Just as the serene and darkly beautiful drizzle and glow of autumn convince me Halloween is my fave holiday - ranking after my bday, of course - December sprinkles its silvery-whte skies with a magical mélange of cinnamon, fairy dust and smiles, convincing me that, now, Christmas is my fave holiday. Okie dokie, December! You win! No more Pumpkin Spice lattes; 'tis now time for Egg Nog lattes! ~Homer Simpson-style drool~ What could be more glorious than the Holidays? If you know Moi, only one answer reigns: Holidays at Disneyland Resort! At Christmastime, Disneyland Resort is vibrantly festooned with fresh designs, décor and delight ... including our famous, rollerskating snowflakes! Whether you prefer California Adventure, Disneyland Park or simply a leisurely date at Downtown Disney, Disneyland Resort in Anaheim proffers whatever you need to get your holiday cheer rolling. 

Entering California Adventure Park, you'll step into 1920s California on Buena Vista Street, with its classic, festive, Christmas overlay. Seasonal entertainment inside CA runs a wide, winter, multicultural spectrum: from the Disney Festival of Holidays to Disney ¡Viva Navidad!; from Mater's Jingle Jamboree hoedown and Luigi's Joy to the Whirl roadsters, in Cars Land to Santa's Holiday Visit at Redwood Creek, at Grizzly Peak.

Across the path, at the original Disneyland Park, you'll swoon with the truest, childhood glee, taking in all the Disney traditions of Holiday Time. A Christmas Fantasy Parade and It's A Small World Holiday will set your young heart aflutter. The bedazzling lights of Sleeping Beauty's Castle, Main Street and New Orleans Square will set your soul to sing. Thrilling those of us whom love Halloween as much as we love Christmas, Haunted Mansion Holiday delivers the perfect winter chill up your spine, with a charmingly sinister The Nightmare Before Christmas overlay. Making Christmas! Making Christmas! Snakes and mice get wrapped up so nice!

Both Parks, of course, will thrill you to your jingled toes with bright-lights spectacle: Believe ... in Holiday Magic fireworks at Disneyland, and World of Color - Season of Light fountain and laser show at California Adventure. Holiday décor, seasonal yummies and acres of magical merriment and finery wait eagerly to cloak you in good cheer and sheer joy, all across Disneyland Resort.

Do yourself a huge favour, by the way. Get at least one day of holiday shopping in with Mickey and Walt. If you're not close to any Disney Parks, or, maybe you are close, but don't want to pay $150+ addendum to your holiday shopping, or commit to an annual passport, no worries, kittens! For those near a Park, Downtown Disney shopping and dining districts, in both the Golden and Sunshine States, will feed your Disney holiday needs, sans the hefty admission fees. Fortunate enough to reside in fab metropoli of Europe or Asia? Lucky you! Tokyo, Hong Kong, Shanghai and Paris all have Parks for holiday indulgence. If all else fails, dear reader, a visit to your local mall's Disney Store can provide a travel-size portion of IRL Mickey cheer. Not even near a mall, you say? Hmm. Wow. Well, lemme a minute. Ah! ShopDisney.com whilst binging on Disney+ should get the job done nicely.

Remember, holiday shopping is not just about the buying; it's about the feel-good festivity of the day. The browsing, the strolling, the atmos and the hot cocoa, spiced cider and egg nog lattes can make even going home with one, twee gift feel like you've conquered Chrstmas, or one day of Hanukkah. (IMHO, going into New Year's debt over presents is unsavvy. Savvy? It really is the thought that counts. True, Disney may not be the least expensive brand; but there are plenty of goodies throughout the Resort under $25 with a beautifully unique and personal factor, especially for those fellow Disney-geeks on your lists. Enjoy the season for yourself, as well as those you love so dearly ... and, save some Earth monies to buy an Annual Passport for the New Year!) 

