A Fan’s Confession

Published in Activate!, v. 1, 1996

On Saturday of the Grand Slam weekend in Pasadena, a friend (Activate! contributor, Michael Barrow) and I were discussing the process of fan-dom. Our approach was quite intellectual and detached. Our discussion contained at least one reference to a Ph.D. dissertation. We agreed that we enjoy the work of our favorite actors, writers, producers, etc. and are interested in learning about their craft. We wondered aloud, from our lofty perspective, about the inner workings of the minds of those fans for whom the line between actor and character, writer and story, producer and film blurs. We criticized the questions these fans ask actors based on their character’s feelings and motivation, past history, and current activities when they’re not in the story’s view. We debunked the god-like status given to the cast and crew. They’re just people we said, not icons, and we should act accordingly.

Later that evening, I was invited to attend a party hosted by ORACLE, René [Odo] Auberjonois’ fan club. At the party I was introduced to René, Ethan [Neelix] Phillips, and Andrew [Garek] Robinson. I listened to Ethan tell jokes and stories, spoke briefly with René about old televisions shows that he had done, and watched him “rock-out,” dancing with his wife. Then as I had to leave the party, I found myself deeply disappointed that I hadn’t had a chance make my way through the crowd to meet Armin [Quark] Shimmerman before I left. At the end of the evening I giddily described the experience to friends, apparently for a short while losing my detached perspective in favor of genuine star-struck fandom.

The coup-de-grace to my self-image as a cool and removed high-brow came the following morning. There was a small possibility of meeting with Bob Picardo in person before the cast’s appearance at the Grand Slam. I had previously interviewed him over the phone for the Activate! Article on “The ‘Burbs” – but that is yet another story. I awoke hours before I needed to and couldn’t get back to sleep. I was as nervous as a school boy in the throes of his first crush. There were butterflies in my stomach. Would I get the chance? So much for the dispassionate, cognitive study of the actor’s craft and its exemplary execution by Bob. I’m a hopeless fan and can’t escape it. I only hope I can avoid waiting in line for half an hour then asking stupid questions. Oh, what the heck, why not?! Bob, could you tell me, how do you feel about…