Botcon or not, here I come

Last year I was watching Reading Rainbow on the couch with my son, who was only around 2 months old and really didn't give a crap. Regardless, I decided that much like his baby vaccinations where they inject small amounts of antibody generating molecules into his baby body, LeVar Burton should also be administered to my son at an early age. It is my hope that little doses of Reading Rainbow early on will generate a love of reading at some point, like a vaccination against being stupid. Of course it may all backfire and he'll end up building an immunity to LeVar Burton. This may prove useful in the future if ever he comes under fire from terrorists with guns that shoot LeVar Burton.

This information may be a little out of date

LeVar was talking about the migration patterns of monarch butterflies in that episode of Reading Rainbow. Monarchs from the Rocky Mountains fly thousands of miles south to Mexico for the winter but their lives are so short that the ones starting the trip aren't the ones that finish it. Scientists don't understand the mysterious mechanisms whereby the monarchs complete the journey over several generations. Also unknowable to conventional science is the incomprehensible instinct that initiates my journey to Botcon. What is the robomantric force compelling thousands to attend the annual gathering of roboplastical historians? Future studiers of the migration patterns of toy robots fans will be baffled by the seemingly random locations that get traveled to with needlenose precision in the name of plastic robot doll collecting. What primal urge inspires tens of hundreds of toy robots fans to travel hundreds of miles for non-mating purposes? It is what I have deemed the Botcon-stinct (not to be confused with Botcon-stink, which is equally powerful but more well understood).

I don't always go to Botcon but the feelings of depression, anxiety and craving when I don't are a bitch, proving that ignoring the Botcon-stinct ranks just slightly below meth withdrawal. I'm really just a casual fan of this stuff-a normal guy. I have noticed that I keep attending every other year though. Why? Beats me I don't know. It's probably some chemical imbalance in my brain. More likely it's a flaw in my DNA triggered by hidden codes that only I can see on the packages of toy robots I buy from Japan. Maybe the alien implant is malfunctioning and that's why I go to Botcon on even years. I have learned not to question Botcon-stinct.

This year Botcon's in Cincinnati and since I'm no longer a member of the toy robots intelligentsia club, I'd have to pay a minimum of $170 if I want to be allowed into all the events and panels and secret behind-the-scenes robot masturbation contests being held in the closets. Or I could just not register, go as a walk-in and pay $10 each day. Unfortunately walk-ins do not get to masturbate in the secret closets with the other Transfan illuminati. There is a third option whereby I exploit a loophole in the registration process and claim to be a family member of an already registered attendee so I can get all-areas access. However this would require that I'd have to lie at the registration desk and claim I am somebody's stepbrother from a wild fling his dad had in Mexico or something.

Not having the tiny details like how I'm getting in all worked out isn't a big deal. I have Botcon-proofed this vacation by engineering it so that I can have a good time even if I get kicked out of the robots show for impersonating Michael Bay or when whatever other scheme I invent to get in fails. I've figured out so far that I'll be staying at Wright-Patterson AFB, hopefully near to (if not inside) the legendary Hangar 18. Sometimes the lodging on base fills up and when you're not actually in Air Force they put you low on the waiting list so you have to be creative. I tell you, when you're active duty the Air Force treats you like royalty but as soon as you become a civilian dependent, it's sleeping with the aliens for you.

I should be there for a week, which gives me time to accomplish the real mission-VINTAGE SPACE TOAST TOUR CINCINNATI! If all goes well, every morning I'll be climbing out from under the pile of alien bodies that keep me warm to hit up the Cincinnati main library and spend countless hours in front of their nausea inducing microfilm machines. So instead of planning a vacation around Botcon, I am in essence making Botcon fit in with my Space Toast Tour '08 vacation. This then is not me surrendering mindlessly like a robot zombie to the Botcon-stinct, it is my triumphant mastery of it. I am the monarch butterfly who goes to Mexico not because it will be warm, but because I'm the friggin' monarch butterfly Indiana Jones and I'm going to fly all up in those Mayan temples looking for dead aliens and 20 year old robot newspaper ads.