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Where has that Mike Cronis been?! |


Before we dive-in, we wait in line (as usual) for breakfast at about 7:30 at the only open breakfast place there aside from the "we'll rape you financially """"world"""" buffet (just so as long as "world" in quadra-quotes means American and unauthentic in every way)". As we line-in for the 30 minute wait of 9 parties-of-two ahead of us (though, again, 40 tables open inside due to incredibly bad leadership) behold, in front of us was George Takei and his "husband" Brad. Keeping cool, we chatted for about 30 minutes or so, discussing his website, side projects, and Japan (as I had been stationed there, though I mistakenly had told him I was on Hokkaido and not the northernmost part of Honshu near Lake Towada and the Shiriyazaki Lighthouse. Brad asked about how breakfast was at this place, and I admitted it was "meh". Pleasant enough, though we drew a crowd in awe as fans occasionally gushed over him in drooling fashion. This wasn't my first "Takei Encounter". He's quite personable. I tried to get Brad involved but he seemed used to the back-seat (ahem) as it were. I did give a bit of praise here and there for both of various media things, including his fund-raiser of the survivors of the Japanese refugee camps in America that few knew about (I did, though honestly, I think the Japs just slaughtered Americans in Japan, or ate them as sushi. They were rather brutal in WWII. Ask a Korean.)
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Shiriyazaki lighthouse on the northern tip of Honshu. Wild horses spot the landscape. |
We ate breakfast alone, not with George and Brad so they could have some peace. On the way out, I caught Brad's attention and made the metsa-metsa hand signal, which he laughed a bit and agreed. On to Star Trek.

We browed the dealer area again and I bought a tribble for no good reason and we headed to the convention arena seating area. It was huge. I'd say about 400 feet long or so. Impressive size. Assigned "Gold" seating was center aisle, though just 3 feet to the side was general admission so by saving $900 we sat actually in FRONT of the Gold ticket holders (though to the side a tad, which was fine with me). We got to listen to John De Lancie (aka "Q" from Star Trek: Next Generation explain he just finished sailing a ship to Bora-Bora, though he had minimal ability to do so after building is own sailing yacht using sails!) Later, Star Trek: Voyager characters came out and chatted, and a very bouncy and excited with a ton of insane nervous, cheerleader-like energy, Terry Farrell's Jadzia Dax . All having amusing and interesting anecdotes. It's nice to hear these actors (who did these sci-fi shows 25 years ago now!) talk about different adventures. Most haven't done much since, really. Most are surprised of the admiration and adoring. Very few other professions are awarded such attention. You don't see too many rom-com actors getting such love (ironically).

Shatner hadn't heard it because he was formulating an answer but his aide on stage explained what she had said. He was fuming and mouthed her response incredulously. Things were getting bad fast. She had made her strike and it was a killing blow and things were getting dangerously awkward. She had made her point on many levels and it was sticking hard, then, she announced loudly to the crowd and Shatner, "..yeah, but you're all about the SEX!!!" This overjoyed Shatner like a magician's flash-powder to the delight of the 10 thousand audience members and he took the free-out-gift she supplied. Clever, Mulgrew. Very clever.
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Fuck you Capain Kirk |
Before they were done, we knew they were headed to the photo-shoot area so we headed-out a bit early and got about third in-line. Fifteen minutes later they showed up and we were warned not to be able to give the actors any gifts, but I verified I could give Shatner my USAF Space Command patch (one of them, anyway). When it was our turn (it's very quick, in-and-out an affair) I was able to quickly explain to Shatner that in the USAF my choices were often governed by how Captain Kirk would handle things, taking a bolder choice and with more risk and bravery. He was very impressed and indicated he would include me in a speech at Lowell next week.
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I like free stuff! Mike Cronis, you're alright! |