Whether it's precious alone-time - do not underestimate the joy of Disney meandering by oneself - or a special day with a good pal, whether it's a Disney jaunt with a lovey-dovey or a tiny loved one, Disneyland Resort provides everything your modern senses require for the perfect holiday season. Disneyland is for fun, friends and family. Who knows what next year may bring? You owe it to yourself. Be happy! Be merry! Be kind! Go to Disneyland!

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When is $750K a pittance? When it's Hollywood-oriented and gets you a feature-length film, shot over sixty-days and employs no less than the formidable and jauntily avuncular Elliott Gould (M*A*S*H, Ocean's Eleven, Friends). When do you say Mazel Tov? When that film blasts out of the holiday film gate like Seabiscuit on fire and ignites a dynamite line straight to Hanukkah and Christmas movie mainstays.

Switchmas (2012, Von Piglet Productions) is so ding-dang cheerful, so sweet, so good-natured, so family-friendly, so inclusive, so sprightly, so hopeful that one just might puke from its syrupy tinge, if it was not such a fun film. Switchmas is Disney-quality, without the Disney-dollars. Should you find your list of holiday flicks in need of an update, would it kill you to add Switchmas? It slots in beautifully with the other tent poles holding firm in the genre: Elf, A Christmas Story, A Charlie Brown Christmas, Christmas Vacation et al.

Mr. Gould, known lovingly to so many of us as Jack Geller, Ross & Monica's dad, isn't the only point-of-light in the Little Film That Could. David Deluise (Wizards of Waverly Place, Stargate-SG1) portrays Max Finkelstein, an optimistic auteur on the fringes of Hollywood and president of Finkelstein Films: "Making the World You Want To See". Max believes he has everything but "a name" to catapult him to Woody Allenesque fame and respect. (If The Reindeer From Planet 9 can't get him an Oscar, what can?) As Max tells a potential client (art imitates life here), "Believe me! You don't need big money to make a movie with big heart!" When "a name" drops in his lap, Max gets the filmic opportunity of a lifetime. The name appears in the form of has-been, aging, bubble-gum starlet Jennifer Cameo, best-known for her role as Desperate Jane (played by Julianne Christie). I am Desperate Jane! I have fans and a blog and I am in control!, Cameo rants desperately to anyone left in her fan-base. To optimize Ms. Cameo's last gasp for stardom, Max must personally rip out and eat his own son's heart ... metaphorically-speaking, of course.

"Its' the Finkelstein Christmas tree!"

"Finkelsteins do not have Christmas trees."

"Why not?"

"You know why! We're Jewish!"

"Well do we have to be?"

"Ira!"

"I mean at Christmas?"

"You know what? Heritage, tradition, culture. Who needs it?"

Resistance is futile. Therein lies the rub. Little Ira J. Finkelstein wants nothing more than to celebrate Christmas. "He's obsessed with The Christmas!" To assuage this desire, Max and Mama Rosie agree to take him to Aspen for Christmas, land of twinkle lights, snowy windowsills, hot cocoa and Louis Vuitton luggage. Then, Miss Cameo is attached to The Reindeer From Planet 9 and Aspen go bye-bye. "If this goes good, we can go to Aspen every year". Instead, even after a heart-melting plea from Ira about promises and mishpucha, Mom and Dad ship him off, to where else? "Florida, for The Christmas". Now, a holiday with the Flah-ri-dah grandparents includes a dream grampy: supportive, doting and effervescent Sam Finkelstein, played to freylech perfection by Elliott Gould.

In classic, Shakespearean-style though, during Ira's layover at the airport, on his way to "stupid Florida", he meets fellow holiday misanthrope Mikey Amato: a poor, Christian boy of newly-divorced parents who -wait for it- wants nothing more than to spend Christmas on a warm beach with some rich grandparents. Poor little shnook, he's on his way to "stupid Christmastown" for a week of gift-giving, parade-going, snowman-building and cocoa-drinking with his gentle, gentile, WASPy cousins, who, fortunately, haven't seen him in quite a while. Boom! A quick switch of some nerd glasses, an old parka, bangs brushed down and the convenient exposure that even Ira's own grandparents haven't seen him in quite a while either, and voilà! You've got The Switchmas. "That's no Finkelstein! It's a different kid! What, is he blind?!"

