Apr 262011
 

Comicpalooza, the annual comic… uh… palooza, takes place in Houston, TX this year from May 27-29 (Fri-Sun). Three sets of exhibition bouts will take place on Sunday (5/30) following Saturday night’s sanctioned bout between the Houston Knockouts and Harrisburg, PA Rollergirls.  If you’ve been waiting all your life, as I have, to skate as your favorite comic figure, register for one (or more) of three exhibition bouts, or email Grrrl Friday at inkslingertl@gmail.com. Registration closes 4/29! Refs are welcome, too. Further details at bottom of article.

When trAC/DC told me I could go to Houston for a comic convention AND skate there as a superhero AND see Houston take on Harrisburg, I nearly crapped my spandex.

See, I’ve had a long and confusing love affair with Captain America since the 7th grade, one that my family finds “interesting” and worthy of exploration. So let’s explore it together. Maybe you and I will look back at our superhero-laden childhoods and find that those old capes and masks laid an early, welcoming foundation for derby. Because, you know, everything has to do with derby.

Ahem.

It was a typically disgusting day in Kenner, LA, and I was what’s typically a disgusting age: 13. I sat in my elementary school’s humid cafeteria sweating through my see-through white polyester uniform shirt, looking out at the bayou’s concrete levee walls and the stupid heat-waving blacktop that anyone but a kid would pass out on. As flocks of the fattest seagulls you ever saw positioned themselves above our recess area for shit-on-kids time, I realized I’d had enough of this damn place as I stood in it. I’d been quiet for something like ten years, and though I excelled athletically and got good grades, no kids gave a shit about me. I was too grown up and introspective for my friends. I was always sweaty and only spoke up to stick up for Josh (he had elf ears). They knew me for being… tall.

I stared at my Cheez-It like it was a home video of a windblown grocery bag.

“Hey,” I said, looking up.

I slammed my fist on the cheap linoleum table.

“Hey!”

The Clique looked up from their peas.

I had their attention. What was I going to say?

“I’m Captain America!”

There was a long pause.

They looked at me with a singular question in their eyes, one that I, too, was now wondering. What the hell did I just say?

I thought quick: “Callie, catch this Cheez-It in your mouth and you can be my sidekick.”

I threw it at her. She caught it.

“Julianna, what’s the capital of Mississippi?”

“I don’t know.”

“Good. Me neither. You’re in.”

And so it went. I had no idea what I was doing. I had no control. It was like years of pent up hysteria were pouring out of me, and as long as The Clique thought it was good fun, I was gonna sit back and watch me unfurl.

I commanded that damn lunch and recess. By the end of it, I had five of the cliquiest bitches following me around, waiting for orders, laughing hysterically with me and my alter ego. I was brand new, funny.

“Where did you come from?” Kelli asked me by the end of the hour-long break. “We had no idea you were funny.”

I was smug as all hell.

“You know, my mom’s vagina.” Man, I was on a roll.

But I had no idea where it had all come from. I didn’t even know Captain America was a superhero. I’d seen a patriotic car round town with the words sealed on its rear window, and they had stuck in my brain. My sidekicks got names, too. Derby names sorta. Like Sergeant Stripes, Mr. Flag, and Uncle Sam. I assigned them. We wore secret patches on our gym shorts beneath our plaid skirts. There was a handbook and a handshake. I was dope. I was Captain America!

Now, as a weird, grownass bitch, I salute you, Captain America, for coming out of my open mouth that day, for transforming my peer relations, and scaring my mother. I salute you, today, by vowing to wrap your name and colors around my derby-loving bod at Comicpalooza, even if your blue tights make me look like a sausage.

Thank you, thank goodness(!) I didn’t wait a day longer to get weird. Thank you, Comicpalooza, for letting me honor the kid, the superhero within who propels me forth.

 

REGISTRATION CLOSES 4/29

*$10 registration fee per half-hour scrimmage includes team shirt with name and number!

What: Comicpalooza Derby Exhibition

Where:

George R. Brown Convention Center
3rd Floor
1001 Avenida de las Americas
Houston, TX 77010

When:

Sunday, May 30: 1 pm, 2 pm, 3pm

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  2 Responses to “Comicpalooza: Be your own hero!”

  1. Awesome!!!

  2. I FREAKIN’ LOVE YOU. Where the hell WERE you when I was 13?!?! I would have loved to have been your Captain Underpants and followed you around like a drooling toddler.

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