London 2012 Convention

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London 2012 Convention

Postby Eireann » Tue Oct 23, 2012 7:29 pm

Hi everyone!

I don't know if anyone else went to the Five Captains convention in London last weekend?

As I have the memory retention of a goldfish I've started the habit of making a journal of this sort of thing, because otherwise I forget the details over time. Distracted has suggested that some of you might like to read about the con, so I'm going to post it in hope that it will give you some flavour of the occasion.

Please bear in mind that this was never intended to be a comprehensive report on the convention; it's basically an Eireann's eye view of events, and as such it's very personal. You may end up thinking I ought to be certified, but you have been warned. If you want a more objective report, this will not be for you.

The extreme shortage of photos is due to the fact that my smartphone turned out to be a totally-stupidphone as far as photography went. I'll add what I can. Also please bear in mind that I have never attempted anything like this so I hope it will turn out ok. Technology terrifies me. If the photos don't load properly or ... well, whatever. I'm having a go.

It's quite a detailed account, so I've split it into four parts. Here's the first.

STAR TREK LONDON 2012

It was a dull, dry, cool day as we arrived at the ExCel Centre in London.

This was my first Star Trek convention – my first convention of any sort, actually – so I was very nervous. I had a couple of photo shoots booked (Dominic and Connor, I’d have liked more but the budget wouldn’t go there) but it was a very daunting prospect; I’m very shy and I normally avoid crowds, and I could tell from the state of the car park that there were going to be CROWDS here.

Some other attendees were unloading from their car beside us when we found a space, the most noticeable being a surprisingly friendly lady-Borg with unmistakable food-processor whisk attachments on her prosthetic arm. A few jokes flew (‘Resistance is futile, I’ll beat you into submission if I have to’), and we all trooped off to pacify the pay-and-display machine, which might has well have had its instructions written in Romulan for all I could make it work. (Fortunately an obliging American came to my rescue. Kind soul.)

I’d been surprised by how small the conference centre appeared from the outside but soon found out that appearances were deceptive; it was huge – light, airy and well laid out, and teeming with Trek enthusiasts. An astonishing number were in costume; TNG and TOS predominated, with a heavy smattering of Klingons and Vulcans and a decent sprinkling of other assorted aliens (though not, as far as I saw, any Tellarites or Andorians). Some of the costumes were quite marvellous and obviously professionally made, though many of the obviously home-made ones were amazingly well done. Naturally I was on the lookout for any fellow ENT enthusiasts. My denim jacket had ribbon stitched around the shoulders, plus an arm patch and rank pips to mark my affiliation just in case anyone felt like starting up a conversation – nobody did, which I was sorry about, as I’d hoped to have a bit of a chat with fellow nutters! During the course of the day I saw two people wearing ENT coveralls, and one very attractive lady in an ENT MU uniform, but though I tried to make eye contact and smiled they obviously weren’t going to play. Friendliness isn’t compulsory, I dare say!

The site instructions hadn't been particularly informative with regard to the autographs side of the business – it just said that virtual queuing would be in operation during the day, and you had to go and put your name down and keep your eye out for when your number came up. That, it has to be said, was a joke; the queue to see Sir Patrick Stewart was less a queue than a mob. If there was any virtual queuing in operation at all for anything I saw no evidence of it, and that, to my mind, was a serious black mark against the occasion. It could, and should, have been organised better; even using the order of precedence of ticket numbers would have been an improvement (as far as it was possible), but it looked as though the staff had given up even trying to establish any sort of control over the occasion.

Apart from the obviously vital business of getting photographed with Dominic and Connor, the other main business of my day was getting Dominic’s autograph on a 16 x 12 print of the picture I’d had made to illustrate It Takes Two to Tangle. My heart was going like a jack-hammer as I got into the hall and began craning around for the appropriate area, and several million butterflies with a severe attitude problem were holding a convention of their own in my stomach.

Eireann Acquires Target. Eireann plots course. Do not get in the way, You Will Not Survive. Eireann stopped at the gateway, shaking like a leaf, while her sixteen-year-old daughter prodded her in the back and said Look, there he is! As if I needed telling – all three of them were there, Dominic and Anthony side by side, and Connor a small distance away along the same table.

OK, I know, it sounds stupid. But I haven’t been that scared and thrilled for years. You stop remembering how it feels to be that alive.