There's even a pup. Any good holiday film has a dog. This little guy is Killer, a.k.a. Mistletoe: a big-headed, sweet-eyed pit bull who brings to mind The Little Rascals' Petey.

To boot, if you happen to have a grandparent-Jonesing, Switchmas can assuage that, too. Mikey's all too-foreign poolside, beachfront, grandparent-sojourn in The Sunshine State is a non-stop party of chocolate geld, fruity drinks, positive affirmations and socks-and-sandals. (To this girl, it sounds equally perfect to my own Christmastown luxuries.)

(Can we talk?) Raised in a beautifully festive Christmas household, as in Mom could teach Martha Stewart a thing or two, I was annually blessed with a pile of presents that would make Santa blush and enough hugs and kisses for a Strawberry Shortcake episode; it was a veritable embarrassment of riches that happily continues to this day. What did I lack, however? Grandparents. Always feeling I missed out on something grand in this respect, characters like Sam and Ruth Finkelstein bring a broad smile to my gentile pearlies. Moreover, my paternal great-grandparents and grandparents were Jewish, hailing from Vienna, Austria and, eventually, New York City (The Bronx and Long Island): Jakob & Irma Gerstl, and Rudi & Rosalyn Gerstle, respectively. Because I never got to know them, my noodle has compensated over the years with a special love for vintage handbags, antique jewelry, The Golden Girls, Agatha Christie novels and Queen Elizabeth II. (What is in Her Majesty's purse, BTW? Did you notice she even has it next to her on the floor in the 4G Royal Portrait? Dying to know. I bet Werther's Originals, a Waterman pen and a surplus of Irish-linen hankies.) As Angela philosophizes on The Office, "Some of us don't have grandmothers. Some of us have to be our own grandmothers."

(Back to the film ... ) Best of all, for those of us endlessly searching Netflix' "Recently Added" queue for the unequaled, quintessentially '90s TV-series Northern Exposure, the fair Cynthia Geary plays Libby Wilson, the beautifully-blonde auntie with the rosy, mountain-air glow who awaits her, fortunately, long-unseen nephew in Christmastown, WA. True, she is meant to look haggard and toiled, the overworked mom of three and neglected wife to an alcoholic, unemployed schmegegy of a dad; but the MUA failed here, folks. Despite the tousled locks and the persistent frown, Geary (Northern Exposure, Smoke Signals) looks as fresh-scrubbed and nature-girl beautiful as she did twenty-plus years ago as Shelly Tambo-Vincour in the wilds of Cicely, AK. (Apropos, Northern Exposure was shot on location in Roslyn, WA; Switchmas was shot in Leavenworth, WA and Seattle.)

As with any good film serving as part-morality play, there are a few direct lessons involved. Unaware of the notable, Jewish contributions to Christmas song and film? Pay close attention to Christmastown's Santa Claus, Murray Lefkowitz. (This means you, Garrison Keillor.)

"A Jewish Santa?"

"Who else would work on Christmas?"

Fretting about the melding of Hanukkah and Christmas on the proverbial celluloid? Meh. Christmas is a mélange, a spiritual and pagan amalgam of millennia stewed in winter celebration, thanksgiving, festivity and bringing a little light to the shortest, darkest days of the year. The Christmas we know today was not celebrated until 4thC C.E., when Emperor Constantine defected from his pagan beliefs and essentially founded Christianity. He declared the 25th as the certifiable day of joy to coincide with the same time during which the ancient Babylonians, Romans, Celts and Norsemen had already been celebrating for eons, knowing full well he would not be able to stop them from said-jubilation and Bacchanalian endeavours.

In the end, I am a wordsmith; words mean something to me and are not to be tossed about hither and thither. Therefore, I refrain from the ignominy of such phrases as "government aid", "literally starving" and, worst of all, "instant classic". However, I am finding it sehr difficult to refrain from the latter. Switchmas might just be that, an instant classic. Only time will tell, and JennyPop's annually-updated, recommended, Christmas and Hanukkah viewing list.

