Stardate: 20251121
Intro:
They say ‘never meet your heroes’. Generally, because they can never live up to how you build them in your mind. By and large that’s true, though I think the ghost of Fred Rogers wants a word.
In an earlier phase of my life, I was lucky enough to work for a company that loaned out big, mean-looking bodyguard types to a lot of local fan conventions to protect their guests from overly-adoring fans. Being a big mean-looking bodyguard type, I was often dispatched for a weekend to stand behind the officers of the Starship Enterprise (not saying which one), and glower at anyone who skipped lines or made an unwelcome attempt to hug the famous person. I never had to physically restrain any exuberant fans, the glower was enough.
Of course, you know I’m a giant nerd, so I completely got the impulse to glomp.
But I also got to see the famous folks after they powered down whatever mental switch they flipped before facing fandom. Guess what. None of them were jerks. Even the few with reputations for being jerks were just normal folks who were tired. Heck, they were doing a Convention day after having just gotten off Screaming Baby Airlines flight 109 non-stop from the other side of the bloody globe without even time to find a coffee. THEN they’d begin signing a thousand photos and shaking hands with God-knows how many folks.
I just had to stand there and look like an ogre.
I recall one convention, with the a Captain no less. I got him from the local airport (another service my company provided), and took him directly to the hotel hosting the Con. On the drive, he told me he hadn’t slept in over a day because he’d been dreading the flight, but now it was over and he could relax. He rolled his eyes as he said it.
What I remember most about that day, as he climbed form the car, he let the biggest rumble bomb I’ve ever heard. A loud thing that began with a shrill little squeak that descended into a ripping, tearing sound that echoed in the concrete loading dock we’d pulled up to like a string of firecrackers on the 4th of July.
He glanced over to me and said, I kid you not, “Set phasers to burrito-fart, Mr. James.”
I got him to the greenroom, got him a damn coffee, and then began the gauntlet. The signings, the meetings, the speakings, pretending you didn’t just tell all these same stories last weekend at another convention, the shakings of hands, the occasional surreptitious wiping off of hands if somebody’s palm was a tad moist…
Four hours later, I was about to take him to his room for a blessed nap, when we got cut off backstage by a fan in a wheelchair.
I went into glower mode, but Captain Burrito-Fart stepped around me and knelt down to look her in the eye. They talked for a good twenty minutes, and she told him through tears how much his character on the show inspired her. Then he took her hand, and thanked her. He told her how the fans were the fuel that kept him going and that he would remember her and her story for a long time to come.
They parted and I took my Captain to the elevator. On the way up, I broke the major rule and asked him how much of that was real.
“Every word, Mr. James. Every word. I’ve met dozens of people like that young lady, and I remember every single one of them. They are the fuel that keeps me going. Because through them, I can do some good in this broken foul world. And if we can’t spread a bit of happiness, then I ask you what even is the damn point?”
Millions of people think this famous actor is their hero because of the character he played. But Captain Burrito-Fart is my hero because of the man who played him on TV.
News:
Wow! That was a bit longer than I intended. Thankfully, the news is short this week. Flame & Claw book 3 is still at the editor’s as I write this. I love Charlie. They’re the definition of ‘good people’.
Anyway, everything is on track still, January, maybe February, all three book will release at once.
Ok, if you’re not following me on Bluesky then your missing out on the goodies I’ve been posting over there. Like the cover reveal for book 1: Peacebreaker.
In The Library:
Been enjoying the heck out of “Brigands & Breadknives” the third cozy fantasy book from Travis Baldree. I recommend the audiobook to your attention, as I do his first two works in the series.
It once again raises a question I thought I’d put to bed, but it won’t stay asleep. Should I do audio versions of Flame & Claw? I’d love to, but right now I can’t afford to pay someone to read them. I’d do it myself, but folks have compared the sound of my voice to John Goodman, hardly appropriate for a twenty-something lady.
Then again, Mr. Baldree doesn’t sound like a female orc ex-merc, but his voice totally works for his own material. Conundrums…
The Good
We tend to conflate heroic characters with those who created them. It’s human nature, I suppose to see our mythical heroes in the people closest to them. Sometimes, as in Captain Burrito-Fart, it’s all to the good. I suppose that they key is to remember that they’re human, not paragons, not villains, but human beings who are eminently fallible.
And then there are those who are exactly as the appear to be in our hearts. I mentioned Fred Rogers above, I’ve never met anyone who knew him, briefly or in a couple cases otherwise, who thought he was anything but the pure, decent champion of children and goodness he seemed on TV. I’m sure there were times he lost his temper, times he used bad language, or gave vent to frustration in a way that wasn’t constructive.
But he also gave the best advice I’ve ever heard when he said to ‘look for the helpers.’ Because people who help others, even for selfish reasons, are growing the world we all want to inhabit. One where our differences aren’t a source of pain, but of strength.
The Bad
Of course, there are times when the person behind our favorite stories is actually a horrible human being. Take the case of the lady who wrote about a boy wizard with a scar on his forehead. I won’t say her name because as with her fictional big bad, it summons things.
Her blind hatred of folks who were different from her, who meant her no harm, and were no threat to her precious little bubble of life has cost her so much public regard it still staggers me.
The Fugly
Of all the self-inserts in her big multi-volume story, I never expected her Mary Sue to be named Petunia…
That’s all for now folks! See you soon with some hopeful NEWS!
-Dev