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Fuck you, Mike Cronis. Oh, and thanks for the hundred bucks, bitch. |
Reeling from what had just occurred, I walked away and back to our room as if I had witnessed a 500-car head-on collision with two trains in an epic train-wreck. I started to consider what had transpired. It was my assumption he didn't want to seem the fool in some way and that putting "I am" would have been a joke on his expense, or I suspect that's how he took it. Oddly, and to my benefit, by putting, "Thank You" to Kellerman's "Too hot to handle" arguably creates the same effect. "Too hot to handle... Thank you." Hm. Somehow I had won that transaction and had bested Kirk at his own game, manipulating him to do what I wanted but allowing him to make that choice himself instead of forcing his hand, and I saw that's what Kate had done as well earlier.
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Who da masta? |
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Pool partay at the Rio, girls! Yeah! Frozen slushies! It's a tween par-tay come TRUE! Love the top-40! |
We enjoyed a little gambling and Becky won a good amount of cash to pay for our rooms (as usual, she tends to win pretty well on penny-slots, perhaps it's that Midwest-girl knack). Later, we had tickets to see the Rio's big act, "The Rat Pack" which had impersonators playing the iconic '60s singers (who were in the original and way-better Ocean's Eleven) with Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., Joey Bishop and Dean Martin. We dressed-up a bit for that and pictures were being taken with a vampy Marilyn Monroe. I thought she was taking tickets and she announced, "Oh, you expect me to read?" Amusing. We were told if we wanted floor seats to "take care of Ted" and he'd "fix us up". Becky had asked what that meant and I explained that "Ted" wanted his palm crossed with a few Benjamins for the floor tables up-front. We decline the mobster option of greasing his paw with hard-earned cash and sit in the seats we had bought online months earlier. No one was given even a small table except the dozen floor-sitters (who had to share an average-sized banquet table each). I thought some good scotch was in order before the show started but a Pepsi ended-up being $12 and their best scotch was Johnnie Walker Black. I didn't even ask despite a bottom-shelf scotch was their best and a soda was twelve bucks. Didn't even.
The show was a bit vulgar but pretty good and lasted an hour. Rather pricey for $100 each. The show didn't offer any snacks either so we schlepped up to an Annie's Pretzels right next to the BK Whopper Bar and got some pretzel-wrapped hot-dogs and chips and a drink (total cost for all items, $12) and went back to the room to watch a little pay-per-view and call it a night. We passed some Star Trek clad revelers drinking at a few of the smaller bars in the hotel enroute. I can only assume they had thousands of dollars for the wells the bar was offering. I declined to spend $1000 on a Jack and Coke.
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Marilyn Monroe impersonator at the overpriced Italian restaurant at the Rio, "Maratorano's". Note the lack of patrons. |
It was hard to sleep that night with the thump-thump of the closed pool area, but we managed. Next day was a short one and we got in-line for our Kate Mulgrew photo op. We had bought it online months ago and we tried to sell it to some of the locals but the one girl who said she wanted it kept no-showing when she said she'd pick up the ticket so we got sick of that and decided to just two-for-one get a photo with her. It was at the same time as the Guinness Book of World Records was going to host a "most number of people in a Star Trek costume at one time" event a few doors down so we had to hurry to get in. We got the photo done and I had commented to her that she played Shatner like a fiddle and kept him tamed the whole time. Her eyes sparkled and she quietly told me, "I have to." I understood well. Oh so well. Becky spent a few minutes commenting she liked her new show which made Kate ecstatic.
We raced to the closing doors of The Guinness Book of World Records room and I shoved my foot in the door and demanded they wait! We mashed our way in despite record keepers insisting we couldn't get in, and we were issued numbered cards. Terry Farrell (aka Dax) was excited and bouncing with a given-costume that she was number 1086 (the last one) though I actually was holding a 1087 card. Event officials explained to me, "You do realize why Terry has to be the final card holder, right? I said I did. She was bouncy and excited and screaming as they counted-down the required 10-minute in-the-room exposure. It was crowded but not insane. On-screen, 1086 kept flashing. It annoyed me because Becky got a 687 card (someone had left) and I had a 1087 (I still have it). I wanted to make sure I was counted for this big deal, though the record previously was 1060, so it didn't matter if one or two wasn't there. I just wanted to be counted. I didn't care I was the last one in (actually Becky was, though given an earlier card). To my satisfaction, a news article weeks later noted Terry was 1086 but the final tally was 1087. Win.
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You want nerds? I'll show you nerds. I'm off-frame on the right. |
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Terry Farrel as number 1086 seemingly coked-out and beyond hyper-excited as the countdown reaches zero. |

It was neet seeing all the Star Trek minded folks there. These are a different breed of smart than the Starfests and Comicons I've been to, more intelligent, more mellow, less of a spastic breed. Less exabisionists and freaks, more real-world engineers, scientists, and people that make things work. People that are valuable in society who have a real degree or a real job that's useful on this Earth. People who if died would be needed and missed. People of star-stuff. People with souls. I'm glad to be one of them.
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