Because this stuff is important, especially if your name is listed:

Directed by

Sue Corcoran

Written by

Douglas Horn

Angie Louise

Sue Corcoran

Cast

David Deluise as Max Finkelstein

Elijah Nelson as Ira J. Finkelstein

Elliott Gould as Sam Finkelstein

Angela DiMarco as Rosie Finkelstein

Justin Howell as Mikey Amato

Cynthia Geary as Libby Wilson

Follow @JennyPopCom #Christmasfilms #Switchmas

Just four days to check-in at the Omni Los Angeles, kittens! Dr. Lucy and Yours Truly are headed north and changing hotels for the weekend so we can cover all the geeky, gooey goodness of WonderCon 2016 (March 25 - 27, L.A. ConvCtr) just for you, fair reader! Playing under the bright lights of Hollywood (well, H-town adjacent), especially after the Con doors close, brings a splash of glamour to this year's WC that, as much as we love The O.C. (Psst, don't call it that.), Anaheim just cannot provide.

Like Waldo, something was missing, or at least hiding adeptly, this year at WonderCon Anaheim (WCA, Anaheim Convention Center April 3-5, 2015). Maybe something was amiss on the con floor: no behemoth media structures; no celeb sightings; no multi-screen overload; no roaming camera crews from the big-news outlets. Maybe something was amiss outside: no hordes of the gawking, general public, curious shutterbugs or looky-loos. Then again, maybe nothing was amiss and I misread the whole situation. Whatever occurred, as satisfying as WCA2K15 eventually turned out to be, something intangible was mislaid; and its absence left an energy-void, and not just for Yours Truly.

Mr. Snowman has been patient, all the autumn through.

Now he’s ready to vogue and pose and preen,

To oversee your snow angels, powder fights and frolics.

Pine boughs and incense, cinnamon and peppermint.

Sugar cookies and gingerbread, snickerdoodles and milk.

Pfeffernüsse and Gewurztraminer, spice cookies and mulled wine,

Of all the holiday making, the baking and cooking call us home best.

Fairy lights glitter and dance in the fireplace glow,

As they hug the tree and adulate the dearest décor,

That box of precious, priceless family adornments,

Waiting patiently through the year, much as Mr. Snowman.

Presents tied with velvet bows and wreaths wrapped with grapevines,

Garden gnomes with Santa hats and carriage lights ringed with pine,

Welcome all whom enter, those we hold dear and those we wish to know.

‘Tis Christmastime and no season’s more special with cheer,

Than that which brings us all home at once,

Than that which brings us all love at home.

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Me: What? You're nuts! Everyone knows about Disneyland at Halloween!

My Viking: No, they don't. Not everybody goes to Disneyland once a week.

Me: Okay, still. Everybody knows about The Haunted Mansion at Halloween!

My Viking: No, they don't. Hey, maybe that should be your next blog post.

A recent discourse of somewhat heated debate, the suggestion indeed made sense. I've been on a perpetual Disney mission since I could talk, so why not entreat anyone I can to experience the magnificent transformation of The Happiest Place on Earth into The Spookiest Place on Earth: Disneyland's Halloween Time?!

I write specifically of the Disneyland Resort in Anaheim, California. The entire park gets a bedeviling, magical, spooky, pumpkin-bedecked makeover. Nyquil trip-worthy, giant Mickey, Minnie, Donald and Goofy Jack O'Lanterns greet you at the main gate and welcome you into a fall fantasy. 'Tis best to go at night. It is still a tad warm here in sunny California to achieve a true autumnal glow, not counting that glow which comes from insisting on wearing a newsboy cap, silk breeches and woolen stripey stockings to the Park. October 1st temp this year? 100 degrees in Anaheim! Of course, maybe that's why we SoCal Disney dorks love Halloween Time so much. Disney is fantasy, after all. Weather fantasy is a beautiful thing. You know my thoughts on too much summer!

