Celebration Time, C'mon!

So it's finally been announced.  The big Star Wars Celebration for 2019.  It looks like we're finally headed to Chicago, April 11-15, 2019 at McCormick Place.  Apparently McCormick is the largest convention center in the US.  That sounds like a great opportunity for them to actually make use of the space and maybe make things a bit easier to get into.  Maybe.  We'll see. 

Celebration is a mixed bag for our little group that's been going for quite a few years now.  I personally still have fun, but I go in with very low expectations.  What makes it fun for me is the people I get to interact with, the costumes I get to create and wear, and the moments I get to spend with old and new friends.  What makes is frustrating for me is hanging my hopes on getting into a panel, but not being able to get into it because I didn't camp out all night just to get a ticket.  Or when they accidentally let in a group of people that didn't have wrist bands before they let in the wrist banded people.  Or when they only have ONE entrance open for security for thousands of people who need to all go through a metal detector which results in a line that wraps around the building for hours and hours just to get in. 

I feel like every convention has hiccups along the way, and Celebration has been no exception over the years.  I remember the "this line is capped" signs from Celebration III (my first convention experience ever).  Too many people.  Too small a space.  What are you going to do?  Plan better. 

But they never quite seem to make it to the "plan better" stage. 

One year, they did.  They got it right - or so it felt like they did.  That was when we were in Los Angeles for Celebration IV.  The worst part about that was that none of the hotels were within walking distance of the convention center.  You had to rely on transportation.  However, the convention center felt big, roomy, and there were things to do at all hours of the day and night.  It was easier to get tickets to see what you wanted (like Carrie Fisher's after-hours comedy show; buy your tickets separately on the internet before the event).  The store was a simple walk-in, find what you want, and walk-out.  Plus there were additional mini-store kiosks all over the exhibit hall!  Talk about making it easy to shop (and easy to spend more money).

But I haven't really seen these things return to a Celebration yet.  We seem to be back to the Celebration III ways of "you either stand in line for 5 hours to see George Lucas or you stand in line for 5 hours to go to exclusive store".  If you don't camp out over night, you don't get in to see anything. What makes this all worse is that - honestly - you really don't even have to pay money to be there.  Everything is live-streamed on the internet now, so you can "attend" Celebration without travel or ticket expenses if you so wish.  I realize that's both a good and a bad thing.  I personally wish there'd be at least a slight delay from the panels to the internet stream.  Let us feel like we have some exclusivity since we - you know - kind of paid to be here.

None of these things though keep me from going.  That's probably lack of good sense when I think about it, but I honestly think it's because there's something bigger that I get out of attending an event like this.  I like to look at things.  I like to watch people.  I like to wear my costumes, take pictures of other people's costumes, swap stories, encourage others.  I feel a sense of community at a convention like this.  I don't know if that's normal or not, but it is what it is.  So while some of our group are only thinking about attending a day or two at Celebration Chicago (which I respect and understand given the write-up of insanity that I posted above), I'm still planning on all 5 days.  I never know what this one will be like.  If that day doesn't seem like it'll work out, I'll leave early.  If that day ends up being amazing, then I'll take it home with me, along with a big smile spread across my face and a skip in my step like a five-year-old kid. 

Even through all of the crap that we've dealt with, I'm ready to Celebrate.

In Memory of a Princess

I realize that I've been quiet lately in the light of the events that covered the Star Wars fan blogs, news channels, and internet sites at the tail end of 2016.  I'm not even sure I've adequately discussed my thoughts out-loud regarding these events because my voice stops or my brain stops or my heart just says, "Not yet."  Even as I'm going back and rereading this (because I've been trying to draft this post for over a month now), I don't think I've really said exactly what I felt or thought.  I know, however, that eventually I'll have to say something.  I'll want to say something.  So I wanted to see if I could draft out my idea so that it might eventually become full-fledged words on the screen.  This is that draft, along with some edits, and probably a few more additions before I actually hit "publish".

We lost Carrie Fisher unexpectedly on Tuesday, December 27, 2016.  This came shortly after the news that she had experienced a "cardiac incident" while in-flight from London to Los Angeles the previous Friday.  We didn't expect this.  We heard "stable", and we all had hope.  But that hope was obliterated when we saw the headlines on Tuesday.  Almost as though life wanted to add insult to injury, the very next day we saw the headline that we had lost Carrie's mother, Debbie Reynolds.  One day after her daughter.

My introduction to Carrie came through Star Wars, and over the years, I've been lucky enough to listen to her speak at a few fan conventions including Star Wars Celebrations.  Let's face it - so many of us met this leading lady of sci-fi fantasy the same way.  We fell in love with her through her portrayal of Princess Leia.  Her spunk, her wit, and her charm filled the screen.  Leia was determined, strong-willed, and unwavering.  She was a true hero in the Star Wars saga.

Carrie Fisher herself was a true hero to a lot of causes.  Despite her difficulties with drugs and alcohol throughout her past, she was honest about her addictions, her bipolar disorder, and her depression.  She shared these things with people as a form of education to let people know they were not alone in their struggles.  She was sharp-witted, had a wicked sense of humor, and was full of life on the stage. And through it all, her honesty and genuine heart shown through. 

I am nothing like Carrie Fisher.  I am not a risk-taker.  I have never been addicted to drugs or alcohol.  I have never had bipolar disorder.  My sense of humor is less risqué.  I am not as brutally honest.  She is so unlike who I am at times that it's probably hard for some people to understand why I am so upset by her passing.

However, I think the reason I am so upset is because - despite the fact that I am none of these things - I looked up to her and who she was.  A part of me wanted to be like that.  I looked up to how honest and forthright she was about everything in life.  Carrie Fisher was who she was, and she never apologized for it.  That was just how it was going to be.  You couldn't change it, and you didn't want to.  That must be amazingly freeing - to realize that you are who you are and people shouldn't be allowed to judge us because of who we are.  I wish we could all feel that freedom.

Carrie spoke out for those suffering with bipolar disorder, depression, and all mental illnesses in order to educate others.  She spoke out to help those who were suffering realize they were not alone in their struggles and they were not abnormal because of them.  This specifically resonated with me - having dealt personally with two particularly difficult psychological diagnoses over the years.  Hearing her speak about it in person - to hear her reach out to a crowd, to those who might be hurting or to those who might not understand - brought me to tears one time at a convention in Indianapolis.  (She explained to a child in the audience what "bipolar" meant after he had asked her a question during the Q&A.)  I will never forget that feeling.  It was a complete sense of validation in your hurt coupled with the promise of strength to overcome all of it.  She helped instill that through words alone.  That's amazing.

It's been a tough time for a lot of people.  The world has seemed dark and ugly, and I think a lot of us were just pulling to make it through 2016.  Then more stuff happened, and some people just kept thinking that the turning of a number on the calendar of life would make it better.  But a number is a number - it doesn't change anything except what we make it change.  We are the people who make a difference - even in the darkness, we can still be a beacon of hope.

Even if it's a tiny hope.

Even if it's someone's only hope.

Thank you, Carrie Fisher, for all that you were and all that you always will be - to so many.  May the Force be with you always.