OK, so going back a week and a half ...
Nicole and I were excited to go to the Chiller Theater convention at the Parsippany Hilton hotel. If you go back a while in the blog archive (it shouldn't take long, given my lack of updates), you'll find the story of how we discovered the convention - by landing smack-dab in the middle of it by accident, the first night we spent as official residents of New Jersey. They apparently have conventions every six months or so (the next one is in October), so I was practically counting down the days in anticipation of being able to attend as a paying visitor.
I ordered advance tickets, given that they were a couple of bucks less than they would have been at the door, and I didn't want to have to wait in a line anyway. I figured with tickets in hand, we'd get there early-ish and blow through in maybe two hours. I couldn't have been further from reality with that assumption.
Just to be safe, I took out what I thought would be way too much money to need, but since one never knows what variety of awesome might happen upon us at an event like this, better safe than sorry. As it turns out, this was a good idea.
We walked through the main entrance of the hotel, only to find that the ticket-for-wristband exchange was through the building, at the rear entrance. Past the main signing area. Past two of the three wings of the hotel's first floor also being used for the convention. Past literally THOUSANDS of people milling about.
We got our wristbands, though, and didn't have to wait in the predictably growing day-of-show purchasers. Then we headed back in, thinking we'd jump into the line for the main signing area because, according to the convention program, that's were Mick Foley and Daniel Baldwin (our respective reasons for attending the convention in the first place) were supposed to be signing. A big guy in a too-tight shirt (one of MANY we saw that day, by the way) was waving people toward the wall, explaining that fire marshals were in the building monitoring how many people were in particular areas, and that if any area got too overcrowded, the marshals would shut down the show, evacuate the place, and let people in a bit at a time. With so many people there, and with the possibility of nerd/misfit anarchy running rampant, I have to commend the staff for the thankless job they actually did. But, as a result, the line we thought was going to lead us to Messrs. Foley and Baldwin actually stretched much further than we though, as we inadvertently tried to bisect the line by jumping in it at the wrong point. Nobody took exception, though, because everyone who just arrived at the convention did the same thing.
So we didn't know what to do, or where to start.
Seeing a sign pointing to one of the other first floor wings with guests, we headed down to see Jason Mewes (Jay), Marilyn Ghigliotti (Veronica, Dante's Girlfriend), and Brian O'Halloran (Dante) from "Clerks".
First of all, where was Jeff Anderson? I want Randall, dammit!
Anyway, as opposed to the main signing area, there was virtually nobody in their room when we went in - which makes it really awkward when you look at what the "stars" are charging for autographs and pictures and then decide you're going to pass. I mean, seriously. I'll talk more about the whole fee issue later in the post, but the point here is this: No offense to Marilyn Ghigliotti, who I'm sure is a lovely person, but for anyone who doesn't wipe their ass with twenty dollar bills, is her signature worth $20? $20? And then, if you wanted a photo with her, it was another $20 or $25. I don't remember.
I liked "Clerks". A lot. But spending just south of $50 for a picture and autograph of someone who's known for no other movies and kind of just looks like someone's aunt or neighbor seemed a bit steep. So I passed.
Jay Mewes was charging essentially the same prices. Sorry Noah - I passed. I hope the Mick Foley autograph will partially make up for it ... I just couldn't pull the trigger on this one. Mewes, for the record, had short cropped hair and was starting to sound a little bit like Steve-O. Apparently he's clean these days, and hope it's true, but he didn't seem very "Jay" like - which, frankly, was probably a relief. I wouldn't want to pass on an autograph and have him follow me rubbing his nipples and trying to show me his testicles.
That said, I'm sure he's also a nice guy - I saw a kid with a "Jay" action figure (I think the company that makes the Clerks line calls them "inaction figures", actually) signed. Predictably, the personalized inscription said "Snootchie Bootchie!" What an awful catchphrase.
