#SWCO: Day 1

Star Wars!!!

Thursday April 13th, 2017 kicked off the first day of Star Wars' largest nearly annual, community event- Star Wars Celebration. Packed to the brim with exciting panels, radical behind the scenes reveals, intimate conversations, wildly eclectic art, pricey autographs, bold debuts of exclusive clothing, and a hundred other galactic delights- this is not an event any Star Wars fan would want to miss. Boasting a range of packages suited to varying degrees of affordability and a rotating trio of beautiful locations (Anaheim, Orlando, and London), it has unabashedly made itself a staple icon in all the hallowed halls of Geekdom far and wide.

However, for the especially zealous, there is another component. Thursday has long been THE day to go. Their first panel of the entire Celebration is always the high bar starter with the biggest experience attached to it. This year was no different. For weeks we'd been salivating, knowing that the very first panel was the 40th Anniversary panel. The illusive "special guests" were promised, but who knows what that really meant. All I really knew- all any of us knew- was that it was going to be inordinately special. Not to be missed. The catch?

We'd have to spend the night.

That's right. The queue for that panel opened the night before, and thousands of us were in it. They ushered us inside in waves, each of us nervous about the crowd, quietly gnawing fear's audacious anchor - the bottom lip - until it went raw and we were forced into rickety conversation to avoid bleeding out on the spot. We chuckled, we gazed, we theorized. We made idle threats about what they better be doing in there and what we were most certainly gonna do to them if somehow we still hadn't been early enough to make the queue for the live stage. Sure there was the consolation prize of the two live streaming stages to queue up for, but our desire for that was about as hollow as our threats .

Number 1919. 

That was me.

It was approximately 9pm.

The panel itself did not commence until 11am... The following morning.

And so the camp out began. The concrete floor was cold and hard. Not at all suited for anything faintly resembling a decent sleep. But comfort wasn't what I came here for. I was here for a memorable experience. I came to feel. And regardless of who was brave enough or aware enough to admit it- that's what everyone had come for as well. To feel.

So I told comfort to bloody well shag itself and I settled in with my entertainment. Music, a book I was reading for leisure, a novel I was reading for work, a comedy special on Spotify. I gave these things my time and energy, waiting for an irresistible fatigue to seduce me. And that's when the music began. 1am. Mark Daniel, popular Star Wars/Disney host, and DJ Elliot stampeded into our hallowed resignation and wreaked sonic havoc for half an hour. The room was split with a droning cacophony of agitated groans and piqued, pubescent delight. I was of the latter.

I greeted Mark (pleased to be recognized by him), started bopping to the music, and soon found myself swirling in a throbbing dance party amidst storm troopers, Jedi, rabid fans, a breakdancing 9 year old, and- believe it or not- Deadpool.

It was fun.

And over too soon.

I retreated back to my section of concrete, once more the temporary hostage of anticipation. Energy ebbing away, I closed my eyes, and drifted away on the soft tides of music pulsing in my ears out to the deep, moonlit sea of lulling slumber. Hours that felt like minutes sped away from me, and all too soon I was roused. Time to get up. Time to shuffle on and receive our admittance wristbands, then circle back around to queue back up for actual admission. This process, spread across 2,000+ people, took well over an hour. The re-queueing process took over two, but finally, finally we were moving. Out into the main hallway, through the big doors, finally some sunlight. The first we'd seen in nearly 14 hours. Up the escalators, we were herded, excited whispering beginning to pepper the atmosphere. This was it. The special moment was practically upon us!

We entered the room and even seeing it mostly filled did not the daunt the least of us. We were here. And that's all that mattered. We filed in and found our seats, wrists bobbing high to appease our security shepherds with the encircling bands of brightly colored paper, authorizing our access. The warm up began. Mark Daniel and the DJ played with the crowd a little bit. But these moments were a blur. The two people next to me- one young, one old and both from Virginia- informed me that this was their first Celebration ever. I warmly welcomed them, enthused to have gained even more family. 