From Main Street's straw-adorned gas lampposts to Space Mountain's surprisingly heart-stopping Ghost Galaxy (I screamed with such true terror, without the ability to ever catch my breath in between banshee calls, I exited with a monster headache and a shredded, sore throat. Gnarly, awesome fun!), everything is infused with an orange-and-gold, haystacks-and-scarecrows, SpiderCider n' pumpkin muffin kind of elan. Even the popcorn boxes are anew with Gothic imagery. You'll find ghostly and spooky, seasonal offerings from Jack O'Lantern lollipop cakes at the Jolly Holiday Bakery Café on Main Street, to Jack Skellington hoodies and studded belts throughout New Orleans Square.

The Haunted Mansion, above all, receives a dressing up one simply must see in person. Whilst divine and inspiring on its most average day, the manse brings new awe to the darkly-humoured and sartorially gothic flutterbys whom tend to use the manor less as an amusement park ride and more as an interior design sketchbook. September through January, the Mansion looks like the aftermath of a Tim Burton Army's coup d'etat. Using "The Nightmare Before Christmas" as its seasonal overlay, the neoclassical Victorian estate recounts the tale of pauvre Jack Skellington and his empirical quest to understand himself and his raison d'etre. 'Tis a Samhain switch that would make even Kafka proud: creepy crawlies, existential confusion, brooding philosophes and all. The chateau has been overtaken and rechristened Haunted Mansion Holiday here in Anna's House (Anaheim) and Haunted Mansion Holiday Nightmare at Tokyo Disneyland for my Japanese pals, Yoshiko, Akiko and Aii. Konnichiwa, guys!

Jack and Sally, Zero, the mayor of Hallowe'en Town and his loyal citizens, evil Oogie Boogie and his miniature minions Lock, Shock and Barrel and, of course, Sandy Claws have made the palace their own. Doom Buggies carry Nightmare devotees whom will not only spy favourite replications and vignettes from the holiday mainstay film, but whom will search over and over, enduring sadistically long and serpentine lines to get inside, for details and surprises hidden nicely in plain sight for the more obsessive fans. (Moi? I found a creepy Christmas cadeau laid out and tagged For: Jennifer!) Haven't had a chance to get inside, yet? No worries. Allow Moi to offer a wee Holiday Haunted Mansion slideshow!

Apropos to those devilish lines, there are plenty of visual stimuli outside the Neoclassical Italianate dwelling to keep one's creative centers electrified as you shuffle forward at an imperceptible speed: impaled Jack O'Lanterns on an ivy-laden hillside, scores of flickering candles, skull-festooned, black-ribboned Christmas wreaths and a plethora of tombstones, cemetery statuary and goofy epitaph puns. (Crave an archivist's details about the original architectural impetus for the manse: the 1803 Shipley-Lydecker House in Baltimore? Voila ... Disneyland Nomenclature.)

Should you be fortunate enough to live near Disneyland and even more fortunate to be an annual passholder, get thee to The Spookiest Place on Earth forthwith. Plan on long lines, especially at Space Mountain's Ghost Galaxy and The Haunted Mansion, buy some popcorn to kill time and take some pictures whilst you wait. I do! Pirates of the Caribbean is usually a pretty mellow wait and though it's not got a Hallowe'en rework, it's still pirates. You have to do pirates for Hallowe'en!

If you're not a passholder, expect a terrifying ticket price into the park. Of course, you can always put that admission toward said-pass and imbue yourself with the heady incense that is Disney all year long. They'll apply the ticket-price to your new pass and for just a minor monthly stipend, Disney will own your ass forev ... I mean, offer you endless entertainment for years to come, plus parking. (Fair warning: If you plan to have a pass for the long term, it is best to renew your pass every year, prior to the expiration date. You can upgrade easily, with a slightly higher, modified, monthly fee; but there are often renewal discounts. Also, you maintain your monthly debits, keeping cost management of the pass pretty regular, minus upgrade costs. If it expires, even by a day, you will be required to buy anew; that means a one-day ticket price/down payment of about $80.00.)