Maybe next time, Jay ... when I have more disposable income. Not that
paying for all of the other autographs was justifiable either, I
realize, but I suppose you have to pick your battles.
However, Brian O'Halloran. Worth it. $20 got an autograph AND a photo, so I had him sign my "Clerks" soundtrack CD cover, which had been previously signed by Kevin Smith in the mid-90s when he did a Q&A screening of "Mallrats" in Harvard Square at the Brattle Theater. He's a bigger guy than I thought he'd be, somehow, and he was wearing a shirt he apparently stole from Triple H's locker.
Anyway, good guy. I said thanks, and snuck out of the room before Marilyn and Jay could wonder where their money was.
In the next rooms, we came across a bunch of McFarlane toys and a guy whittling away on something new; presumably he works for the company and was peddling his wares. He had some fun Simpsons stuff, some Halo stuff, all sorts of crazy crap I didn't recognize ... but as neat as it was, it's stuff I have no use for personally. I already have so many crazy knick-knacks and weird little toys that this stuff was out of my realm of interest.
Then we came across a couple of graphic artists who had some really
cool stuff. Given that certain brothers of ours might somehow come
across this post at some point, I will not give too many details for
fear of possibly spoiling Christmas. Needless to say, I truly hope
they are not disappointed, because I think what we got them kicks major
ass.
We bought these at the end of our day, after doing a cash
inventory and having a discussion of the merits of possible purchases.
One of the items Nicole bought was for ourselves, though. Rob Granito is an artist who has worked with Warner Brothers studios in the past, and he was selling a painting of Batman villain Scarecrow (it's 20x14, maybe? I'm terrible at estimating sizes). Nicole asked, "out of curiosity, how much is the painting", to which he replied "It's not my usual style, so it's only $100" (the others were in the $300 range, and many had "SOLD" signs on them). To which she replied, "we'll take it!".
The painting to the right now finds itself hanging in our kitchen, menacing anyone who would dare eat a bowl of cereal at the table. (For some reason, the photo came out with a pinkish hue - I'll try to post a better one later.)
We then headed into a second wing of the convention, still not ready to commit to the long line for the main signing area. We had no idea who we'd find when we turned any given corner.
Entering the first room down the hall in this wing, we were greeted - immediately at our right, at the first table in the room - by former wrestler Virgil (better known as a flunky to "The Million Dollar Man" Ted DiBiase. In fact, the banner above him had both of their names on it, leading me to believe that they both do the wrestling convention circuit together with some regularity. If DiBiase had been there, it might have been worth it, but Virgil alone ... well, not quite. My $20 was better spent on another wrestler, below. You'll understand why in a moment.).
Anyway, Virgil's a big dude. Bigger than I thought. He had a table full of photos from various stages in his career, including a glossy "n.W.o." one (no pictures of wrestlers, just the logo) pre-signed by Buff Bagwell and Scott Norton. Given that it isn't 1998, these didn't seem to be selling so well. I'd heard things about Virgil being kind of dickish to fans, but he seemed to be enjoying himself (and when we left the room, he had a little kid in a headlock while taking a picture, so more power to him. The kid had it coming.)
Also in this room were people I'd never heard of (Monique Dupree? Cynthia Gibb?), as well as Cindy Morgan ("Lacey Underall" from "Caddyshack"), Staci Keenan, who used to be on "My Two Dads" (imaginary conversation between the two of us: "So, was working with Paul Reiser as horrible as I imagine it was?" "Oh, much worse. Horribly unfunny. I can't believe I was on that show with that hack."), and William B. Davis from "The X-Files". He looks just as intimidating in real life as he does in the show. He seemed like a nice enough guy, though, judging by how he interacted with the fans at his table (though, once again, I didn't pony up personally).
