This is a long post. And certainly chock full of mistakes.
Deal with it.
💙
I did a “wild” thing this month. I crossed the busiest international border in the world and took two flights during a global software hiccough to go to the Voices Against Cancer 605 Pop-Culture Con in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
Some of the cast of the Ahsoka live-action Star Wars series were slated to appear there. George Takei would be there… It’s an event to raise funds for kids with cancer…
Of all the people attending this event, however, the draw for me was Lars Mikkelsen- actor, Timothy Zahn- author, and Marc Thompson- voice animator. These three people have made and brought to life a particular Star Wars character that I have been in love with since I was roughly eleven years old. You may have heard of someone called Thrawn, perhaps? Eh, perhaps not. He’s still lesser known than my other hard crush- Darth Vader. (⸝⸝- ̫ -⸝⸝)
When I heard that these people would be in one place on earth I started daydreaming about going.
And then I found myself buying tickets and, well, going! On behalf of those that I know/have known who dealt with cancer- including myself, it felt right to. If my nephew Justin was allowed to grow up and had remained a nerd, he would have loved it.
While traveling, I was blissfully unaware of what was happening with the CrowdStrike Microsoft outage until I arrived at the Denver Airport and saw Timothy Zahn at my gate stressing about the flight delays. But who cares about massive blackouts? I was on a plane with Timothy Zahn! The man who brought Thrawn into the Star Wars universe!
Because the poor guy was running behind his schedule, I was respectful and did not “harass” him as a fan. But because I am a watcher type, I did feel like a stalker though… which is not exactly the kind of energy I want to bring… ugh.
It was novel to not be sharing a hotel room for once. I was happy to have a space where I could e x p a n d – leave all my crap everywhere and generally not be considerate of others. It is a luxury I have not known often.
On my own, in a safe place for the first time in a long time after these COVID years and my chronic sickness + prolonged recovery made being around different people in a different region more intense; both vivid and dreamlike.
I was very much by myself and stepping out of an isolation tank into this sea of exuberant souls. It was nearly dizzying, and I had to play like I am a capable middle-aged adult.
Cons are the place to wave any freaky fan flags you’ve got. People of all ages were dressed in these seriously involved costumes; some built their own astromech droids; one produced stained glass artworks—freakin’ stained glass! I was humbled by the talent and love these people were bringing to the event.
I watched grown midwestern men practically skip back to their families bubbling and fluttering over their encounters with celebrities. FLUTTERING: As you would ascribe to schoolgirls; as my internal systems had been doing for weeks. I could look around and see the very same hormonal processes happening in me in those around me. It was neat.
On the last day of the con, there was this lone human standing first in line for a photo op. She was a nuclear meltdown of fandom joy that I could feel fifty feet away. With this vivacity, I knew when I saw her… I knew- I felt- something… And that gave me spark enough to ask her for her contact information, and once we started chattering, I discovered I was already acquainted with her on social media due to our similar rabid interests. Go figure!
With her help, I was able to ask the voice animator Marc Thompson to tell me something beautiful as the character Thrawn. And he did! I hit record, held out my phone, lowered my head and closed my eyes for fourteen seconds to pull all the magic of the improvised moment down around us. I was shaking afterward. He left me with something better than his signature on a scrap of paper.
Thanks, Trisha!
I wish I had met her sooner because I can be a whole entire alien sometimes when it comes to greeting people.
For my encounter with Lars for the first time to get an autograph, I could not emanate the word sounds of human communication.
I was looking at his hands, how he was signing his name in blue marker; assessing how he was wearing colder weather clothing because it was freezing in the convention center; seeing that he had shaved his beard off, noting the color and length of his hair under his flat cap; feeling how tall he is…
He reached out to shake my hand. I took it in mine, noticing the grip was polite and we were the same temperature. We were the same temperature! I didn’t have to apologize for offering a cold hand for once. Then I thought I had better look up- look at him proper. He had some reaction to me with the eventual eye contact, though I could not exactly translate the look. I am sure he wanted to be certain that we had greeted properly somehow even without an exchange of words.
I just could not make my vocal cords work. I am- I have been- a damned performer too- ffs! I have a tome of things to speak about with someone like him, but nothing would come. No snappy banter. No wildly inappropriate remarks to make myself turn red. Nothing. I was overtired, jet-lagged, and there were these two loud girls behind me in line, leaving no room for my modest voice. I tried to block them out. I failed.
When I had my picture taken with him later, I think I mumbled hello to his greeting and shook his hand once more. I still could not really address him, or ask him for a hug, or request to pose a certain way. He just put his arm about my shoulder and I put my arm about his back… as you do in photos. His presence was so very easy to be in. But I felt rushed by the event people. They want to keep everything moving along.
As I was walking away, he called after me, saying, “That was quick.”
All I could do was look back and shrug at him like, Hey, that’s how it is.
Stupid, stupid Magario that I am.
Then the shakes hit me as I went to pick up my photo. My brain was trying to process everything on a scant four hours of sleep. I was high on dopamine, endorphins, whatever; I wanted to cry and dance and sleep all at the same instant.
It was delight, and it was a slog.
By the time I took my final photo with Timothy Zahn, Marc Thompson, and Lars Mikkelsen together I did find some of my voice. (Thanks Trisha!)
I greeted the men with “Hello humans” and shook the hands they offered. They chuckled in amusement that I actually addressed them in such a way.
After the picture was taken, I stood for a moment focused on the nothing in the middle-distance- I could not look at them directly, and just I forced myself to speak aloud.
I thanked them…
I said, “Thank you all for ruining my life.”
They chuckled again.
Lars, I think, was happy that I could eventually speak up. He reached out and touched my arm and back while saying something perhaps meant to be encouraging like, “Hey, there you go!”
Points to me for making them laugh, eh?
But I was so dazed I could not say more.
As I cannot imagine that this blog will be ever read by… people, few will know what it means for me to have made such an effort, at such an expense, to travel so far on my own to breathe air with… such talented and beautiful creatures- celebrities and fans alike.
After all I have been through, I feel like a pale shadow- the palest shadow of an artist. I am no writer; I am voiceless; I am without expression, unable to embody anything… stuttering, muted, bent down… creating nothing of real worth… sigh…
They (be)held a ghost and didn’t realize it.
Existing (even vaguely) the in the same location at the same time with people who have given me a happy place to go in my head- well, that is- that is… practically indecent! Even in a safe space, to let on shamelessly that I love a fictional character so fervently is… difficult for an introverted, sensitive person. Some things are just so much more distressing to reveal when the blush response nearly hurts. It’s more akin to the vomit reflex.
We shared tiny personal moments in the name of fictional characters.
It’s a ridiculous and human thing to do… and has been healing.
I have not had luck in finding typical therapy, but this- this experience was perhaps better than the talking cure or what have you. Call it exposure therapy.