An American Idol Epilogue, Part 2
0 Comments Published by ginny on Tuesday, September 9, 2003 at 2:37 AM.
Section 4: In which I feel right at home at something the organizers called "the freak show." I wonder why?
It was almost time for the competition to start, so we found where they were loading busses to the civic center, where it was being held. (It's only a few blocks away, but across a major street.)
I was quasi-terrified that the people at the door would realize I wasn't Drew Johnson and not let me in, but they didn't, and we got in, found the Storm Troopers assembled (not in costume), and sat down with them. Chad introduced me. (Charmingly, they all promised to lobby to get me the geek vote if I got on the show – like I said, this was a major ego-boost day. Also, one told me I would make a "wicked Seven of Nine," which is just such an incredibly endearingly geeky way of telling me he thought I was hot, because it's so patently untrue.)
It was a wonderful audience. By which I mean it was an audience composed of geeks – of course. I love geek audiences. Love, love, love.
They are far more interactive, vocal, and responsive than any other audience groups I know. They love to participate in ritual repetition (like Rocky Horror), they know all their favorite lines to things, they will speak up and correct people or interact with them, and they applaud everything -- including, here, the previews they were showing before the competition started. (New LoTR preview got lots of applause; New Matrix preview got some loud applause and some loud "Not after the second one, I won't!" jeering.)
And then the competition started. Actually, as far as the actual costumes go, I got more enjoyment out of the ones the audience were wearing – the ones on stage were almost all specific characters, which, while it's cool, is not quite so much my thing as people who are just dressed up in fantastic ways.
Some of them were really quite impressive, though. There was a very complete Alien from Aliens, for example, and a dreadfully cute child Queen Amidala (she had two baby dolls to represent Luke and Leia). There were some very funny ones too – like a group of people dressed up as a PacMan game, and about ten folks in classic monster movie costumes who sang "Summer Lovin'" from Grease -- with Frankenstein and the Bride of Frankenstein as John Travolta and Olivia Newton John.
But the high point, for me, was that when they introduced the hosts of the competition, they turned out to be…….George Takei and Walter Koenig! Sulu! And Chekov! Were hosting! This thing! In the same room as me! Could I be any more excited! (Actually, General Martok from DS9 was a judge, too, which was pretty damn cool.)
And they were wonderful. I knew beforehand that I loved George Takei – he's always seemed cool, and I love his deep voice. But oh, man, I love George Takei! He's so funny! And clever! Walter Koenig was great, too, and really cute, but George Takei was even greater.
He rules at improv – for instance, at one point it fell to Walter Koenig to introduce a little girl dressed up as Princess Mononoke, only about the eighteenth really difficult character name they'd had in a row (also, contestants had hand-written their introductions, so poor Takei and Koenig had to wade through the bad geek-handwriting too – meaning that they stumbled over pretty much every single introduction).
"Contestant 17 is Judy Morner, dressed as Princess Mon….Money….Mana…" he faltered.
George Takei reached over and with great panache took the paper from his hands. "That's Japanese, Walter," he said, in that incredible, superior-sounding deep voice of his. "Let me help you." I don't think I can really convey how incredibly funny this was in person. Just try really hard to imagine Sulu saying it. Very superiorly.
Really, they were just terrific the whole time, and I loved them. I think George Takei should run for president. Sulu for prez! Has a nice ring, doesn't it?
Section 5: In which I once again prove that I have a peculiar combination of conscientiousness and plain stupidity
As the competition wore on, though, it was getting on towards ten o'clock, and I knew I had to be in bed. So when the costumes ended and they broke for judging, I regretfully told Chad and the Storm Troopers that I'd have to leave to go back to my hotel. They tried to convince me to stay for a live midnight Rocky Horror Show, but much though I wanted to, I knew I couldn't. (Besides, I'd seen a picture of the person who was going to play Frank, and she was nothing to write home about, as Franks go.)
Chad and another guy insisted that they had to walk me back, which at the beginning I thought was excessive, but as soon as we got outside, I realized they were completely right – not only was the civic center kind of far away, I once again remembered that Atlanta is vastly confusing, and can, without warning, go from relatively well-lit and prosperous to shadowy and desolate within the space of a block.
And actually, we got kind of lost. I kept insisting, to save face, that we were not lost, and I knew just where we were, but then these three homeless guys approached us.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" one said. "Where y'all goin'?"
"Oh! Just up there – Luckie street," I said brightly.
"No way, baby – Luckie street is that way" he said, pointing. "If ya'll kept on goin' that way [pointing the way we'd been heading] y'all be in the hood." And he shook his head.
"Two white boys and a…..Unh unh unh. I'll be y'all tour guide, take you where you need to go. Good thing I'm nice. Y'all should thank me – I saved y'all lives."
And he did take us a little way up the street. I still maintain that I knew pretty much where we were – by that point we were on the street I'd driven up to get to the hotel. But he may in fact have been right that had we gone the way I'd driven in daylight, we would have been in less than safe territory. Anyway, I gave him a twenty, being as that was all I had, and I'm sure he can use it more than me, whatever his circumstances.
(Chad and Storm Trooper friend, by the way, who are both big, powerful-looking guys – especially Chad -- were pretty unnerved by this walk. They were relatively convinced we nearly got killed. I was not, but this is probably not because I am courageous, but because I am stupid. It is quite possible that I am stupid. Anyway, all turned out for the best, and should the situation arise again, I will ask for detailed directions before setting out anywhere in Atlanta.)
We got back to the hotel at length, and I hugged Chad, and went up to sleep.
Or try to, anyway. As it turned out, I couldn't sleep a wink. I was on a continuous thought cycle that went something like this: "Omigod, I crashed a convention! As the artist of Wonder Woman! Omigod…no, no wait. Go to sleep……..Omigod tomorrow I'm auditioning for Simon Paula and Randy! What if I mess up! What if I don't mess up and I get in! Omigod…no, no wait. Go to sleep….Omigod I wonder if I really just almost got myself killed! Omigod….no, no wait…."
None of those thoughts is conducive to sleep, and I couldn’t shut them off. I forced myself to lie still and drowse as much as I could, trying very hard to think about boring, sleep-things, but I wasn't as well-rested as I would have liked to have been, and by the time the red numerals on the hotel clock glowed five a.m., I knew I couldn't stay in bed one more second. (I was worried about how this would affect my voice – but it also let me know that had I gone to bed at seven p.m., as planned, the situation probably would have been even worse.)
And then it was The Day.
Cheer up, sleepy Jean -- say, what else could it mean? Go to Part 3, Daydream Believer.
Labels: american idol, celebrity, trips, tv
0 Responses to “An American Idol Epilogue, Part 2”
Post a Comment