka. Really? Images: James May and Jeremy Clarkson official Twitter pages.

But wait, there’s more. On almost the same day this trioannounced their Facebook pages, they announced their longtime collaborator, television Executive Director Andy Wilman, first official partnership with the “ambitious new digital media platform that will connect global audiences with motoring content,” DriveTribe.

The concept of the site is to structure car enthusiasts into “tribes,” depending on their own unique personalities and characteristics.

“Gamers have got Twitch, travelers have got TripAdvisor and fashion fans have got, oh, something or other too. But people who are into cars have got nowhere,” Hammond said in the site’s official press release. “There’s no grand-scale online motoring community where people can meet and share video, comments, information and opinion. DriveTribe will change that. And then some.”

They won’t be running the site themselves, as it will be under the leadership of tech savvy mavericks Ernesto Schmitt (founder and CEO of Beamly), and Jonathan Morris (previous CTO of Financial Times online). This news didn’t matter to fans. They are already vigorously glomming onto the site, which officially launches this fall, just like the newly christened Grand Tour.

Whether you love or hate these three, you have to admit, they are covering a lot of social media ground. Having followed this saga, I’ve begun to realize how much social media has become the quickest, most efficient, and sometimes most disturbing way of celebrities connecting with the public.

When I was a young teen, the information about a favorite actor or musician was limited to whatever read in magazines, saw on the television or movie screen, or heard on the radio. I kept my favorite station on all afternoon to hear the news of the latest single coming out. We didn’t have cable, so I found my music video fix weekly via Friday Night Videos, or when I visited friend’s house who had MTV. MTV, when you think of it, was kind a precursor to Twitter. We really didn’t want to watch anything, but that awesome video might come up next. Better keep tuned in just in case.

Today, with YouTube, we can see our favorite video anytime (and again and again, if we wish), be it music video, movie trailer or clip, or recent interview. This, in addition to a celebrity idol’s (or their “personal assistantsP) “insta-posts” on social media, make it way, way too easy to keep up with those famous folk who at one time in our world seemed so much further away.

This is the type of easy-access information current I like to refer to as the “big bowl of M&Ms” communication method (no product endorsement intended). These fingertip means of finding about — and reacting to another person — are just so tempting. You’re not really hungry, and these little tidbits of fun aren’t particularly good for you in large doses, but what’s one little handful here and there? We just want to see what our favorite celeb is up to. We’re not obsessed. Right?

We just check a Twitter feed in the morning, a Facebook exchange a little later on. Have they posted anything on Instagram? We take one “small handful” after another, and next thing we know the bowl is near empty, (along with the time we’ve had allotted for actually productivity), and we’ve successfully (albeit unintentionally) cyber-stalked a few high-profile strangers.

Now, before I sound like I’m wagging a judgmental finger at fellow computer-users, I need to point out I dip into that bowl often, as well. I’m an avid follower of this threesome. I’m also a writer and editor working from my home in my “day job,” which means that big, nummy colorful bowl of chocolatey candy-coated information is constantly right in front of me…and it is near impossible to ignore. I’ve had plenty of handfuls, believe me.

I follow all three of these men, and respond often, but I don’t expect a response. I do however, expect something else: I want people to read my work and make my little projects. I do this by constantly reposting my favorite posts. I don’t feel bad about doing this, since I’ve seen fellow writers and artists do similar. As a writer for GeekMom, I especially like to write about my geeky passions that I hope resonate with others of similar fandoms.

There are some great things about being able to connect with celebrities via social media:

• It is easier to get updates on the someone’s latest project, for example, we all now know about Grand Tour. Celebrities pushing a project don’t have to rely on the network or movie company to get the word out anymore. Sometimes, a simple “Watch for me tonight on BBC-Four” is all they need, and fans tune in. Often times, the fanbase becomes the best form as information sharing, since one good comment or interview will get retweeted, and shared countless times. Heck, I know what’s going on with people I don’t follow, because so many others retweet something. Twitter is the world’s largest informational ripple effect.

• It creates a “community” in a seemingly more isolated society. We read again and again about how people are plunging more into their own little isolated, narcissistic online worlds while becoming detached to those around them. I often worry about this. However, I’ve noticed a flip side to this issue. People who might otherwise have nothing in common are connecting via a similar “fandom” (often a person) via social media. I’ve made some “acquaintances” from all over the world, just because clicked “follow” on @MrJamesMay. Some people consider social media friends as one step away from “imaginary friends,” but really I’ve discovered it’s like having pen pals (which I did have as a kid, and no one said I was delusional). One “Twitter friend” direct messaged me about writing tips, and another read a Tweet about an online course I was taking, and offered to send me a book that might help. I will never meet these people in person, but it certainly is a treat to have them in my life. That’s pretty cool.