If you do have a pass, besides the useful 10% to 20% dining and merchandise discounts you'll receive, depending on the pass, you'll get $18.00 off most nights to Mickey's Halloween Party, excepting Oct. 30th & 31st. What? You don't know of Mickey's Halloween Party?! It's a special, ticketed event ($54.00-$69.00) throughout the month of October. The park closes early to make way for a fab, private-ish party! You may dress up if you like (within guidelines) and experience a whole new Hallowe'en overlay throughout the place: a spooky, blue, ghostly Mark Twain and Pirate Ship Columbia drift atop the fog-laden Rivers of America; costumed Disney characters pose for pictures; safe and healthy trick-or-treating stations await your little ones; and Halloween Screams Fireworks explode over a multi-hued Sleeping Beauty's Castle! Dates are plentiful, but tickets sell out fast! Learn more here: Mickey's Halloween Party!

Fun fact? Did you know The Haunted Mansion opened on my birthday when I was just a wee, wailing babe? That might explain an existential thing or two!

Hurry back and don't forget to bring your, death certificate. There's always room for one more.

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All slideshow Disneyland photos courtesy of fellow Disney dork, Loren Javier

Some are born Geek, some achieve Geekness and others have Geekness thrust upon them. For those of us whom are verily Geek-at-Heart, we shall not be shedding the title as quickly as a West Hollywood hipster sheds his iPad the moment Apple bids him so. Whilst many will claim the title of Geek, as to be Nerd/Dork/Geek/Wonk is très chic, it is a dangerous, double-edged lightsaber ... wait, they're columnar in shape. Anyhoo, we may live blissfully in our own, little biospheres; yet we are easy targets, like a wounded dolphin, or the only kid dressed up like a pilgrim the Wednesday before school lets out for Thanksgiving Weekend.

From sea to nerdy Cameron-submersible sea, forest to dorky Bigfoot forest, Skywalker Ranch and beyond the solar flares, this proudly pale populace has some serious ideas about what is fun and what is not. Summer is here and it can be a tough time for us, what with the sun, the outdoors and the prospect of a proper, dress-up holiday still months away. Never mind all that; we know what makes for real summer fun and with all due respect to the rest of you, to quote The Big Bang Theory's Dr. Sheldon Cooper, "You're having fun wrong."

Summer can be a bit of a free-radical situation for us: left to fend for ourselves amidst the plains and savannas of a deconstructed season, fighting against the harsh summer sun and the expected, traditional, normal outdoor activities of the average, summer reveler. In adult-life, as in school, just because it's summer, doesn't mean the wedgies cease. In such situations, it is only natural to seek the like-minded. When the broad landscape is dotted with the frequently unavoidable herds of roaming, aggressive, beefy, sunny, beachy, geek-squashers it is often necessary for the more fragile, the proverbial 98-pound weaklings, to gather and move in clusters. The sand-kickers can’t get us all if we move as one.

If it is entirely plausible that you could spend a joyful afternoon at Peet's Coffee having a serious debate about whether Han or Greedo shot first, you just might find the following summer alternatives to beach volleyball, backyard BBQs and 5K mud runs great fun indeed. I cannot advise on alternatives in your backyard, but as a Cali Girl, I will gladly walk you through some of my Golden State's finest, oft air-conditioned, cerebral, summer dork attractions.

• San Diego Comic-Con: Certainly a toss-up, as to whether this should take the number one or two spot. In the end, it had to be crowned as supreme. Comic-Con is Mecca for con geeks the world over, even the new breed of geek: the poseur. C-C has become the new Studio 54. Few at the 1970s, iconic, NYC discotheque probably actually loved disco. Today, it's questionable how many Comic-Con attendees even read comic books, let alone have a passion for the medium. Still, decades after Richard Alf et al gifted the Geek World with the original SDCC and after all the poseurs have moved on, when The Big Bang Theory runs its course, the real fans will still faithfully flood the San Diego Convention Center each July, giving the San Diego Fire Marshal four sleepless nights every summer.

