A question you’re pretty much forced to ask yourself at an event like a World Science Fiction Convention is:

Just how much of a geek am I?

Not “am I a geek?” because if you’re at a science fiction convention, if you’ve actually paid for a membership, if you’re staying at a hotel in a city you don’t live in because you’re attending a science fiction convention, you ARE a geek, even if you’re a professional.

I’m not saying that’s a bad thing.  I readily admit that I am a geek.  I have a classic Star Trek poster in my office, for crying out loud.

But… just how much of a geek am I?

Because, you see, there are different stratums of geekdom.

There are people who, let’s face it, kind of look like geeks.  Blasphemy!  But it’s true.

For instance, one day at the World Science Fiction Convention I walked into a panel moderated by someone who, on the surface at least, seemed pretty geeky.  There was clearly a different standard at play in terms of physical appearance.  I’m not looking down my nose at the guy; heck,  his credentials beat mine all to hell.  But on the appearance front I would humbly suggest that this gentleman was a hair geekier than me.

I could be completely deluded.  It’s entirely possible that I look geekish.  Certainly when I was in high school I looked like a geek, which is to say bad haircut, so skinny I had to run around in the shower to get wet, terrible glasses and a wisp of a moustache.  I like to think that I have learned how to look after myself since then, or at least, have allowed the women in my life to correct at least the most obvious of my fashion deficiencies.

So anyway, that’s two levels of geekdom right there: geeks who don’t give a whit about their physical appearance (Corey Doctorow calls them the “Underwear on the Head” types) and those who are more “stealth” geeks, at least in terms of physical appearance.

Who cares if someone looks geeky, you say?  Good point.  It’s really how you feel about yourself that matters, not the opinions of others, right?   (As long as you’re not running around hurting others with your over-inflated self-esteem).   However, it’s probably undeniable that the appearance of some science fiction enthusiasts contributes to the image problem of science fiction itself.  I’m just sayin’.

So anyway, you go to one of these cons and there are a fair amount of these underwear on the head types, and right away you find yourself asking yourself, my God, do I belong here?  Am I one of these people?

I was walking to my hotel one night with a bunch of other con-goers (some in costume, Klingon and whatnot) and a car-full of young male Montrealers hooted and jeered at us.  And right away I thought, my God, do I belong here, being mocked with these… these geeks?

The answer was a resounding YES, of course.  I may have been cleaned up a bit by various pitying womenfolk in my life, the moustache is gone, the hair cut more or less properly, the glasses replaced with contacts, the jeans fit a hair better…

…but the underwear on the head is still there, I’m afraid.  You just have to look a bit harder (I think…)