• It makes celebrities seem more like the humans they are. My mother used to lament that celebrities used to be “larger than life,” and had a mystique to them. I’ll admit some celebrities should take a lesson in decorum and poise from the past, but I do like the fact we can catch them “off the red carpet” sans make up and glamour. This is by their own accord, too, not through the lens of some paparazzi. They tweet pictures of their food, pets and family gatherings, which in reality are no more interesting then those of non-celebrities. Of course, like other human beings, people tweet or share Facebook posts to brag about something, and their “hey look where I am” tweets can be a little annoying to those of us with little disposable income. I’ve written before how I refuse to call myself a “fan” of any one person (I still do), because I don’t think people who opted to work in a pharmaceutical lab or run a family restaurant should ever consider themselves of lesser valuable than those who chose a career in front of a camera. Social media sites are pretty good levelers. A celebrity might photograph their feet overlooking the edge of their yacht, but their nappy toes are as ugly as everyone else’s.

However, there are also many problems with this quick-and-easy celebrity access as well:

• It’s a bit voyeuristic. There’s no “out of sight, out of mind” element, anymore. If a benefit of Twitter and Facebook feeds is making celebrities seem more, “human,” the dark side is they are inviting people too much into their lives. Is this a bad thing? Well, it is a little in the realm of “too much information.” Do I really need to see a crumb-covered lap, or every single view from a jet plane (often clouds)? No, but many of us feel we need to, and comment away. I even used Twitter to voice this concern in regards to one celebrity (okay, James May, dammit) who got more than three thousand likes for showing a picture of a half-eaten boxed dessert, and inquiring who took the other half.

“I can’t get enough people to read my stories, and this guy gets thousands of responses for bitching about a @#% pastry,” I wrote. I got a few likes, while that half-eaten pastry gained several more comments, not to mention a few invites from people willing to bring him a new one. Awww.

Also, it’s always nice to see people’s friends and families online, but I worry about too many people see what someone’s kids look like. This is the protective parent in me. I do include photos of my own children in my work, but they don’t get nearly the views a celebrity gets. I think if I were pretty well known, I would lay off the online reality show, and just post my silly projects for a while. I don’t always trust the cyber world.

• It creates a pied piper effect. Some celebrities are pounced on anything and everything they tweet or post. Sometimes, they even pose a question to their followers, and “Ping!” “Plunck!” “Tweet!” the responses pop up like magic. They dangle those quips, and the followers are there and ready.

I really don’t like it when celebrities use their fan influence to promote a political candidate or stance, but I won’t get into that issue, especially in this weird year in both the United States and United Kingdom.

I will include the names of bands, actors, artists, authors and more in my own posts, mostly in regards to something I’ve written or to promote something creative I think others would love to learn about.  I usually hashtag things with #MakeThings and #Draw for visual arts, #Write to help introduce people to my favorite writers, including comic book authors, and #WeAreTheMusicMakers for all things music related. I’m not afraid to admit James May has influenced my #MakeThings hashtag, but some people base their entire twitter names on the fact they are someone’s fan.

I’ll post about someone, but not directly to them, if it isn’t an actual reply. At least I try not to.

This leads to my final thought:

• Social Media can lead to a fandom run amok, and create obsessive addiction. This is something I’ve noticed following my former Top Gear hosts and other celebrity types that is kind of scary. There are fans who wake up every morning, and immediately direct a “good morning” post to their celebrity idol. I’ve also seen a few who do what I like to call “Twitter-baiting,” not just on occasion, but several times a day. I have to add, I do genuinely like many of these people, so I’m not giving any specifics or real tweets. These are typical of the comments:

“Hey @celebrityperson, what do you think of this picture?”

“I had a bacon sandwich today, I bet you would love this @favoriteactor. What do you have to say about that?”

“You’ve talked to me before, @personIlove, why won’t you respond again? Don’t you care anymore?”

Many people do this, and I’m not saying those who do are lesser people. Some of them are pretty funny and intelligent, but honestly too much of this practice creeps me out a little. I’ve seen one person whose happiness was based on the fact one celebrity responded to his Tweet. He spent a considerable amount of time trying to get him to do this again, with increasingly depressing and self-deprecating comments.

Please people, we’re better than this.

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Questions, photos and snarky comments: what else could a fan want? I bet Rainn Wilson has sold a few more books, thanks to his buddy Nathan Fillion. Images via Nathan Fillion official Facebook and Twitter, Mark Hamill official Twitter and Chris Pratt official Instagram.

Send  amusing anecdotes to celebrities sparingly. I’ve done this just for chuckles. Don’t, however, hang all your hopes upon hearing from them. I can’t stress this enough: celebrities don’t know us. We know who they are, quite a bit about them thanks to their own over-sharing, but we don’t know them, either.

I love James May’s style, on air persona and writings, but I don’t love him. This is because I don’t know him. Haven’t and never will meet him. I do, however, truly adore my husband and kids with all my heart. I love my pets and my friends and family, not always in that order. They are my reality.