The next room continued in the tradition of "I can't believe these people are all in the same room at the same time". There were some people I'd never heard of, of course, but Richard Kiel was there. Nicole and I met Mr. Kiel in Las Vegas a couple of years ago (that's where this photo was taken). You may remember him as "Jaws" from the James Bond movies. I can't speak highly enough about how genuinely wonderful he is with his fans. Just a true gentleman in every sense of the word, and if you ever have a chance to meet him, there's no way you'll think anything other than that of him.
Lou Ferrigno was in there, too. He's still all muscle. I can't believe that I'm technically the same species as he is. I almost plunked down for him ... of all my "maybe I should have" moments, in retrospect, he's number one on the list. Maybe next time.
Superstar Billy Graham - the guy who had his "look" stolen by Hulk Hogan, Jesse Ventura, Scott Steiner, among many others - was there, and he looked pretty good despite his frail physical conditions (Hip replacement, repercussions of steroids, etc.). There were a couple of b-movie (c-movie?) actresses (I recognized Tiffany Shepis from several Troma productions, for instance).
But then, in the corner of the room, in a somewhat awkward moment given that I was at the convention with my own beautiful wife - TNA Knockout Gail Kim.
Now, Nicole is a wrestling fan (in passing, at least) because I've essentially forced her to be, but even she knows that Gail Kim being released by WWE was a big mistake because the woman busts her ass in the ring and is a great performer. A statement I obviously agree with.
But man, oh man ... talk about easy on the eyes. Whooaah, baby. So even though I knew I was essentially wasting my money, I got a signature and a Polaroid with her because ... well. Damn. She's actually kind of tiny, and she's got big fake boobs, and she was wearing a glorified nighty of some sort. At least, that's the way I'm going to remember it.
Sitting next to her was Christy Hemme, whom I also almost got a picture with. Her hair's gonna fall out from all of the dying, and she wanted $40 for an autographed Playboy magazine.
The two of them were working with one guy - some sort of handler, I suppose - and they both had the same style of sign/cost sheet, so it would seem the two work together on the convention circuit regularly.
That said, a quick sidebar: Searching for information about other similar conventions (and no matter how much I swear to you I wasn't looking for this site in particular, there's no way you're going to believe me), I came across this link, which indicates that Hemme and Kim, at the Steel City Con in 2007, "[offered] a Private After Hours Bikini Photo Opportunity to a limited number of Show attendees."
Uh, yeah. I don't know what to say about that, other than that scene must have been rather awkward and potentially life-changing.
Moving on.
At this point, Nora Greenwald (aka "Molly Holly" in WWE) was also supposed to be there, but was nowhere to be found.
Knowing that the lines weren't going to get shorter as the day wore on, we finally hopped in line for the main autograph lobby. Fortunately for us, we were right behind a completely dysfunctional family that seems destined to hear the phrase "police action" more than a few times in the next few years. I don't know how we manage to end up next to these sorts of people every time, but we do. Mother to son, it went pretty much like this: "You tell him that if he doesn't get back in line now, I'm not saving his space and he'll have to go to the end!" "YOU TELL HIM!" "I swear, you'll never go to one of these again!" "SHUT UP! I'M TRYING TO SEE WHAT'S GOING ON!" And on it went. For, oh ... let's say an hour. Because they waited. And we waited. Right behind them. Good times.
Here's the scene: as we're in line, to our left was a food stand selling hot dogs, sodas, pop corn ... all sorts of junk food that was perfect for this kind of sugar-craving crowd. On the right, people passing back and forth from the main lobby area to the other wings of the convention. It was super-busy. And because Nicole and I looked like regular human beings (I specifically wore a red shirt, guessing - correctly - that the majority of the people there would be wearing black t-shirts), most people asked if they could cut through in front of us to get to wherever it was they wanted to go. It was as if I was wearing one of those bright orange "Crossing Guard" straps.
