Maker Faire: Mission Accomplished

Walking into Maker Faire has the potential to cause immediate sensory overload, but less like dropping acid in Vegas à la Hunter S. and more like being a kid in FAO Schwarz. Well, except that plenty of the tinkerers featured have probably dropped acid somewhere in Nevada (hint: Burning Man), but that's beside the point. The point is that this year's second annual Austin Maker Faire hosted representatives from so many "maker" subgroups that once past the initial shock of it all, your knit-happy grandmother, the Enchanted Forest crowd, crafty hipsters, and even high school robotics teams could all find something to enjoy.

The Techies: "Is anybody here to see some robot carnage?" Hell yes, and robot carnage the fair delivered. In addition to booths on robotics and the many uses of lasers, the fair featured battle bots duking it out in a bullet-proof, Plexiglas arena. I never thought I'd get so much joy from watching a 340-pound hunk of metal spiraling through the air to its defeat, but, boy howdy, does that carry its own special beauty. And the 7-year-old sitting behind me screaming, "Ziggy! You rock!" at the top of his little lungs seemed to agree.

On the other side of the arena stood what I considered to be the real belle of the ball: ArcAttack! As I meandered across the show floor Sunday afternoon, I was stopped in my tracks by a quiet, electrically musical whir. The Tesla coils were warming up, tiny, smokelike wisps of light reaching toward an electric guitar hanging from the ceiling. Moments later, giant arcs from the two coils played the Flying V over Justin Timberlake's "SexyBack." Bestill my geeky heart.

The Foodies: The food tent was tempting with its offerings of lulu b's vietnamese sandwiches, Torchy's Tacos, honey, chocolates, salsas, jams, and box gardens, but my handy dandy postcard calorie chart warned me not to stick around, and I listened.

The Carnies: Have you ever played a guitar with a bike? Ridden in a snake? Wished that Mouse Trap was big enough to catch your parents? These makers have you covered. They may not actually work at carnivals, but they seem to deal in the somewhat twisted childhood fantasies I've come to associate with traveling amusement parks and the people who work them. Cyclecide showed up in full force with its rides Flight of the Bumblebee and Axegrinder, a tower with six guitars at the top that could be rotated and played by riding a bike attached to a gear system. Austin Bike Zoo brought its Rattlesnake, a massive, skeletal creation that slithered through the fair as people rode the bikes built into its frame, and Mark Perez's life-sized Mouse Trap drew crowds with its grandeur and vaudeville flair.

The Traditional Crafters: To be clear, most of these people can only be referred to as "traditional" in the sense that they're not building killer robots or bike snakes or giant mousetraps. Other than that, anything goes. Walking through the show barn, I met a peanut carver who uses "the germ of the peanut to convince you of different visions." Take from that what you will. I also saw wooden alphabet blocks carved in a mad-scientist theme with (wait for it …) lasers, made my own keychain out of mahjongg tiles at a Dremel demonstration, picked up some necessary supplies from the Sublime Stitching crew, and bought a raunchy pair of panties sporting a tiger and crossed pink disposable razors on the front. The ladies from Model Citizen Clothing told me I could model them for the website … I said I'd think about it.

Maker Faire's official mission is to "inspire" crafters "by showing how much fun it is to make things." I was a little overwhelmed, but I went home on Sunday and pulled out my long-neglected Dremel tool. Mission accomplished.