There wasn’t a virtual queue. There was a real queue, and there were only a couple of people in it; that’s presumably what happens when you get out of bed at five in the morning to make sure you arrive early. I wasn’t ready. I’d thought I’d have time to get composed, to think what to say by whatever time the virtual queue system allocated to me. But it was going to be now, and my capacity for rational thought (let alone rational conversation) deserted me like a clairvoyant rat off the Titanic.

There was a panicking moment of getting the cameras ready; I wanted the moment recorded for posterity, even if I subsequently ended up deleting every image because he laughed, or he was offended, or ... I don’t know, the stupidest things go through your head when you’re that stressed. Anyone with eyes would appreciate the quality of the art, but would he like the concept?

There were a few people in front of me. I had a few moments to look, to convince myself I was really here. Connor was in a white and blue striped shirt; his hair looked darker than I’d expected, and he was wearing heavy-rimmed glasses that made him look like a rather sexy professor. After I’d got over the surprise, I thought they suited him. He spoke to everyone pleasantly, with a smile that seemed genuine enough if a little shy. His build hadn't changed significantly as far as I could tell.

Anthony was in fawn, with a peaked brown cap, and looked strikingly different, mainly due to a fuzz of beard that made him look older. He seemed to be a real live wire, with a flashing smile; he didn’t seem a strongly built as I’d expected given the muscle bulk that the series gave us glimpses of, but he exuded energy and enthusiasm.

Dominic, beside him, was in a faded blue denim jacket with a sage green t-shirt underneath it and a striped scarf around his neck. He wore wire-rimmed spectacles, which I certainly hadn't expected, but they were easy to ignore. My immediate impression of him was that he looked tired. When people weren’t actually speaking to him he looked as though his mind was very far away. His hair was shorter and spiky with gel, and his face had the fuzz factor too (I’d been rather hoping he’d be clean-shaven, but was prepared for the worst; having seen him in Species IV it didn’t come as too great a shock).
My turn. My knees went to jelly. I stepped forward and took the print from its protective carrier. I don’t remember what I said; I was too busy watching his face, and when I put the print down the look of total astonishment was worth fifteen million pounds. I needn’t have worried; he absolutely loved it. I thought Anthony was going to fall over backwards, his eyes were like saucers. And the first thing Dominic did was to pick it up, lean over to his left and bawl out, “Connor, look at THIS!”

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I don’t know if Connor was talking to anybody, I hope he wasn’t, but he looked over straight away and his eyes opened wide in amazement. “Oh, my,” he said. (Ooh, that accent, my heart went pit-a-pat listening to it.) “Oh, look at that. That is just incredible.”

“I wish Linda could see this!” Dominic shouted to him.

I’d had a smaller copy printed for Dominic to keep, just in case he really liked the original, so I fished it out (rather shakily) and handed it over, explaining that it was for him. Anthony picked it up and stared at it, shaking his head and saying how wonderful it was. He looked up at me with a great big smile and said that when he comes to the next one he wanted one of those done for HIM! Dominic didn’t say a lot, but his expression spoke volumes, even discounting wishful thinking on my part.

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He had a silver pen which he said would be the best to use on the dark background, and he wrote my name at the top and slashed his autograph across the bottom.

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Then he looked at it for a bit longer, still seeming incredulous.

“Did you do this?” he asked me, looking up.

Oh, temptation has never dragged at me so hard!

But I was honest. I explained that I write fan fiction, and that I’d had it painted to illustrate one of my favourite stories. He smiled and nodded, and I shook his hand, thanked him and said it was a privilege. And there were other people waiting, so I made my escape and got my breath back, and I felt as though I was walking on air....

TBC! (If this one works, that is!)
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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Cogito » Tue Oct 23, 2012 8:23 pm

What a great story!

There was just one important picture missing from your tale:

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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Distracted » Tue Oct 23, 2012 11:31 pm

An awesome con report, Eireann! I feel like I was there! Thank you!

Is that you in the photo? Love the jacket. :)

I would so love to have seen the expression on Dominic's face.
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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Weeble » Wed Oct 24, 2012 1:02 am

Beautiful artwork young lady!!!!

Congrats on handling the demons and getting the job done.
RIP Tom, I will miss you, as will many others

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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Eireann » Wed Oct 24, 2012 6:24 am

Well, that worked better than I expected, so here's the second installment!