• Disneyland: Like Salieri to Mozart or Sean Penn's Emmet Ray to Django Reinhardt, were there no Comic-Con, Disney would clearly reign on this list. If you’re fortunate enough to have an annual passport, chances are good you can’t get enough of Star Tours and its fifty-some possible scenarios, The Haunted Mansion, Indiana Jones, a Johnny Depp-frosted Pirates of the Caribbean and browsing ad nauseam the Capodimonte-laden glass shelves of Main Street's Disneyana. We Disney devotees do enjoy the occasional, audible snort of derision at new attractions and additions and love to regale newbies and family first-timers with behind-the-scenes Park trivia (especially those of us whom worked there). Overall, it is our church of sorts and if you don’t like Goths, stay away mid-September through January, for The Nightmare Before Christmas overlay at The Haunted Mansion is really, honestly, to die for, kids.

• Renaissance Pleasure Faire: This one’s the original, yon friends. It's usually over before summer solstice hits, but you'll find plenty of other faires up and down the state. Yet, prithee, this is the Hamlet of Renaissance festivals. Oft simply called "Southern" or "Ren Faire", it’s been around since what feels like Queen Elizabeth I and Sir Walter Raleigh were playing footsies behind hogsheads and if you’re well-acquainted with Faire, then you know the tacit rules of conduct: no polyester, no real names, no Victorian Gary Oldmans from Dracula, keep your tongue in character and do not ask us if our costumes are hot. It's almost always 100 degrees and with the exception of our cleavages, we're swathed head-to-toe in leather, velvet, suede and fur. What thinkst thou? Faire is no place for steampunk and there’s also an internal, heated and on-going debate about Captain Jack Sparrow, because he’s a "made-up pirate". Of course, most of the pirate guilds are themselves comprised of made-up pirates. I give you geek.

• Conan: Deserving of a Larry King suspenders & glasses/Arnold sausage snap combo-pantomime, this day trip can’t be beat, even by the Masturbating Bear. Whether you're a lucky local of beautiful downtown Burbank or saving up your game tokens for a Golden State sojourn, a Conan taping is probably the second best taping you can attend in The Valley. Tickets are free, but the online lottery is hit 'n miss. Still, if you can nail a date and don't mind being in Burbank on a weekday, you’ll be better than just about everybody back home on the farm.

• Huntington Library and Gardens: Word nerds, book geeks and art history-snarks, this is your perfect afternoon, except Tuesdays and only from 10:30-4:00 in the summer, 12-4 otherwise. Of course, if you want to miss traffic getting out of the Pasadena-area, you’d best try to be out of the parking lot by 2:30, 3:00 tops. Home to a Gutenberg Bible, an Ellesmere manuscript of The Canterbury Tales, scores of early-Shakespearean papers, Audubon folios and a selection of 18thC. French and English decorative arts that would make Sofia Coppola swoon, the quiet and hidden treasure of L.A. museums is clandestinely tucked away in upscale, residential San Marino, an old money suburb of Pasadena. If you’re drawn to English incunabula, powdered wigs, French Lace roses and think Joshua Reynold's Sarah Siddons as Tragic Muse is just downright hot, then you’d better get going. Traffic will be a total nightmare in about forty minutes.

As a bonus, I must toss in The Hotel del Coronado. Though not a geek-oriented destination in and of itself, unless you’re bonkers for Victorian architectural detail, it is home to our favourite geek ghost, Miss Hannah Hart, ghostdame of The Hotel del Coronado. What?! You don’t know Miss Hannah Hart? Zowie!, as she would decry! Best get yourself over to GoodToBeAGeek.com and introduce yourself to this sassy and brassy, 1930s, Old Hollywood dame whom finds your casual wardrobe and slack-jawed vernacular a disgrace. Boyz-o! Does she have some opinions about you!