So after a while, it got annoying. Until Mick Foley walked right past us. He was huge ("a bear in a mansuit", Nicole said). They say TV puts 10 pounds on you, but I don't know where it puts them on him. He hasn't missed too many meals since his retirement, I'd say. Just walking to get some food, he drew a crowd. I felt bad, because he was just trying to get something to eat and couldn't get a moment to himself to save his life. To be honest, the first thing I thought was "NOOO! We're going to be in in a moment!" I was afraid he'd be gone a while, and we'd have to wait in the lobby area for him to come back after waiting for so long in the line just to meet him in the first place. Fortunately - so it seemed - he returned in relatively short order.
Then, a couple of minutes later, a couple of security guards decided to part the line where we were too, to let another guest pass through right past us: Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. She looks exactly the same as she did the first time I saw her on TV. Granted, she's always been pancaked in makeup, which I'm sure helps, but wow ... she looked great. She's still got her, uh, memorable features on display. She's allegedly 57, according to IMDB. Good for her.
So as we're about 20 people away from getting in, Mick Foley passes by again and informs everyone that "they're moving me to another room." NOOOO!
All that waiting, and now we had to go do it again? Dammit.
But we were at the front of the line, and we wanted to meet Daniel Baldwin anyway, so we waited it out.
Mickey Dolenz of the Monkees was there, but I had pretty much no interest. His daughter, Ami, who apparently is an actress of some sort, had her own table but nobody interested in buying her autograph. Good thing dad's famous.
Barry Bostwick was there, as was Joe Pantoliano. Armin Shimerman (of "Buffy" and one of the Star Trek shows) was there. Alan Ruck ("Cameron" from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off") was there. Avery Brooks ("Hawk" from "Spencer for Hire") was there, but there was a sign saying that "Mr. Brooks will not pose for photographs". Frank Stallone. 'Nuff said.
We headed over to the tables on the far wall; there was Brigitte Nielsen, looking kinda scary but less so than I expected. To their left, Daniel and Stephen Baldwin. Stephen had more people lined up to see him, and he seemed kind of goofy, but we finally got to Detective Beau Felton himself, Daniel, and he didn't disappoint. I think Nicole and I were about the only people there who wanted to meet him because he was on the amazing "Homicide: Life on the Street" rather than "Celebrity Rehab." Nicole took the lead and told him how much we loved the show, and he spent five or ten minutes with us talking about how much he enjoyed it, and how he was trying to get a role on Homicide writer Paul Attanasio's new show, "Courtroom K". He was a truly gracious man, very pleasant to speak to. I hope he conquers whatever personal problems he has, because I'd love to see him do something else interesting.
We continued down the line to see what else was going on. Katey Sagal was there, but she wanted $25/$20 for autographs and photos with her. Nope. $25 for an autograph is harsh enough sometimes, but if you're into meeting someone and admire someone's body of work, I understand the lure. I fell victim to it several times, actually.
But to charge that much just to take a picture with someone? That seems so wrong. I just don't dig that scene. Maybe if the money was going to charity or something, but ... I don't know. Katey Sagal?
And to her left, The Bionic Woman, Lindsay Wagner. Eh. I took a pass just because I wasn't terribly interested.
So we left to find Mick Foley again. We thought we'd try the room that the other wrestlers were in and hit paydirt immediately. His table was sort of blocked off by someone else's line, so we scooted right up as soon as I saw an opening. Rather than saying something completely stupid, I went with "Nice to meet you" and "Thanks!" and went on my way. I got my first-edition copy of "Have a Nice Day!" signed, picked up an autographed Cactus Jack photo for Noah, and had Nicole take this awesome photo for me:
Looking over to his right, I saw that Nora Greenwald had arrived, so I went to her table as well. She looks really skinny these days, barely recognizable as the former "Molly Holly". She was very pleasant as well. But she signed her name as "Molly", which is weird, because that's not even her real name.
I don't know.
Anyway, we finally left about 5 hours after we got there, having spent more time and money than we expected, and despite the unusual crowd and the long lines, it's kind of nice to know that October's just a few months away.
I can't wait to see who they line up for the next one!