Part 2

Well, back to reality and the teeming crowds, and trying to prevent people from crunching into my precious picture. Which proved so well-nigh impossible that I took it back to the car and put it away for safe-keeping before plunging once more into the bedlam that was Star Trek London; people were still streaming into the exhibition halls, and it was becoming harder and harder to get anywhere at any reasonable speed. The merchandise stalls were, of course, packed to the brim with prospective customers; I was actually surprised that there weren’t more stalls, as this was a prime selling environment (as evidenced by the trade they were doing, the vicious prices notwithstanding).

My daughter had a photo call booked with Sir Patrick Stewart, so we eventually made our way down to the far more crowded area where the Five Captains were mewed up. They were, of course, out of sight, and the discovery that the ‘virtual queuing system’ was a joke decided us to leave her there to wait and take ourselves out of the equation; there must have been at least a hundred people gathered and they certainly didn’t need additional bodies. My husband and I therefore arranged with her where to meet up afterwards and disengaged with some relief.

With time to kill we wandered off down the autograph lanes of less sought-after celebrities. Although I peered and photographed with the best of them, grousing because I had a new fancy Smartphone and I was used to the excellent, simple camera on my old phone (I’d have brought my trusty SLR but didn’t fancy lugging that weight around my neck all day), I slowly became rather uncomfortable with the concept. It felt as if we were treating these people like animals in a zoo. They didn’t have to be there, admittedly, and they were undoubtedly getting handsomely paid for their time, but it had to be horribly invasive all the same. I began to sympathise with Dominic’s abstracted stare; if I’d been in his shoes I’d have snatched every available moment to escape the feeling of being brazenly stared at in a situation where all the norms of ‘staring is rude / aggressive / hostile’ no longer apply.

The merchandise stalls beckoned by way of a means of passing the time, but though I had a reserve to spend on anything that looked particularly appealing there was a severe dearth of ENT related stuff. From trawling the internet I knew the appropriate prices for some of the things, and was in no mood to be taken for an idiot just because I was at a convention. At one stall they were selling goods priced in Euros (worth about 80p against the pound at present, I believe) and charging the same amount in pounds. We watched as three out of a possible four pieces were sold at £25 each, whereupon the trader took the £25 ticket off the remaining item and replaced it with a £30 one. It hardly encouraged me to invest in anything else....

There was one stall where they were selling signed original artwork, and that did command admiration. Unluckily, or perhaps luckily for my credit card, the artist(s) was/were into TOS and I wasn’t tempted to be wicked. Though considering the prices, ‘wicked’ would be somewhat of an understatement.

By the time Jenny emerged from Sir Patrick’s lair (apparently she walked up to him and said ‘I love you’, it’s consoling to think I’m not the only crazy person in our family), it was time for lunch and a leg rest.

When we’d all got our second wind we launched back into the bear-pit, where it was now shuffling room only. The awful experience of the queues for Sir Patrick impelled me to go over to the location for photo-shoot with Connor long before it was due to start, just in case; unsurprisingly, there was no mob (there’s no accounting for tastes, I say, but that’s the way it is) but one or two folk had forgathered so I joined the incipient queue. For one thing, it kept me out of the crowded walkways. Time passed, and at least I was able to make conversation with the pleasant young man in front of me, bewailing the premature demise of the show after only four series and damning The Abomination – all the time-honoured topics of the ENTophile. (Brannon Braga had the effrontery to show up for autograph signings, by the way – I’d have been tempted to give him MY autograph on his nose for that last episode!)

There were finally stirrings of life. The bag-collection people got ready and the butterflies in my stomach came out of their exhausted stupor. And yes, here came the blue and white striped shirt, flanked by large grumpy people in blue ‘CREW’ t-shirts. The butterflies decided it was time for a mass migration, though the arrival of a number of people with passes to get to the front of the queue provided a hiatus in demand for the serious action. But there weren’t very many of them, and they went in and came out again, and then there were just two people in front of me. Ooh, he did look wonderful! “I just want to put him over my shoulder and run off with him,” I whispered to the pleasant young man I’d been chatting to.

“I’d fight you for him,” he whispered back. Much to my surprise. But what the hell, he’d lose anyway.

It was a young lady in first place and as she reached Connor she asked if she could have a hug. And, with a big smile, and a ‘Sure, why not?’, he obliged. Eireann’s plans took an abrupt change. Well, he’d got good long arms....