When it all comes down to it, the responsibility of controlling our online relationship with celebrities lies with us, the information consumer.

I really can’t blame the “celebrities,” as much as I’d like to bust their egos at times, but their image is their product. Even on social media, I think they are in some way sharing an amplified version of themselves to help gain followers and fans, and, in the long run, sell records, movie tickets, books or whatever they’re pushing. In short, their outreach to their public is nothing personal. It’s business, and I don’t blame them. I would do it, too.

Sure, we could argue there have always been obsessive fans who buy every album, watch (and now purchase or download) every movie or show, and fill their shelves with every book, but it used to be our fandoms were limited to the stage, screen and red carpet. Now, we have access that goes far beyond this, awaiting every breath a celebrity takes, waiting for them to mention their breakfast so we can pounce upon his or her tweet with our own replies.

If we “respond” just as a way to be part of a silly chain of people creating a progressing story started by a celebrity comment, or mention that celebrity as a way to share our interests with others, that’s fine.

Just as long as our lives don’t hang in the balance of hoping that stranger on the other end of the cyber connection gives that all-important “like,” or moreover an actual comment.

Yes, I’ll be taking The Grand Tour along with Clarkson, Hammond and May, but if it doesn’t stop my way, I won’t be lying in a fetal position devastated that three strangers who make me laugh aren’t looking in my direction. I worry many other followers of celebrities (any celebrity) do invest too much in the approval of those in the public eye.

What we need to realize more than anything, is even when we do take part in this social media celebrity watching, it should be for one reason and one reason only: to have fun.

One of the best and cutest examples of this was a Tweet I saw from a dad with a young son a few months ago concerning another well-followed celebrity, actor Chris Pratt.

“My 5-year-old son just informed me he will direct the next Jurassic World film. How’s your schedule looking next month @prattprattpratt?”

I don’t know if Chris Pratt ever responded to this, but in this case, I sure hope he did.

Batmobile Dreamin’

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This New Mexico-based Batmobile replica was pretty darn close to the real thing. Image: Rick Tate.

Post originally ran in GeekMom on April 21, 2016.

James Bond and Batman.

These two names are answers to many questions that have been posed to me, but mostly “whose fictional cars would you most like to have?”

It’s really no contest. DeLoreans seem sleazy to me (sorry, Doc Brown), and I never saw an episode of Knight Rider. Scooby Doo’s Mystery Mobile might smell a little gamey, and I’m afraid the transformer Bumblebee just might try to kill me. Han Solo’s and Wonder Woman’s rides don’t count since those are both aircraft.

I do think Bond’s sleek Aston Martin is exquisite, and who doesn’t want to feel a little swanky every now and then? The Batmobile, however, is the car I want to drive. Yes, that wonderfully cheesy black (and sometimes very very dark grey) machine that has been everything from a modified Ford to a custom-made military-grade fighting machine is on my radar the most.

Yes, more than any car, I want to drive the Batmobile.

I’ve mentioned in a past story, Batman is my earliest “fandom” to memory, and he’s still my favorite superhero. I would be happy tooling around in any incarnation of his vehicle, and being able to do so consistently teeters near the top of my bucket list. I still have a little circa 1967 Corgi Batmobile that I “liberated” from my older brother when I was a kid, and it is still a prized possession, despite showing its use. Yes, he knows I have it.

I remember getting excited seeing a static, non-functioning version of the original Tim Burton-era vehicle at one of the Six Flags theme parks. I also dragged my entire family across town to a Wal-Mart parking lot just to get our picture with the actual Tumbler and Bat Pod leading from The Dark Knight Rises, which was traveling around the country as part of a promotional Tumbler Tour in the summer of 2012.

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We got to visit the Tumbler and Bat Pod from The Dark Knight Rises, back in 2012, but there were strict “no touch” rules. Images: Rick Tate.

I was also doing a story on comic-con etiquette and spoke with a man named Jim Johnson. He served as the official “Transportation Manager for Wayne Enterprises” for the tour. He told me most people were very appreciative of getting a chance to encounter these gas-powered movie stars.

“Most people are really good around the car,” he said and added people all seem to realize the one main rule was “no touching” and respected that.

 If we weren’t allowed to touch the car that meant no entering the car, much less driving it.

Step away from the Batmobile, Citizen of Gotham.

Even so, Johnson did fire up the Tumbler and, although still idling, spectators heard the force of its engine. I’m not going to lie. That was a thrill.

So, when the opportunity arose to see a working reproduction of the original, old school Batmobile at El Paso Comic Con, I couldn’t pass that up.

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Regional cosplayers and artists never fail to impress me. Hearing the creative origins of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles from creator Kevin Eastman at our local con (bottom right) was also a treat. Images: Rick Tate.