Nicole and I were excited to go to the Chiller Theater convention at the Parsippany Hilton hotel. If you go back a while in the blog archive (it shouldn't take long, given my lack of updates), you'll find the story of how we discovered the convention - by landing smack-dab in the middle of it by accident, the first night we spent as official residents of New Jersey. They apparently have conventions every six months or so (the next one is in October), so I was practically counting down the days in anticipation of being able to attend as a paying visitor.
I ordered advance tickets, given that they were a couple of bucks less than they would have been at the door, and I didn't want to have to wait in a line anyway. I figured with tickets in hand, we'd get there early-ish and blow through in maybe two hours. I couldn't have been further from reality with that assumption.
Just to be safe, I took out what I thought would be way too much money to need, but since one never knows what variety of awesome might happen upon us at an event like this, better safe than sorry. As it turns out, this was a good idea.
We walked through the main entrance of the hotel, only to find that the ticket-for-wristband exchange was through the building, at the rear entrance. Past the main signing area. Past two of the three wings of the hotel's first floor also being used for the convention. Past literally THOUSANDS of people milling about.
We got our wristbands, though, and didn't have to wait in the predictably growing day-of-show purchasers. Then we headed back in, thinking we'd jump into the line for the main signing area because, according to the convention program, that's were Mick Foley and Daniel Baldwin (our respective reasons for attending the convention in the first place) were supposed to be signing. A big guy in a too-tight shirt (one of MANY we saw that day, by the way) was waving people toward the wall, explaining that fire marshals were in the building monitoring how many people were in particular areas, and that if any area got too overcrowded, the marshals would shut down the show, evacuate the place, and let people in a bit at a time. With so many people there, and with the possibility of nerd/misfit anarchy running rampant, I have to commend the staff for the thankless job they actually did. But, as a result, the line we thought was going to lead us to Messrs. Foley and Baldwin actually stretched much further than we though, as we inadvertently tried to bisect the line by jumping in it at the wrong point. Nobody took exception, though, because everyone who just arrived at the convention did the same thing.
So we didn't know what to do, or where to start.
Seeing a sign pointing to one of the other first floor wings with guests, we headed down to see Jason Mewes (Jay), Marilyn Ghigliotti (Veronica, Dante's Girlfriend), and Brian O'Halloran (Dante) from "Clerks".
First of all, where was Jeff Anderson? I want Randall, dammit!
Anyway, as opposed to the main signing area, there was virtually nobody in their room when we went in - which makes it really awkward when you look at what the "stars" are charging for autographs and pictures and then decide you're going to pass. I mean, seriously. I'll talk more about the whole fee issue later in the post, but the point here is this: No offense to Marilyn Ghigliotti, who I'm sure is a lovely person, but for anyone who doesn't wipe their ass with twenty dollar bills, is her signature worth $20? $20? And then, if you wanted a photo with her, it was another $20 or $25. I don't remember.
I liked "Clerks". A lot. But spending just south of $50 for a picture and autograph of someone who's known for no other movies and kind of just looks like someone's aunt or neighbor seemed a bit steep. So I passed.
Jay Mewes was charging essentially the same prices. Sorry Noah - I passed. I hope the Mick Foley autograph will partially make up for it ... I just couldn't pull the trigger on this one. Mewes, for the record, had short cropped hair and was starting to sound a little bit like Steve-O. Apparently he's clean these days, and hope it's true, but he didn't seem very "Jay" like - which, frankly, was probably a relief. I wouldn't want to pass on an autograph and have him follow me rubbing his nipples and trying to show me his testicles.
That said, I'm sure he's also a nice guy - I saw a kid with a "Jay" action figure (I think the company that makes the Clerks line calls them "inaction figures", actually) signed. Predictably, the personalized inscription said "Snootchie Bootchie!" What an awful catchphrase.
Maybe next time, Jay ... when I have more disposable income. Not that
paying for all of the other autographs was justifiable either, I
realize, but I suppose you have to pick your battles.