And indeed he had, and indeed he didn’t mind at all, and they reached delightfully. It was one of those ‘God, You can take me now’ moments, but the Deity was apparently deaf, and the pleasure was all too short. Though at least I got to shake his hand too, and said it was a privilege. I’m sure he’s heard it all a thousand times, but I felt better for saying it, and the photo sort of summed it up. Oh, he was lovely!

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TBC
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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Alelou » Wed Oct 24, 2012 9:51 am

Interrupting this lovely report just to insert this link:

http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainmen ... -1.1189508

My favorite takeaway is that Welsh sounds like Klingon....
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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Distracted » Wed Oct 24, 2012 10:34 am

He is a good hugger, isn't he? Nice picture, Eireann! Love your insights into the celebrity publicity/privacy dilemma. The fellow who wanted to fight you for Connor gave me a chuckle as well. Did he get a hug, too? In my experience Connor's a pretty equal opportunity hugger, though he does seem to hug the ladies with a bit more enthusiasm. :lol:

A Klingon wedding??!! I personally can't think of anything less romantic than pledging to shed blood for my husband to be. :roll: But maybe it's a Scandinavian thing. Klingons are a lot like Vikings used to be.
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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Eireann » Wed Oct 24, 2012 5:11 pm

No, the pleasant young man didn't have the presence of mind to ask for a hug! He told me afterwards he was envious of the one I'd got! 8)

Oh well, on with the account, in case anyone is waiting impatiently...

Part 3

Weariness was setting in, and the crowds were (somehow) getting even thicker. We wandered over to the Klingon Area cafe adjoining, complete with a very large gong and a barbaric throne where we joined a queue to have our photos taken with two very large and obliging Klingons. Their kindness and adeptness with charming a very young child who at first went almost into hysterics when handed over to them was a show in itself, and ended with smiles and applause all round. Then we joined the incipient queue for the photo shoot with Dominic.

Another weary wait, though without conversation to relieve it. This ‘virtual queuing’ lark would have been great if had existed. Still, I was sure the wait would be worth it.

And it was. He’d taken off the denim jacket and the spectacles, and he was slightly smaller than I’d somehow expected (only a tad taller than me), but he’d still got the pectorals, and gosh he was attractive, in spite of the fuzz on his face!

Just as I walked forward for my turn beside him, though, somebody in the Klingon Area next door gave the gong there an almighty whack and poor Dominic almost jumped out of his skin (I nearly said ‘jumped out of his jeans’, but I’d have been so lucky). Me on one side and a loud unexpected noise on the other, he must have thought his last hour had come... politeness forbids that I write exactly what he said, but he was definitely startled. I trust it was the gong that scared him and not my predatory expression. I’m pretty sure it was the gong. Anyway.

Well, he didn’t bolt from his approaching doom. Actually he was really nice, as soon as he’d recovered he threw an arm round my shoulders and said ‘Come here then, sweetheart!’

I genuinely believe he had no idea of the danger he was in. Really. If I’d had a starship and a transporter he’d have been history. The poor, innocent man. He escaped an Awful Fate by a hairsbreadth and he probably still doesn’t have the slightest idea. (Memo to self: arrange to have a starship and transporter on standby as a No. 1 priority for the next convention. Complete with manacles and an unlimited supply of Viagra.)

Drat, drat, drat. There was a queue. Far too many witnesses to Eireann dragging a screaming actor out of the convention centre to have her wicked way with him, and those grumpy people in blue were watching me narrowly, evidently not deceived by my innocent demeanour. I sighed in defeat and relinquished my death-grip on the sexy Mr Keating with the utmost reluctance, my evil schemes abandoned. I’m pretty sure my husband looked slightly surprised (not to mention relieved) when I emerged empty-handed; he'd probably been waiting for the terrified shriek as I pounced on my hapless prey. Don’t waste your sympathy on him, though; if Jolene Blalock had been one of the guests, he’d have been first in her photo-shoot queue. Oh dear, what a shame. She wasn’t.

Floated on Cloud Nine back to the car; adrenaline can only carry you so far before the pain starts to cut in. Husband went to sleep, but there was no way in hell I was going to sleep. Daughter borrowed my mobile phone and groused about the wi-fi connection being lousy – these children and their social networks! I spent the time texting incoherently to various unfortunate correspondents who returned most of the messages saying ‘What?’

