Now that Celebration 1 is a memory, all over again, it’s time to write about other things. Exactly what I don’t know. I want to thank my friend John Booth for adding links to my C1 love-fest into his blog and also give a big shout out and congrat to him for being the newest contributor to the Geek Dad blog on WIRED.com. Click the link and check him out.
Now, off to think of other stuff.
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8am May 2, 1999: Last day… and I ain’t ready to leave.
My flight, however, would be leaving at 11pm , ready or not. I pack everything that morning because I’d be checking out before catching the bus to the convention. Since I’d been spending my days at Celebration, having dinner and hanging out in the lobby for most of the night, there wasn’t much sense in paying for a room I wouldn’t use before catching the 9pm bus to the airport. I had arranged to leave my bags in the valet luggage locker behind the front desk and I was ready to go. Rob and I met again for breakfast to go over the event schedule and make a plan for the last day, then went to meet up with everyone from the previous day. Mike walked over to our hotel to hang out before the bus showed up. Unfortunately, the others had caught an earlier shuttle and we didn’t catch up.
The day was spent checking out the ILM displays in the exhibitor hangar. Favorite displays included a Millenium Falcon model, the Episode 1 C3PO and Scout Walker and Tie Fighter models from Episode V. An R2D2 rolled about the floor, stopping to chat with guests and pose for photos. A few yards behind was a gentleman carrying a magazine in a rather ungainly manner. It was, in fact, R2’s operator trying fruitlessly to hide the remote control. He looked up and smiled as I walked by, it was Don Bies. Way Cool.
We checked out displays of all the toys that were scheduled to go on sale at the midnight Toys R Us Star Wars release and filled out raffle cards to win pieces of the Taco Bell and Pepsi displays. Ben Burtt was doing a presentation, Steve Sansweet had a panel on collecting and Anthony Daniels was set to host the closing ceremonies at the end of the day. As we walked to the line for Ben’s panel we saw something we had not seen all weekend. The Sun! The rain had stopped, the clouds had parted and the fog was almost completely lifted. The Rocky Mountains were finally visible at the horizon! A nice treat for the last day.
I don’t recall much about the panels and closing ceremonies – apologies to Ben, Steve and Anthony, but it was ten years ago. The big news was that some dealers in the vendor tent were having huge discounts because the tent leaked. We ducked in but the soggy posters and wet boxed items really weren’t worth the discounts being offered. We went through the exhibitor hangar one last time and discovered that Mike won part of the Pepsi display in the raffel. A huge Darth Maul printed on plastic awaited him along with a Naboo Fighter printed on cardboard. He offered his winnings to Rob and me as thanks for the previous night’s dinner but I just didn’t have the means to carry either piece on the way home.
We made our way to the bus, sadly looking back at the convention grounds. The mud glistened in the late afternoon sun but more storm clouds were gathering just above the horizon. Maybe it was time to leave after all.
As I prepared to board the bus I noticed a couple of folks wandering toward the grounds, all decked out in black and silver. My first, clueless thought was, “What are Oakland Raiders fans doing here?” Then, as they turned around I noticed the forehead ridges….
KLINGONS?!
As I looked around I saw the motion of the crowd begin to slow as all eyes moved toward them. They were obviously out for some attention, and they were getting it.
“Wrong convention,” shouted one fan.
“Go back to your own galaxy,” shouted another.
One plucky lad of no more than 7 or 8 flipped the bird as his mortified mom pulled his hand down and his dad laughed. All Geeks, apparently, are not created equal. On the bus I’d heard talk of a Star Trek convention that was happening at a nearby hotel. I could only wonder how many Jedi would now be crashing their party.
We arrived at the hotel in time to watch a sunset. I hadn’t seen one of those since before I left Orlando. Later, a lengthy dinner gave way to some convention stories with other fans in the lobby. Rob had an early flight and was soon off to pack. We exchanged addresses and wished each other a fun Episode I premier. A little while later, I was headed for the airport. The rain had held off and I took some time to gaze at the stars before the bus arrived. No Star Destroyers were visible.
Another series of flights awaited and a two and a half hour lay-over in Atlanta meant plenty of time for a turbulence free nap. My flight from Colorado turned out to be a smooth one and I slept almost the whole way. The flight from Atlanta was filled with memories of the convention, looking over books and programs and replacing the sadness of having to leave with the anticipation of opening day which was not far off.
Orlando greeted me with a sunny, warm morning. My dad picked me up and listened as I went on and on during the whole drive back. He’d taken me to see Episode IV, V and was my ride to VI. I’m sure he was having flashbacks of those drives home. Once back at my apartment I left the unpacking for whenever I woke up. I’d scheduled an extra day off and used the time to catch up on much needed sleep.