However, Brian O'Halloran. Worth it. $20 got an autograph AND a photo, so I had him sign my "Clerks" soundtrack CD cover, which had been previously signed by Kevin Smith in the mid-90s when he did a Q&A screening of "Mallrats" in Harvard Square at the Brattle Theater. He's a bigger guy than I thought he'd be, somehow, and he was wearing a shirt he apparently stole from Triple H's locker.
Anyway, good guy. I said thanks, and snuck out of the room before Marilyn and Jay could wonder where their money was.
In the next rooms, we came across a bunch of McFarlane toys and a guy whittling away on something new; presumably he works for the company and was peddling his wares. He had some fun Simpsons stuff, some Halo stuff, all sorts of crazy crap I didn't recognize ... but as neat as it was, it's stuff I have no use for personally. I already have so many crazy knick-knacks and weird little toys that this stuff was out of my realm of interest.
Then we came across a couple of graphic artists who had some really
cool stuff. Given that certain brothers of ours might somehow come
across this post at some point, I will not give too many details for
fear of possibly spoiling Christmas. Needless to say, I truly hope
they are not disappointed, because I think what we got them kicks major
ass.
We bought these at the end of our day, after doing a cash
inventory and having a discussion of the merits of possible purchases.
One of the items Nicole bought was for ourselves, though. Rob Granito is an artist who has worked with Warner Brothers studios in the past, and he was selling a painting of Batman villain Scarecrow (it's 20x14, maybe? I'm terrible at estimating sizes). Nicole asked, "out of curiosity, how much is the painting", to which he replied "It's not my usual style, so it's only $100" (the others were in the $300 range, and many had "SOLD" signs on them). To which she replied, "we'll take it!".
The painting to the right now finds itself hanging in our kitchen, menacing anyone who would dare eat a bowl of cereal at the table. (For some reason, the photo came out with a pinkish hue - I'll try to post a better one later.)
We then headed into a second wing of the convention, still not ready to commit to the long line for the main signing area. We had no idea who we'd find when we turned any given corner.
Entering the first room down the hall in this wing, we were greeted - immediately at our right, at the first table in the room - by former wrestler Virgil (better known as a flunky to "The Million Dollar Man" Ted DiBiase. In fact, the banner above him had both of their names on it, leading me to believe that they both do the wrestling convention circuit together with some regularity. If DiBiase had been there, it might have been worth it, but Virgil alone ... well, not quite. My $20 was better spent on another wrestler, below. You'll understand why in a moment.).
Anyway, Virgil's a big dude. Bigger than I thought. He had a table full of photos from various stages in his career, including a glossy "n.W.o." one (no pictures of wrestlers, just the logo) pre-signed by Buff Bagwell and Scott Norton. Given that it isn't 1998, these didn't seem to be selling so well. I'd heard things about Virgil being kind of dickish to fans, but he seemed to be enjoying himself (and when we left the room, he had a little kid in a headlock while taking a picture, so more power to him. The kid had it coming.)
Also in this room were people I'd never heard of (Monique Dupree? Cynthia Gibb?), as well as Cindy Morgan ("Lacey Underall" from "Caddyshack"), Staci Keenan, who used to be on "My Two Dads" (imaginary conversation between the two of us: "So, was working with Paul Reiser as horrible as I imagine it was?" "Oh, much worse. Horribly unfunny. I can't believe I was on that show with that hack."), and William B. Davis from "The X-Files". He looks just as intimidating in real life as he does in the show. He seemed like a nice enough guy, though, judging by how he interacted with the fans at his table (though, once again, I didn't pony up personally).