El Paso Comic Con (EPCON) returned to El Paso Convention Center this past April this year under “new management,” and featured all the trappings of a worthy con: an extensive expo, celebrity photo ops, panels, a zombie escape experience, an abundant number of local and visiting artists, charity auction, cosplay aplenty, live entertainment, and even a preview night “Nerd Rave” dance party.

This first time out of the chute wasn’t perfect. The program lacked that ever-important floor plan map, and the expo entry fee may have been a little high for the average family. Nevertheless, it had some fantastic elements to it, particularly its lineup of geeky star cars, which hearkened me back to my childhood when my dad would take me to the Darryl Starbird Custom Car Show. These “celebrity cars” included the Breaking Bad RV, a custom-made Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle van created by former Power Rangers cast member and stuntman Jason Ybarra, a Jeep Wrangler from Jurassic Park, a custom creation by the local charity-minded fan group El Paso Ghostbusters… and a 1966 era Batmobile.

Most of these were great photo ops (we forewent the Breaking Bad interior tour since it just didn’t seem right to take our daughters into a “meth lab”), but we donated our ten bucks to sit in that Batmobile.

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Other featured star cars included the TNMT van, Jurassic Park jeep, Breaking Bad RV, and locally grown Ghostbusters mobile. All images: Rick Tate.

The replica, known as the Albuquerque Batmobile, is part of the New Mexico Chapter of Star Car Central, whose nationwide inventory of geeky vehicles includes everything from the A-Team van to the xXx GTO. They help support groups like American Cancer Society, Paw and Stripes, and Make-A-Wish. This particular Batmobile-for-hire has made several convention and charitable appearances and is even available to pick up soldiers returning home from the airport, and to give rides to children in need. That alone makes the vehicle an actual superhero.

This car chassis is a 1972 Lincoln Continental, which matches the 1955 Lincoln Futura first used in the television show. Its owners, Mike and Khristine Esch, created the replica with functional TV FX and gadgets, as well body details nearly identical to the original.

The original Batmobile, by the way, was built in 1965 for $15,000, and sold to a private collector in 2013 for $4.6 million.

For me, being able to interact with a full-size Batmobile was the most fulfilling of experiences, above the appearances at the con of my first Batman and Robin, retro television icons Adam West and Burt Ward. I love West, but the idea of spending nearly $100 to meet another human being surrounded by “you’re not worthy” handlers and guards didn’t appeal to me. Besides, as cool as Mr. West is, he really isn’t Batman. Plus, I certainly wouldn’t ask an octogenarian to undergo the indignity of wearing his old costume to an autograph session. There were plenty of great Batman-centric cosplayers at the event to satisfy those goofy photo ops.

As for that Batmobile? Reproduction not, it was still really a Batmobile, and when I sat in it, I was Batman. Or Batgirl. Or Robin. It really didn’t matter which representative of the Bat universe I was, all I knew was I was in the driver’s seat, and The Joker better watch his back. Even my six-year-old, who took a picture sitting in my lap, had that unmistakable gleam in her eye when she put her hands on the Batmobile steering wheel and picked up the bright red Batphone.

“Will this really go?” she asked anxiously.

Ah, yes. She gets it now, too.

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From the interior to parachute packs, I felt like the pride of Gotham City, circa 1966. All images: Rick Tate.

Unfortunately, this car was landlocked on the expo grounds for photo ops only. No starting up the engine, much less taking it out for a spin. Of course, I didn’t expect to be able to actually drive this vehicle, but just knowing someone else did produced a pang of envy. It was still a worthwhile experience, and since I learned in the car’s “Bat Fact” sheet that it averages a supersonic seven miles per gallon (I’m assuming on a convention hall floor), I was saving some fuel.

I might never get that opportunity to take the wheel and take one of these cars around the block, but I’ll keep seeking opportunities to experience it.

Judging from the line of Batfans in logo tees and cosplay waiting to get their pictures in the car, I know I’m not the only one who wants a chance to sit in the driver’s seat of the Caped Crusader’s wheels. Ward himself even got his picture in “Robin’s” passenger seat.

Author Mark Cotta Vaz explained the timeless nature of this car in his book Batmobile: The Complete History.

“The Batmobile is not just a crime-fighting car — it’s the ultimate vehicle of the imagination,” he writes of the car that made its comic debut in 1939. “And the Batmobile is still speeding forward, all these decades later.”

I still think of the horrendous line from 1997 franchise-destroying film Batman and Robin, when Robin (Chris O’Donnell) uttered “chicks dig the car.”

Yes, I do dig the car, Boy Wonder, but you better hand over the keys. I’m driving!

El Paso Comic Con’s sister event, Las Cruces Comic Con, is planned for Sept. 9-11, in Las Cruces, N.M.

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Of all my Batmobiles that old, beat-up Corgi model is still my prized possession.