COLUMN: Fighting for truth, justice and running from the law
I hope that for the next couple of days geeks and non-geeks alike will be able to share more than our unhealthy attraction for Natalie Portman.
We can share stories from our Spring Break. It’ll be like just like camp, only this time hopefully none of you will lock me in the latrine.
Once again Spring Break has come and gone with its usual shirking of responsibility and general hitting of the open road in the face. It’s a magical time when the lack of evil meddling from professors allows the non-geeks to seek out wild and exotic places and the geeks to finally organize their comic book collections.
It is also a time for change. For example, when I started on my massive Spring Break trip to the Geeky Land, I was just an average college student. But by the end of the first day I was a suspected drug-runner with ties to the Taliban.
Perhaps I’d better explain.
I decided that this Spring Break I was going to do something more than just sit around playing video games and creating life-like sketches of what I’d look like if I were a Jedi.
I’ve always been fascinated by concept of the great American road trip: traveling on the old state routes, seeing small-town America up close and being able to do stuff where no one knows who you are or where to find you later.
Seeking for the true Spring Break to remember, I loaded up my car and my roommate and I set off for the mostly happening Spring Break destination ever: Metropolis, Ill.
For those of you who think Wesley Crusher is a pro-wrestler, Metropolis is the name of the city where Superman was so super. Somehow a small town in Illinois had the same name so they decided to construct a giant statue of the Man of Steel.
Seeing no alternative, I had to drive more than 1,500 miles to see it. I like to think of it like the geek’s pilgrimage.
I did this because for me, like many of you, Superman is the true superhero. He was the first one I ever knew or cared about. He taught me that someone needs to stand up for truth and justice, that bad guys are stupid and that underwear, whether inside or out, is an important part of any fashion ensemble.
How could I not go to the statue?
Everything was going great until we got to Kansas. We weren’t in the state for more than 20 minutes when the red and blue lights that’ll but a pit in your stomach faster than too much green chili sauce filled the rear view mirror.
The officer took my roommate back to his car and proceeded to question us separately. This is when I learned that you should always tell an officer of the peace the complete truth, even if it makes you look like a total wonk.
Rather than just coming out at saying that I was driving half way across the country to see a concrete statue of childhood cartoon character, I told him we were just driving around to see what there was. He, naturally, assumed I was selling narcotics.
He then searched my car using the age-old police technique of shuffling stuff around in the trunk looking for any containers marked “drugs.”
Finding nothing he let us of with a warning but explained that he couldn’t be too careful. Apparently there’s been an influx of people from Utah selling drugs in Metropolis for the Taliban. Those were basically his exact words.
Anyways we finally made it to Metropolis and it was pretty super. They had a museum set up by some guy who has dedicated his life to the collection of Superman memorabilia. I’m grateful for the man, he reminded me of my childhood hero and has become one for my adulthood.
Because he knows how to geek on.
Steve Shinney is a junior majoring in computer science and is currently now wanted in seven states. Comments can be sent to
steveshinney@cc.usu.edu.