The next room continued in the tradition of "I can't believe these people are all in the same room at the same time". There were some people I'd never heard of, of course, but Richard Kiel was there. Nicole and I met Mr. Kiel in Las Vegas a couple of years ago (that's where this photo was taken). You may remember him as "Jaws" from the James Bond movies. I can't speak highly enough about how genuinely wonderful he is with his fans. Just a true gentleman in every sense of the word, and if you ever have a chance to meet him, there's no way you'll think anything other than that of him. Lou Ferrigno was in there, too. He's still all muscle. I can't believe that I'm technically the same species as he is. I almost plunked down for him ... of all my "maybe I should have" moments, in retrospect, he's number one on the list. Maybe next time.
Superstar Billy Graham - the guy who had his "look" stolen by Hulk Hogan, Jesse Ventura, Scott Steiner, among many others - was there, and he looked pretty good despite his frail physical conditions (Hip replacement, repercussions of steroids, etc.). There were a couple of b-movie (c-movie?) actresses (I recognized Tiffany Shepis from several Troma productions, for instance).
But then, in the corner of the room, in a somewhat awkward moment given that I was at the convention with my own beautiful wife - TNA Knockout Gail Kim.
Now, Nicole is a wrestling fan (in passing, at least) because I've essentially forced her to be, but even she knows that Gail Kim being released by WWE was a big mistake because the woman busts her ass in the ring and is a great performer. A statement I obviously agree with.
But man, oh man ... talk about easy on the eyes. Whooaah, baby. So even though I knew I was essentially wasting my money, I got a signature and a Polaroid with her because ... well. Damn. She's actually kind of tiny, and she's got big fake boobs, and she was wearing a glorified nighty of some sort. At least, that's the way I'm going to remember it. Sitting next to her was Christy Hemme, whom I also almost got a picture with. Her hair's gonna fall out from all of the dying, and she wanted $40 for an autographed Playboy magazine.
The two of them were working with one guy - some sort of handler, I suppose - and they both had the same style of sign/cost sheet, so it would seem the two work together on the convention circuit regularly.
That said, a quick sidebar: Searching for information about other similar conventions (and no matter how much I swear to you I wasn't looking for this site in particular, there's no way you're going to believe me), I came across this link, which indicates that Hemme and Kim, at the Steel City Con in 2007, "[offered] a Private After Hours Bikini Photo Opportunity to a limited number of Show attendees."
Uh, yeah. I don't know what to say about that, other than that scene must have been rather awkward and potentially life-changing.
Moving on.
At this point, Nora Greenwald (aka "Molly Holly" in WWE) was also supposed to be there, but was nowhere to be found.
Knowing that the lines weren't going to get shorter as the day wore on, we finally hopped in line for the main autograph lobby. Fortunately for us, we were right behind a completely dysfunctional family that seems destined to hear the phrase "police action" more than a few times in the next few years. I don't know how we manage to end up next to these sorts of people every time, but we do. Mother to son, it went pretty much like this: "You tell him that if he doesn't get back in line now, I'm not saving his space and he'll have to go to the end!" "YOU TELL HIM!" "I swear, you'll never go to one of these again!" "SHUT UP! I'M TRYING TO SEE WHAT'S GOING ON!" And on it went. For, oh ... let's say an hour. Because they waited. And we waited. Right behind them. Good times.
Here's the scene: as we're in line, to our left was a food stand selling hot dogs, sodas, pop corn ... all sorts of junk food that was perfect for this kind of sugar-craving crowd. On the right, people passing back and forth from the main lobby area to the other wings of the convention. It was super-busy. And because Nicole and I looked like regular human beings (I specifically wore a red shirt, guessing - correctly - that the majority of the people there would be wearing black t-shirts), most people asked if they could cut through in front of us to get to wherever it was they wanted to go. It was as if I was wearing one of those bright orange "Crossing Guard" straps.
So after a while, it got annoying. Until Mick Foley walked right past us. He was huge ("a bear in a mansuit", Nicole said). They say TV puts 10 pounds on you, but I don't know where it puts them on him. He hasn't missed too many meals since his retirement, I'd say. Just walking to get some food, he drew a crowd. I felt bad, because he was just trying to get something to eat and couldn't get a moment to himself to save his life. To be honest, the first thing I thought was "NOOO! We're going to be in in a moment!" I was afraid he'd be gone a while, and we'd have to wait in the lobby area for him to come back after waiting for so long in the line just to meet him in the first place. Fortunately - so it seemed - he returned in relatively short order.