When I awoke, sometime that afternoon, it was raining. I went back to sleep.
I had written Rob once or twice since the convention but we eventually lost touch.
John got to experience Celebration 2 – sans rain and mud – at the Indianapolis Convention Center.
John and I both had a monumentally cool time at C3, again in Indy. We passed on C4 and eagerly await C5.
Look on Wikepedia and you’ll hardly see a mention of the first Celebration. For whatever reason the following 3 were better documented. That’s another reason I decided to post my memories.
Every so often I’ll meet someone who was at C1. Some will simply roll their eyes, some will smile with fond recollection. I’m one of the latter. For all it’s issues – the rain, the lines, the autograph refusals – C1 was an experience to remember. Of course there were going to be problems, we all knew that going in. You can find bad points in anything if you look hard enough. What matters are the memories that are made, the fans you meet and the celebration of the films that made our childhood. And our lives.
End … until the next gathering.
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7am May 1, 1999: Relaxed and refreshed!
After an unexpectedly long night’s sleep I was ready for Day 2. My 3am snack had long worn off and I awoke in a ravenous mood. I showered and dressed quickly, eager only for the breakfast buffet in the lobby restaurant. Rob and I had agreed to meet there when I took my early leave the evening before. We met up at the elevators and he caught me up on what I missed the night before – not much. A group of fans hung out in the lobby bar and there was a get together advertised at a local club. We talked about going to that night’s Jar Jar Jam – the official Convention party hosted by Ahmed Best and attended by most of the Celebration celebrity guest list – but later found out it was sold out.
After stuffing ourselves on eggs, English muffins, bacon and hash browns we made our way to the bus stop. It hadn’t started raining yet so we could wait outside. I saw my Jedi friend from the day before, dressed in civilian attire, and the folks from the Matrix discussion. We all planned on hanging together for the day’s events and managed to stay together on the bus and at the convention grounds. Later, we met up with a neighbor from one of our many line experiences the day before. His name was Mike, Rob had chatted with him before the opening ceremonies and he happened to find us again. We arrived early enough to consider waiting in the merchandise line. It only snaked about 10 yards out the front of the exhibitor hangar so it seemed a safe bet that we’d have a short wait.
Time was passed swapping rumors of who-saw-who out and about the previous evening. Ray Park was said to have been out at a club, Rick McCallum allegedly hung out with a bunch of fans at some hotel bar. Stories like this seemed out of sorts only because this was not a celebrity accessible event. There were no autographs permitted and fans were told in advance that all special guests would not be signing. There were the occasional signatures being shown off. This gave some credence to the rumors of after hours sightings because everyone was pretty well guarded at the convention grounds. The conversation continued and as the wind pelted a cold drizzle onto our faces. We were used to the inconveniences that Mother Nature had been dolling out over the past 24 hours. Besides, the line was practically inside the exhibitor hangar. Upon peeking through the door we saw that it continued in 3 more rows, each extending nearly half the length of the immense building before reaching the actual entry to the convention store. The only welcome side-effect to this dose of reality was that we were going to be waiting inside.
As time and patience wore on, those in our little group and our neighbors in line agreed to work in shifts. A few people at a time would leave for a trip to the bathroom, a bite to eat or just a change of scenery while the rest kept vigil and took not of everyone’s place in line. Each of us got about three breaks over the next 2 hours. We’d bring back snacks and give away items, price lists on various items of interest at the vendor tent and get updates on the event schedule which would change on occasion. This was a definite highlight of the weekend, fans working together.
The line moved faster than we actually expected and once we got into the store, it flew by. No one could wander and browse. Displays were situated near the line so you took what you wanted and paid at the end with some items only available by request at the cash register.
Bogged down with baggage and cardboard poster tubes, it was then time to check out some of the presentations — which meant more lines. Memorable details from the Day 2 shows were watching Ray Park do a standing back flip and stunt demonstration and listening to Warwick Davis complain about Anthony Daniel’s. Apparently, during an earlier presentation, Daniels had made some unflattering remarks about his Ewok expreiences on the ROTJ set and Davis was asked his take during a Q&A. It was all in fun. After his Q&A, Davis was approached by some autograph seekers at the foot of the stage. He obliged. With that, the entire audience made for the stage with programs, badges and markers in hand. He signed for everyone who waited – EVERYONE. Event staffers asked him to come along, but they were ignored. What were they gonna do, carry him off and risk retribution from the wet, cold and line weary masses? This gesture seemed to make up for a lot of previous inconveniences. The fans were happy.
