I remember the first time I ever met a Rocky Horror cast member. It was at the NYC convention in 1998, held in a dark little torture chamber club. And between the iron cages on stage sat Nell Campbell. There were a few questions from Bill Brennan to start everyone off, and then the microphone was passed around to audience members who had questions.
But sooner than you thought, the audience went silent and just . . . looked. For myself, I was getting a little bored; for as sacrelegious as it may be to some to say, I don't care too much for Nell. Never have, and I don't really see that changing anytime soon. So I looked, thought to myself, "Yes, she looks kind of like Columbia and Ansalong", and left it at that. And in the silence, Bill took the mike and asked "Doesn't anyone have a question for Little Nell Campbell??"
And some did eventually come up with a few. But this was a fan-run con, and a similar thing happened in Allentown when Nell appeared. People were civil, asked questions and so forth.
"Official" cons, however, are a different matter. Where at most cons I have been to, I know (or know of) almost everyone in attendance, there were many people in Las Vegas who I had no knowledge of whatsoever.
The question and answer session began like most at cons . . . the few first questions and then everyone starts thinking of what to ask nervously. Some people should have really thought a little bit harder.
WARNING!!!
Before reading any further, be advised that I am about to get extremely vocal and nasty. (Well, for me anyway)
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You have been warned.
Let's do a little equation.
25 years ago, there were some people who made a movie. A movie that is currently still running in theaters and has changed lives and continues to be popular.
You have three people who were in that movie, including the one who created the damned thing on stage in front of you. One lives in New York, and the other two in London. None of them have time they take out of their average days to sit and have their brains picked. They give you about 20 minutes, while on stage to have a crack, and ask a question or two.
But wait, you think. They're here and I'll never get this chance again! Oh, I can't think of a question to ask them about this movie that I love and have studied, and speaking to them is not enough! Oh, wouldn't all my friends be SOOOOOOOOO jealous if they knew I had elbow sex with Richard right on stage in front of everyone???? All I want is for them to sign my album, even though there won't be any autograph signings and nearly every person in this audience has something to sign, and probably even things that are more rare than the Roxy album I showed Meatloaf! He signed it, I KNOW they'll just be dying to, and to hear my crackhead-nineteen-year-old-pajamas-no-one-else-in-the-audience-but-me-matters-fuck-you-all story!
WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR DAMAGE?!?!?!
To put it gently . . . we don't care! We couldn't care less!! And to make matters worse, this scum-sucking bottom of the fan chain who probably only sees Rocky on Halloween if it's CONVENIENT proceeds to TAKE the microphone from one of the celebrities as they were speaking.
Let's just shove to the wayside the fact that these people are commonly adored by the fanbase. Just assume they're Joe Average on stage with a mike. It's still fucking rude.
I'll calm the bile-spewing for a brief moment to mention that during the question and answer session, some actual questions were asked. And thank you to Bill and whomever else who asked them. Even the drunk one who asked about Richard being a transvestite. (Although now that she's sober, she probably won't remember)
Back to the spewing.
I have seen more polite behavior to umps at the World Series. In a time that was set aside to discover little tidbits and interesting anecdotes, an entire audience of Rocky fans was forced to endure the selfish, demanding little personal requests of a moronic few. Newsflash: This is not something that happens every day. We paid some good money, most likely equal or more to what YOU paid to be here, and we did NOT pay to sit and watch you demand attention and favors like a spoiled child in a candy store.
So tell your little anecdote of your moment of fame. Brag all you like to friends who probably don't care, because if they were REALLY that interested, they would have been with you at the con.
Oh, and a note to you AND your pajamas . . . Meatloaf is the only one out of all of them who was IN that show. You should have saved your time and mobbed Tim Curry instead.
*everything on these pages is merely my usually obnoxious opinion. I do not expect anyone to agree or find any humor or entertainment value in any of them, but if you do, great.