Then, a couple of minutes later, a couple of security guards decided to part the line where we were too, to let another guest pass through right past us: Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. She looks exactly the same as she did the first time I saw her on TV. Granted, she's always been pancaked in makeup, which I'm sure helps, but wow ... she looked great. She's still got her, uh, memorable features on display. She's allegedly 57, according to IMDB. Good for her.
So as we're about 20 people away from getting in, Mick Foley passes by again and informs everyone that "they're moving me to another room." NOOOO!
All that waiting, and now we had to go do it again? Dammit.
But we were at the front of the line, and we wanted to meet Daniel Baldwin anyway, so we waited it out.
Mickey Dolenz of the Monkees was there, but I had pretty much no interest. His daughter, Ami, who apparently is an actress of some sort, had her own table but nobody interested in buying her autograph. Good thing dad's famous.
Barry Bostwick was there, as was Joe Pantoliano. Armin Shimerman (of "Buffy" and one of the Star Trek shows) was there. Alan Ruck ("Cameron" from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off") was there. Avery Brooks ("Hawk" from "Spencer for Hire") was there, but there was a sign saying that "Mr. Brooks will not pose for photographs". Frank Stallone. 'Nuff said.
We headed over to the tables on the far wall; there was Brigitte Nielsen, looking kinda scary but less so than I expected. To their left, Daniel and Stephen Baldwin. Stephen had more people lined up to see him, and he seemed kind of goofy, but we finally got to Detective Beau Felton himself, Daniel, and he didn't disappoint. I think Nicole and I were about the only people there who wanted to meet him because he was on the amazing "Homicide: Life on the Street" rather than "Celebrity Rehab." Nicole took the lead and told him how much we loved the show, and he spent five or ten minutes with us talking about how much he enjoyed it, and how he was trying to get a role on Homicide writer Paul Attanasio's new show, "Courtroom K". He was a truly gracious man, very pleasant to speak to. I hope he conquers whatever personal problems he has, because I'd love to see him do something else interesting.
We continued down the line to see what else was going on. Katey Sagal was there, but she wanted $25/$20 for autographs and photos with her. Nope. $25 for an autograph is harsh enough sometimes, but if you're into meeting someone and admire someone's body of work, I understand the lure. I fell victim to it several times, actually.
But to charge that much just to take a picture with someone? That seems so wrong. I just don't dig that scene. Maybe if the money was going to charity or something, but ... I don't know. Katey Sagal?
And to her left, The Bionic Woman, Lindsay Wagner. Eh. I took a pass just because I wasn't terribly interested.
So we left to find Mick Foley again. We thought we'd try the room that the other wrestlers were in and hit paydirt immediately. His table was sort of blocked off by someone else's line, so we scooted right up as soon as I saw an opening. Rather than saying something completely stupid, I went with "Nice to meet you" and "Thanks!" and went on my way. I got my first-edition copy of "Have a Nice Day!" signed, picked up an autographed Cactus Jack photo for Noah, and had Nicole take this awesome photo for me:
Looking over to his right, I saw that Nora Greenwald had arrived, so I went to her table as well. She looks really skinny these days, barely recognizable as the former "Molly Holly". She was very pleasant as well. But she signed her name as "Molly", which is weird, because that's not even her real name.
I don't know.
Anyway, we finally left about 5 hours after we got there, having spent more time and money than we expected, and despite the unusual crowd and the long lines, it's kind of nice to know that October's just a few months away.
I can't wait to see who they line up for the next one!
1 comment:
Nice guide thank you!/ I love it! very creative! That's actually really cool Thanks.
Chiller
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