After getting our Warwick autographs we had enough time to get to the vendor tent to do a little collectible shopping. A Star Wars re release poster with a teaser for the upcoming “Revenge of the Jedi” was tops on my list. It was, in fact, my only vintage collectible purchase of the event and still has a cherished place on my wall.
Back on the bus, Mike was worried that he wouldn’t have enough cash to last the rest of his stay. Both Rob and I had spent considerably less that we’d planned – not surprising for me, considering the money I saved on food the day before. We offered to buy him dinner at our hotel, Mike was staying at a hotel just down the block so he could get off at our stop and then walk back. During dinner we looked over our stash of give away items, collectibles and Warwick Davis autographs. Later, we chatted with fellow fans in the lobby and got the skinny on the Jar Jar Jam when party goers returned later that evening. Ahmed Best hosted and played with his band, Ray Park sang (really?) and lots of people got drunk. Glad I saved my cash for Day 3.
Soon it was time for bed. One more day on our adventure, already sad to see it coming to an end. Not sad enough to keep from passing out as soon as I met up with my pillow.
… to be continued.
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8:30am, April 30, 1999 A New Day! Still raining, but new none the less.
I awoke ready to take in all that Day 1 of the Celebration had to offer. After a much needed shower I unpacked and took a quick look at the folder the front desk clerk had given me upon my bleary-eyed check in the night before. Upon opening the folder I realized the joy that one who had never stayed at a Doubletree Hotel could only have after a long trip and a short-night’s sleep…
there were COOKIES in there! Two, huge, chocolate chip cookies!
I really must have been a mess the night before to have missed them. I then realized my first challenge of the day was already met – finding breakfast. Coffee, fresh from the in-room coffee maker. A cereal bar – I packed a few for snacking. A chocolate chip cookie, big and very rich. And I didn’t have to spend a dime. Great Day In The Mornin’!
After my feast I donned my Star Wars ball cap, rain jacket and backpack and headed down the hall to the elevators. Shuttles to the Wings Over The Rockies Air And Space Museum were leaving every twenty minutes – or so said the information in my cookie-laiden information folder. As I left my room I wondered how many fellow fans were at my hotel. No one on the plane seemed to be sporting any Star Wars gear or even mentioned the con and I found the hotel lobby rather empty when I arrived in the wee hours. Upon arriving at the elevators, I saw no one. I was either late or very early. The door opened as soon as I pressed the down button and I stepped in. Just as the door began to close I heard approaching footsteps and a voice … “hold the door please?!” I did. After a moment, a flowing brown robe turned the corner and stepped into the elevator. I’d be riding with a Jedi this morning. He saw my Star Wars cap and we both just smiled. I complimented his light saber hilt on the ride down. He explained how it was all machined metal, no re used parts. He unhooked it and handed it to me to check out. It was heavy, and very well made. No sooner did I hand it back than the elevator doors opened. First floor!
The quiet hotel lobby of the night before was now bustling. My Jedi friend and I quickly lost each other in the crowd but fans were everywhere. I had never seen such a huge gathering of Star Wars faithful. Kids in all manner of costume. Adults in t shirts and the occasional Darth Vader helmet or Jedi robe. Looking back, there were generally not a lot of costumes. The high quality armor, body paint and weapon props were not as widespread as they are now. Then again, clothing does not make the geek. The sentiment and loyalty of this crowd was palpable, and I wasn’t even at the convention yet.
Shuttle busses were now running and I needed a place in line. The convention officially opened at noon but the bus ride would take a while and registration… who knows. I followed signs and the crowd to the bus stop – which didn’t have any cover from the downpour that, surprisingly, wasn’t letting up. The rain prompted a temporary solution, we waited in the lobby. There was still time before the next bus so conversation popped up at random – fans getting to know fans. Everything from ‘where are you from?’ to ‘how many times did you see Episode IV in the theater?’ This was why I made the trip. Props to the event and all the wonders that await but there was nothing, NOTHING like being among so many people who shared this common bond. I kept thinking about my friend and fellow Star Wars nut John who, sadly, could not make it to the festivities. The only thing that could have made it cooler was to have my friend among all these friends.
I recall discussing The Matrix with a couple from, I think, Pennsylvania. Bad writing but great story, awesome effects but questionable acting – it’s almost like Star Wars AND there will be sequals! ‘I bet they will be good,’ said the husband. Yeah, well, time has a way of beating the crap out of many an observation; from ‘can’t wait for the Matrix II’ to ‘Jar Jar looks like an AWESOME character.’