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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Alelou » Wed Oct 24, 2012 5:45 pm

LOL. You're scaring me just a little on DK's behalf. I think you need to go write some NC17 fic and get it out of your system...
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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Cogito » Wed Oct 24, 2012 6:26 pm

I'm intrigued by your reference to a budget. I've never been to any of these conferences, but I suppose that I've always assumed that you pay your ten quid or whatever at the door and then wander around in the trekkie equivalent of an all-you-can-eat buffet, queuing up to see whatever part of the event interests you. Is that not how it works?

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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Eireann » Wed Oct 24, 2012 6:53 pm

Alelou, I might even be tempted to do so! I have a somewhat dubious story finished, but I haven't had the nerve to send it to my beta yet (she's taking a holiday from the strain at the moment, I might stun her with it when she comes back). There again, it might send her into a relapse...!

Cogito, that is certainly not how the system works. Your entrance fee gets you into the hall; if you want autographs or photographs you shell out extra, and how much you shell out depends on the importance of the actor. William Shatner would have cost £45 (as best I recall) for a photo shot, I didn't notice how much his autograph cost but it was probably much the same. The other captains were slightly less than that, Connor and Dominic were relatively reasonable at £15 for the photos and the same for the autographs; although it was probably against the rules (it certainly was written up elsewhere that it wasn't allowed), I noticed both of them combining autographs with photo-shots when they were asked to. I believe it was something like £95 to get into the Five Captains' talk (I didn't try, but I heard it was sold out), and there were several of the 'private' sessions during the day that you had to pay for if you wanted to get in. The Keating / Trinneer / Montgomery talk that will be the subject of my last section was free, though I would have paid to get into it if I'd had to. There were free talks from lower-importance people off and on all day. There was a big party starting as we left, and at a guess you had to pay handsomely to get into that too.

Not an experience recommended for the seriously impoverished, though to judge by the number of people wandering around with fistfuls of photographs, quite a lot of people didn't fall into that category!
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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Kevin Thomas Riley » Wed Oct 24, 2012 8:36 pm

Distracted wrote:A Klingon wedding??!! I personally can't think of anything less romantic than pledging to shed blood for my husband to be. :roll: But maybe it's a Scandinavian thing. Klingons are a lot like Vikings used to be.

Hey!

Myself, I consider myself more like a Romulan! :vulcan:

*****

Nice and interesting con reports, Eireann! :)
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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Asso » Wed Oct 24, 2012 8:48 pm

A silly question.
Where does the name Romulans? It is evocative, of course. Rome ... Romulus. However, it brings to believe that its coiners knew something about the Romulans. However, if we look at Star Trek, it doesn't seem that way. The Romulans, it seems to me, are the "distinguished strangers".
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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby lfvoy » Wed Oct 24, 2012 10:08 pm

Cogito wrote:I'm intrigued by your reference to a budget. I've never been to any of these conferences, but I suppose that I've always assumed that you pay your ten quid or whatever at the door and then wander around in the trekkie equivalent of an all-you-can-eat buffet, queuing up to see whatever part of the event interests you. Is that not how it works?


Sometimes, but not usually. Generally the admission price will get you into everything except the headliners' talks, photo sessions and autographs. For the other talks, it's first come first served and you're not necessarily guaranteed a seat (Creation cons are so expensive because they do guarantee seating). If you want to "buy up" you can often do so at the time you get your ticket, but you can also pay at the door...sometimes directly to the celebrity, even. It can be a little awkward but they're great at putting you at ease. :)

You can go budget and have a great time -- this is my usual -- but if you're going for a specific talk/person, there's a chance you might have to buy up. Generally that's announced way ahead of time though.
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Re: London 2012 Convention

Postby Alelou » Thu Oct 25, 2012 1:33 am

I'm looking forward to your story, Eireanne. Although if it's not Trip and T'Pol, I suppose we might have to read it elsewhere? (Do we do Decon for other characters?)

Conventions have gotten so expensive, but I guess we should be glad to keep our favorite actors gainfully employed, even if it's an odd sort of employment that must be kind of strange versus actually having a steady acting gig. It's good that they enjoy each other and seem to not find it too depressing. (I've occasionally wondered just how much alcohol is required.)

The last time I went it was because Ann was going to be there and my son was into Star Trek at the time, but I think he was a little traumatized by all the crazy Trekkies. :lol: At least he had the experience. I figure once every twenty or thirty years is enough, personally, especially since you no longer have to go to cons to get your hands on fanfic.
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