My fellow gamer and longtime Dragon*Con veteran Brad Peinhardt said, "There is no sensible purchase in the Dealer Room." The dealer room at Dragon*Con is the finest source for weird media I've yet seen. A large room where culture purveyors of all shapes and sizes set up tables and booths and sell Dragon*Con cultural artifacts to the crowds, it's a microcosm of the overlapping cultures involved in the conference. A walk through the Dealer Room yields anime videos, tapes of British comedy, wooden staves with attached crystal balls, feather and string Native American dream catchers, erotic horror DVDs, custom fitted vampire canine teeth, imitation Star Trek phasers, leather masquerade masks, rear windshield stickers from the Klingon Naval Academy, ID badges for Moulder and Scully from the X-files, comic books, knives and swords of all shapes and dimensions, and Franklin mint-type porcelain statues of hunky devils ravishing bosom bare-chested blonde lassies. I tried to imagine where I could find a place in my life for one of those - I couldn't imagine either my coworkers or my girlfriend appreciating one as part of the decor. And that was the non-gaming related stuff. There was a plethora of rare magic cards, old D&D supplements, detailed miniatures, new role-playing game books and booths from game manufacturers showing off their new games. If I had been able to spend my allowance there as a teenager, I would have been more warped today. I had been into some anime, some Dungeons and Dragons, some weird British comedy, but I never had access to those cultures so intensely. Most of the dealers there were fans that have turned their passion for gaming or media into a business. I met one guy who drives to 48 "cons" a year, with his truck loaded with old game materials and weapons. He makes a few thousand dollars each conference, enough to support himself until the next event. I'd been admiring the Illuminati: New World Order collectible card game for a while as it boasts a rare political humor. I found a starter deck and packs of cards for sale at the Steve Jackson Games booth. After immediately tearing them open and thoroughly enjoying the descriptions and characters on the cards, I was about to buy another load of cards. Speaking to a small card salesman, a guy with a hand-painted sign and some books of magic cards on wooden crates, he said, "Why pay retail?" He then turned me onto some online wholesalers. Since there were so many obscure bootleg videos on hand, I tried to track down Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story, made with Barbie dolls by Todd Solenz. Though there was plenty Battle of the Planets and Greatest American Hero episodes on tape, nobody had what I wanted. I bought my Amy a signed photograph of Mike TeeVee, Paris Themmen, the actor from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Dragon*Con was my first fan con, and so I was surprised to see so many tables with sixty-something actors who became famous as second in command of some ship in the third season of Battlestar Galactica. On the table, you can look at glossy photos of the actors fully made up in their 70s style space gear, and then look past them to see the more mature faces of the actors today. Actually, there were stars of all ages at Dragon*Con: young starlets displaying deep cleavage, and aged men from shows which I hadn't been born in time to enjoy. My favorite was Karen Black. I recognized her name and face, but I didn't know from where. I had a great time chatting with her. These people are the living embodiments of viewers' fantasies, and the cons thrive in part on brokering the chance to rub up against this stardom.