The bus arrived just as the rain let up. We filed on, sat down, then off we went. It was crowded but no one cared, more time for conversation. I chatted with Rob, the guy in the seat next to me. He was a Star Wars toy collector from way back. We talked about the evolution of the industry, the detail in the new sculpts but that they just didn’t look as cool as the first ones we ever saw. Fans getting to know fans.
The bus arrived just in time for it to start raining again. The ground was barely visible for the crowd that moved from the bus stop to The Wings Over The Rockies Air and Space Museum. The overcast skies didn’t dampen their spirit, which was a shame because the lines were friggin ridiculous. I don’t recall the registration process, which leads me to believe it went smoothly. Rob and I managed to stay in touch through the registration mob so we continued on to the convention grounds, looking over the event list and taking in the sights.
Most of the day was spent waiting in lines. All of which were outside and the rain rarely let up. But it was worth it. While waiting for the opening ceremonies: Anthony Daniels walked by the line and said hello, an impromtu trivia contest broke out, Chewbacca walked by (I heard it was an employee wearing one of the actual ILM prop suits but it was never verified) and a friendly security guard made jokes and told stories about his former job as a bar bouncer.
The presentations included: Video greetings from cast and crew, and George. Behind the scenes footage and new trailer material (the crowd took particular interest in the Philly Blunts shirt Ewan McGregor wore in the video footage of his lightsaber stunt training). Doug Chiang and Trisha Biggar talking about design and costuming. Rick McCallum talking about being the producer of a Star Wars film and the F’ing sandstorms they had to put up with while filming on location (Rick’s colorful like that).
The hangars of the air and space museum housed ILM prop displays, the merchandise area and various sponsor displays. Everything from free kids meal toys to posters to books to drink cups was up for grabs. Most of it went real fast. Life size Star Wars characters made of Legos stood guard at one end, pinball machines and video games instigated more lines at another end. Somewhere in the middle sat a full sized X Wing fighter. And I thought the machined light saber hilt was cool! Also, costumes were easier to find in this location. A girl in a Slave Leia outfit received her share of attention, a very well painted Darth Maul prowled the exhibitor floor and, of course, Jedi roamed the grounds.
Sooner or later, it got late. Very late. Time flies when you’re chatting and waiting in line and staring in amazement and… not eating. I hadn’t had a bit to eat since breakfast and my head was starting to hurt. No restaurants had we at the first Celebration. No food courts to retreat to. There were Taco Bell, Pizza Hut and KFC kiosks set up outside the exhibitor hangar. Yep, outside. Mud, rain, lines and Taco Bell. A couple beef burritos and a Pepsi were inhaled and then it was off to check out the vendor tent for a few minutes until closing time.
While checking out the collectibles, and then on the bus, the headache came back. This is what sometimes happens when one waits way too long to eat and then gorges on junk. I felt progressively worse as the headache became a stomach ache. I held it together until we got to the hotel. When I could finally get off the bus I started feeling normal, then not. I made it into the lobby and into a door labeled “washroom” hoping for an actual bathroom. It was, however, a washroom. Sinks only. I didn’t have time to rationalize the absurdity of the situation, the chicks cannot hold the smoke and I could not hold the burrito. Needless to say, nature took it’s backward course into one of the sinks and I soon felt well enough to make it back to my room for some Tylenol and a nap.
The nap turned into all out sleep and I awoke at 3am needing something to munch on. Fortunately I only ate one cookie the previous morning and it’s cousin was waiting for me on the table. I spent the next half hour watching random television stations as I drank a Coke, ate my cookie and went over the previous day in my mind. All in all, I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Bring on Day 2!
… to be continued.
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The adventure began at night.
Eager to stretch my vacation budget I booked a late night flight to Colorado with a connecting flight in Atlanta. The first leg of the journey left Orlando at about 10pm on April 29th. The plan was to get to the hotel by 3am, sleep for 4 hours and get to the bus stop in plenty of time for the hotel shuttle to the convention. My dad dropped me off at Orlando International Airport with time to spare and the short nap I took in the terminal would serve me well.
The flight was late, surprise number 1. As I gathered my carry-ons – this was 1999 so we were still permitted enough carry on luggage to “gather”, a curious gathering of passengers by the window would lead to surprise number 2. People were gathered to stare at the plane, which was riddled with paint scratches on the face and scuffs on the windshield. Seriously, the thing looked like it flew through a thousand miles of hail. Once we boarded, the exterior paled in comparison to the interior. They didn’t call these things “air buses” for nothing. From the tattered seats to the smell, it was just like riding public transportation.
