Fandom

Originally posted on www.cbtheatre.org

As we approach opening night there’s another picture beginning to emerge: that of our audience.

I deeply regret that the previous two years this show has performed in Chicago I didn’t carve out the time to see it. There are any number of (quite reasonable) excuses: I was busy with school, I spent a couple of weeks with my family in Texas over the holiday, etc. As I peek at Facebook and Twitter for mentions of the show I’m seeing more and more people making plans to see us. We’re mentioned by folks who saw it last year, and the year before, and (in some cases) its first few years of life before it came to Chicago. But it’s heartwarming to see several mentions by people first discovering us - both incredulous and excited – by what it is we’re doing. Go ahead, click “Join the Conversation” on the Twitter feed to the right of this screen to see what I’m talking about.

You’ll see the fandom is intense. As a lifelong sci-fi fan myself I’m aware of just how deeply being a fan of something can affect a person. In middle and high schools I attended one or two Star Trek conventions a year. I watched the video presentations, blew my allowance at the merchandise tables, stood in line for autographs, took part in trivia contests, and watched the Q&A sessions with cast members. I wore a pullover with a silkscreen that vaguely resembled a Next Gen uniform while standing next to a band of Klingons who looked like they just stepped off of a movie set. I ate from a food court that included on its menu a “Kling On A Stick.” It was tasty.

Mostly I was struck by the sheer variety of people who happen to be fans of Star Trek, or even science-fiction as a genre. The trope I grew up with was that Trek fans were basement dwellers devoid of social skills, job skills, or any sort of ambition. Indeed, there is a classic Saturday Night Live bit starring William Shatner which is just as hilarious as it is a misrepresentation of an average Trekkie. We come from all walks of life, just like any other subset of humanity.

Being fanatical about Star Trek is no different from being fanatical about your favorite writer, physicist, baseball team, vineyard, or ways to cook bacon. Back to that first night of rehearsal, I embarrassed myself by nearly leaping out of my chair with excitement at learning that my very favorite author is a fan of our play and, as such, he may be reading this very blog. Maybe I’ll get to meet him and he’ll see my work as a writer and as an actor and I’ll shake his hand and then maybe explode and die. The same can be said when people touch the hand of their favorite musician at a concert, or bump into their favorite actor on the street, or share a drink with their favorite athlete at a bar.

In a way I’m relieved I didn’t see A Klingon Christmas Carol before this year. If I had seen it in any of its previous productions I would have known more precisely what I was getting into once I was cast. There is a responsibility to the fans that is inherent in being a part of this show. As a cast member I’m joining a much larger community of Star Trek alums who have passed before me to affect the lives of many millions of people worldwide. Being in this play is bearing a portion of that weight, bringing joy to those fans who came to see a production of quality in order to enhance their lives under the guise of every incarnation of both Star Trek and A Christmas Carol. It’s an overwhelming undertaking.

One of the joys I’ve experienced so far is participating in promotional raids around Chicago. A few of us will dress in full costume and makeup and walk around town posing for pictures and passing out bookmarks with the show’s information. We meet people who are vaguely aware of Trek lore and people who are devout devotees. I delight to see faces lit up when they see us, and the light burns brighter when we tell them exactly what it is we’re promoting. We haven’t even taken the stage, and already we’re making people engaged and interested and excited about our existence. It is both humbling and an honor to be a part of such a dynamic, life-enhancing production.

I’m thrilled that the overall landscape of liking “nerdy” things is changing into something more commonly socially acceptable, because the truth is that we Trekkies (or Trekkers, if you prefer) are just as varied as any sampling of any people. We are scientists and doctors. We are artists and humanitarians. We are pilots and podiatrists and archeologists and novelists and musicians entrepreneurs and politicians. We’re aware that there is an implied amount of camp in this franchise we adore, but we embrace that fact along with the rest of the fun, of the imagination, of the science and the potential for scientific advancement, and we also embrace the hope for the enlightened future that Roddenberry first brought us in 1966.

These are all the things I mean when I say “I get to be a Klingon. notlh tonSaw’lij.”