Our host, Warwick Davis, was introduced. Mark disappeared from the stage. Warwick, eclipsed by the blinding magnanimity of the very event he was set to host, gave his own warm up, before brining Kathleen Kennedy- the current President of Lucasfilm and former right hand to George Lucas for a number of years- onto the stage. She seemed a little stiff, but whether from exhaustion, excitement, or some haunting amalgamation of both, I couldn't tell. And that's when her words began to really resonate.

"... The man who created all of this..."

My feet thudded into the ground, before my brain released a single impulse, hands pounding together furiously, under a stimulus deeper than any physical instinct. I yelled. They yelled. We roared. 

And George Lucas walked on stage.

George. Lucas.

The man solely responsible for my entire path of life. My way of being. The years of my life flashed before my mind's eye. He was here. He was really here! Life was sweeter than caramel glazed fudgesicles rolled in syrup soaked cotton candy, dipped in powdered molasses. But then...

Then they unrolled celebrity after celebrity. Ian McDiarmid. Hayden Christensen. Peter Mayhew. Mark Hamil. Billy Dee Williams. Dave Filoni. Videos from Samuel Jackson and Liam Neeson. And then, something else impossible happened... HARRISON FORD WALKED OUT! 

We were in a near state of delirium. Meanwhile George had remained on stage the whole time. The panel marched on, stories were shared, and intrinsic details about Star Wars were laid bare (like, for example, the fact that George wrote it as a film for 12 year olds). So much good stuff. We were on a journey somewhere, but we didn't know where. Inevitably we wound up (appropriately) at the moment where the late great Carrie Fisher would be honored. George shared. Kathleen shared. And then... 

They brought out Billie Lourd.

Carrie Fisher's one and only daughter.

The one she'd starred alongside in the Star Wars dawning reincarnation- The Force Awakens.

The daughter who had lost her mother two days after Christmas and her grandmother the day after that.

She was an angel in spotlights; a fragile pixie, exposing her innate strength through brazen vulnerability. 

Billie Lourd spoke to us candidly, guided by teleprompter only for sake of not drowning in the volatile waters upon which she bravely walked before us. Her own words led her on. She regaled us with her recitation of Leia's famous speech to Obi-Wan Kenobi in "A New Hope." She bared her heart, and then shyly looked at us. We gave her the applause she earned. Then the lights dimmed and a tribute video to the Princess herself played across the screen. It wasn't until well afterwards that I remarked how glad I was, that they hadn't made the tribute deep and heavy. We may have had our fill of the feels, but Carrie would've hated it. Instead the video was awkward, and sad, and nostalgic, and hilarious, and personal.

She would have loved it, I'm sure.

The lights slowly came on and a single screen rose...

Revealing none other than John Williams himself and the Philharmonic Orchestra. Playing the Princess Leia theme. This is the precise moment my brain went offline. I was too full of emotions. Too happy. I was at the overflow point. Emotions needed to come out. And so I let the music take me. Tears streamed from my eyes. Not, as I was surprised yet pleased to find out, tears of sadness... But of joy.

Star Wars is why I do everything.

Masterfully, he took us on a classical journey through the full versions of the cult classic scores, from the Opening Title, to Duel of the Fates, to Imperial March with many pit stops in between. It was beautiful. And I was complete. And in that completeness... The event was concluded. We filed out, receiving a little gift on the way.

After that, I didn't want to sit in any other panel. We hit the showroom floor and sampled some exhibits, purchased a few items which caught our eye, hunted down the location of Her Universe, checked on a book and then headed out. Why? Because we had to come back in 5 hours to spend the night again. There was another special panel happening tomorrow- The Last Jedi. 

And so that was my first day. That's right. I technically only did one thing. And that was enough. Because sometimes completion is simple, and doesn't require us to work that hard. Merely to fully be in the space we're supposed to be in. Aware. And ready. To feel.

Day 2 fast approaches.

I can hardly wait.

May the Force be with you.

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