The flight to Atlanta went by, thankfully, without incident. Our layover in Atlanta, unfortunately, was not so smooth. It turned out the lateness of out departure left us only 18 minutes to board our connecting flight to Colorado. Not only were we told the flight was leaving from the other side of the airport, but the automated walkways and escalators were down. I’d heard the Atlanta Airport was pretty big. It was. I’m sure they would have held the flight for us but when you’re in a crowd of redeye travelers and spending the night in Atlanta is not an option, a signed guarantee from the Pope wouldn’t hold holy water. So, we did what any irrational mob would do. RUN.
With the theme from Chariots of Fire playing in our heads (cause one guy was actually humming it) we made it with minutes to spare. Memories of the connecting flight are limited to: turbulence, warm Coke, turbulence, watching Seinfeld on the in flight television system, turbulence, and many futile attempts to sleep — because of turbulence.
Our flight arrived late, how late I don’t recall, but it felt good to know I was finally in Colorado and less than 20 minutes from the hotel. The next order of business was to get to the bus stop and meet the courtesy shuttle to the hotel. Upon exiting the terminal and stepping into the Colorado night, the next order of business was to dig through my carry ons for 2 sweatshirts and an umbrella.
‘Oh well, I’m hear. And it can’t rain ALL weekend.’ … HA!
I marched toward the row of hotel signage at the bus stop looking for mine, The Doubletree. I marched. And marched. And walked. And meandered. And stumbled about. Hmmm, no Doubletree sign. No #@!!*&*%#@ Doubletree Sign! Did the company go out of business during the migration across Atlanta airport? Keep in mind, it’s 1999, cell phones were not a standard accessory. I had no change to use the pay phone and what was the front desk gonna do for me at that hour anyway? No bus meant no bus.
I happened upon another shuttle (Hilton I think) and the bus driver, awaiting his passengers. I asked him where to get the Doubletree shuttle. He wasn’t sure but informed me that the Doubletree was just down the street from his stop. ‘Can I hitch a ride,’ I asked. ‘Well, I’m only supposed to go to the Hilton and back,’ was his response. He smelled desperation, it was all over me. Like a cheap suit… that smelled of desperation. I dug into my pocket and pulled out five bucks. It didn’t smell like enough so I pulled out another five. Behold, my first successful bribe. His passengers arrived and once they were aboard, so was I. We pulled away from the bus stop — THAT’s when I noticed the #@!!*&*%#@ Doubletree sign at another stop. It was vacant so I felt vindicated.
I arrived at the hotel 25 minutes later. I needed a shower, I needed to unpack and I needed to sleep. Guess which one won out. It was still raining outside and I was lulled to sleep by the sound of the drops hitting my window. A few more hours and the Celebration would begin.
… to be continued.
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I was never one for blogging.
I’ve written news features, stories, even posted daily reports from local events. Random thoughts and daily updates from the everyday, however, are not something I indulge in on a regular basis. My good friend, John Booth, is a writer extraordinaire. Even his enthusiasm for blogging can’t get beyond the ADD-esque make-up of my thought process. Without an assignment to fulfill, no happenings to observe and report in a journalistic sense, I have a tough time getting the words out.
That’s still the case, however I now find myself typing for the sake of typing for one reason that I did not see coming until late this morning. In the midst of some house cleaning I stood in the middle of my spare bedroom/study/room-where-I-display-my-Star-Wars-collection. While looking at my Celebration 1 poster – something I’ve gazed upon more times than I can recall – the reality of the 10 year anniversary of that long weekend in Colorado dawned on me.
It’s been TEN YEARS since I marched across the mud with several thousand of my closest friends. TEN YEARS since I saw Anthony Daniels in person for the first time. Since I first stood next to a full-size X-Wing. Since I saw a real Chewbacca costume face-to-face. Since my first “Star Wars Only” event since waiting 2 hours in line to buy an opening day ticket for Return Of The Jedi. One event. One purpose. One collective mind. Many, many, many fellow geeks.
In the coming days I’ll try to piece together the shreds of memory that hang like so many cobwebs in my mind. I’ll even attempt to find, scan and post some photos — taken on film! Remember film? My purpose is simple: To wallow in the warm and fuzzies of a memorable event ; Share them with whomever finds them; Have those of you who were there share your memories of the rain, trolling for autographs and the day-long line at the merch tent.
May The Force, And The Memories, Be With You.
… to be continued.
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