Clearly, because we are Geek, I rest assured many of you will disagree with my list, if only to dispute its hierarchy. Moreover, I expect others will rant and rail over omissions and inclusions. Please, do share @JennyPopCom or @GoodToBeAGeek. Like learning a Hotel Del ghostie girl is as bonkers for Carl Barks comic books as I am, it's always a thrill to learn where more of my own kind roam at will, without threat or fear of a good swirly.

 

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As of late, the adventure-lit of Edgar Rice Burroughs has captured my interest with a pleasant focus. The travel narratives of 19thC. adventurers have forever suited me well: Mark Twain, Richard Henry Dana, Charles Darwin, Henry James and Thomas Jefferson with his 18thC. accounts of Italian and French sojourns. To that end, contemporary travel essayists fill a healthy portion of our nearly 2,000 volume library: Bill Bryson, Peter Mayle, Hunter S. Thompson. Perhaps these travel writers and novelists have fueled my Wanderlust; perhaps I am drawn to them because of said-lust.

I have certainly been intrigued by adventure-lit since I first flipped through a fave and well-dogeared volume of Mom's 1940s  I Married Adventure by Martin and Osa Johnson. Tales of a 1930s power couple, he a photographer and contemporary of Jack London (another childhood fave of mine), she the devoted and steel-spined wife and protective riflewoman, they travelled South America and Africa well before the likes of Margaret Mead, Diane Fossey and Jane Goodall: all ladies whose works were also regular reading material about the house. (Mom was an anthropology major when I was wee and I suppose the lure of travel, questions of man's origins and the eternal quest for social knowledge set in early. Her degree was largely focused on Southeast Asian Studies; but I always thought it was Southy Station Studies, as in people who rode trains in the South. Silly girl.) Natch, I could go on here ad nauseum about all this twaddle, but I must save zee leetle grey zells' work for my current endeavour ... which brings me to the animal-loving Brit in the loin cloth.

Motivated by this year's themes for San Diego Comic-Con -for which I am anxiously awaiting press passes for the purposes of reporting from the convention floor for GoodtobeaGeek.com, as my alter ego/pseudonym Miss Hannah Hart, ghostdame- I have dipped my feathered quill and now sit pensively, pondering my submission to the official Souvenir Book, my inky nib aloft and hesitating just inches above my parchment. My theme of choice? The 100th anniversary of Edgar Rice Burroughs' Tarzan of the Apes.

I utilize this casual canvas, similar to my previous post wherein I gathered some Savannah of Williamsburg thoughts -how to formulate my fourth book in this series- as a sounding board to crystallize some free-radical ideas in my noodle. It seems to be working; I feel the gears moving, like one of Dr. Lucia Devereaux's steampunk contraptions sputtering to life. (If you read Hannah, you'll know of Dr. Lucy.) Some of you may know I was published in the 2010 Comic-Con Book: lead story even for the 60th Anniversary of Peanuts segment! My task at hand this time is considerable. These Tarzan geeks are tough competition.

Now, being the weird combination of she whom reveres original fairy tales -Grimm (Little Red Riding Hood, Hansel und Gretel), de la Fontaine (The Grasshopper and the Ant, The Tortoise and the Hare), de Ségur (Blondine), etc.- yet also adores the Disney reiterations thereof, my Viking and I ventured to Disneyland to get my noggin revving and skittered amidst the branches of Tarzan's Treehouse in Adventureland. In fact, the attraction used to be the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse and far superior ... to the Tarzan Treehouse, not superior to the Robert Louis Stevenson book. Ha! It was a subtle homage of vintage suitcases, silver hairbrushes and antique china to the durable and genteel, accidental survivalists from the mind of the man from Edinburgh. Happily, some of the props have remained in place.

Once again, merci pour écouter, thanks for listening; I think I have some ideas brewing. I imagine, alongside reading more of Mr. Edgar Rice Burroughs, a few more trips through the treehouse may very well be in order.

Update to Post: I did indeed come up with an article for Comic-Con 2012 and it was published in the annual Souivernir Book. Read it here!

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All photos by Loren Javier

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