Saturday, October 20, 2007

A Conversation with Chewbacca

Approximately three hours ago, in a galaxy located far far away (Plano, that is), the rebel alliance came to life in a new form.

Ahem... yours truly went to Star Wars Fan Days. That's a-uh, Star Wars Convention.

(please reserve pre-conceived judgments until I truly set up the joke, because there is a joke, or multiple jokes about to be had)

How do I begin to tell you how this went down...

Well, let me just say that I have never in my life actually seen so many people try so hard to replicate fictional characters. And all of these fictional fictional characters (the patrons, mind you) flock together as birds of Star Wars feathers from convention to convention.

I saw many an elaborate outfit. Some are in the photos you see in my slide show. Others I will regretfully take with me to the grave.

The highlight of the experience was getting to meet Kenny Baker & Peter Mayhew.

Kenny Baker is a midget (as is his wife, which you can see in the photo). So he already gets a point. Baker was the person that operated R2D2. Point-Baker. And finally, because Baker (and his wife are British), they had unbelievable accents (not to mention really small hands). Point. Point. Point. Oh, and I kind of hugged them in the picture--which may explain why R2 has a midget-deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.

Peter Mayhew stands 7'3". Prior to being cast as the most infamous Wookie (and only Wookie) in the history of film, Mayhew was a hospital orderly in his native England. (Side note--you think that would freak you out to have such a large and beastly man ask you to take your blood pressure?) Mayhew was featured in a local paper because of the size of his feet (insert joke "you know what they say about a wookie/orderly with large feet?" now), which fell on the desk of George Lucas, who cast him to bring Chewbacca to life.

It costs $20 to ttake your photo with Mayhew--so I opted for just taking a picture OF him. Then I approached and tried to captivate the attention of the man in a way only my inner Larry David could:

ME: Long Day?
(hand extended, his freak wookie hand envelops it and we shake)

MAYHEW: You have no f****** idea.

ME: Huh. So, umm, how many weekends a year do you do this?

MAYHEW: At last count, 35-40. But it feeds the f****** animals and pays the electric bill.

ME: Yes, I assume it does. There must be tons of people that get their photos made with you.

MAYHEW: Ah, yes.

ME: So what's your least and most favorite part?

MAYHEW: Least favorite? The f****** airports.

ME: I assume a man of your stature wouldn't enjoy plane rides.

MAYHEW: No, man, it's the f****** airport security. Those blokes don't know what the f*** they're doing. I mean, they tell you to get there 2 hours early and for what? To spend a f****** hour in one f****** line?

ME: Well, sir, it was a pleasure to meet you.

MAYHEW: You too.

ME: Fly safe.

I turn and leave. And as I leave, my head full of expletive laced gravy, I think to myself, "Self--I always wondered what it would be like to have a conversation with Chewbacca. Who knew it would be about airport security and include so many f-bombs."







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