Thursday, February 22

I flew out of DFW airport on Thursday morning without any problems and landed in Los Angeles about noon. It was my third time in three years in LA, but I was headed for my first ever Doctor Who convention. I'd never been to one before, despite having been a fan for two decades.

I took a shuttle to the hotel, and along the way I had a wonderfully refreshing, intellectually stimulating conversation with my only fellow passenger. She and I talked for almost an hour about science fiction fans, and then politics. We agreed on almost everything. I hadn't noticed until then how stifled I felt living in Conservative Texas. Even in the more liberal Dallas, I often get dismayed with Conservative attitudes and laws, but until I was able to talk freely with someone in California, I hadn't realized just how badly I wanted to live in a place where my spirit felt like it was free.

I checked into the hotel and dozed for a while. There were a group of people hanging around in the lobby who just looked like science fiction fans, but I didn't feel confident enough to approach them. I hardly ever interact (at least until then) with my fellow Whovians on line, so I didn't know a soul going into the con.

I ate dinner in the hotel's very expensive restaurant, thinking dark thoughts about meals that cost $15 a piece, then felt more able to walk up to those same people (they never seemed to leave the lobby) afterwards. It turned out they were indeed there for the convention. I introduced myself and we all talked for a while. I got to meet Rhonda and Natasha from Ohio, and Tom and Alryssa Kelly, and several others. Before the con had even started I was beginning to spend money on Doctor Who merchandise, as I bought the Kelly's fanzine The Cat Who Walked Through Time.

I got to meet Dave Owen, Keith Topping, Dave Stone, David J. Howe and Arnold Blumberg for the first time. A trip to the local Denny's was soon organized, as it is evidently a tradition of some sort. I tagged along as best as I could. Leaving the others to go on, I went to change and followed a few minutes later. I got lost on the way there, but eventually found it. We had a wonderful evening. Richard Poser handed out necklaces of colored beads in honor of Mardi Gras. I took four, because they were pretty.

(Any shiny object.)

One of the reasons I hadn't been to any Who cons before this, despite being a die-hard fan, is that I'm an even bigger fan of another show, Earth 2. I have given all my blood, sweat and tears for the past five years to Earth 2 fandom. Not only have I gone to one Earth 2 convention per year, but I've helped put them together and written my own Earth 2 fanzines. It never left any room for Doctor Who.

The only reason I mention this is that, coming off a five-year run of Earth 2 cons, I couldn't help but compare the two fandoms now that I was actually there. I'd been to regular science fiction conventions before, as well as some Star Trek cons and comic book conventions, so I knew what to expect. But my two favorite fandoms are as different as night and day. Earth 2 cons are small (tiny, actually), populated mostly by women, with the general atmosphere of going to someone's backyard for a barbecue. There's not a lot of raucous humor and precious little alcohol. (I know, I know, it must sound so boring. ☺

But Doctor Who conventions are just as bawdy as any other SF con, and I saw more bottles of beer than I could count. I was pleased to see that there were more women there than I expected (the inclusion of Paul McGann into the Whoniverse has something to do with that, I think), but it still seems to be a male-dominated fandom.

We hiked back to the hotel from Denny's, and I started learning subtle differences between British and American culture. David Howe was fascinated by the fact that the blinker lights on all the American cars driving past were permanently on. It took me a moment to work out what he was saying, then I tried (probably not very well) to explain that those were parking lights. When he asked what they were for, I had to admit that I didn't know. I had never thought about them before.

Friday, February 23

Special note: Rather than stopping my narrative 100 times just to say, "and I had a blast!" after every event, please just take it as a given that every single event I attended was a rocking good time. Every attendee I met was pleasant, even when I found myself disagreeing with him or her over something Who-ish. Every single guest I met was superbly pleasant and enthusiastic about the con. (Keith Topping would always grin and ask, "Are ya havin' foon?") And the con staff was outstanding.

Since I still didn't really know anyone, I felt much more comfortable volunteering to help than standing around in the lobby. So after breakfast at Beeps, I ended up helping to erect the metal stands and pegboards for the art show, displaying to one and all exactly how inept I am when it comes to a tool more complicated than a screwdriver. (Yes, a ratchet is more complicated than a screwdriver.)

But I had helped put together the last three conventions I'd been to, including writing and editing two grueling fanzines as fundraisers, and I was tired. Fatigued. I was at Gallifrey One to attend a con, not to put one up. So when we had those art displays up and ready by noon, my volunteering for the weekend was over. I hoofed it over to the dealers' room, which opened at noon, and officially did my part as an American to boost our economy.

Consider: I have been a Whovian for the past 20 years, with nary a TARDIS, watch, clock, T-shirt, sweatshirt, jacket, keychain, bedsheet, or toothbrush which said Doctor Who on it to call my own. I'm a sad fan, and dammit, I wanted some merchandise to go along with it!

I went through that dealers' room like a whirlwind. I had fully expected to stock up on the entire range of Big Finish CD's. I ended up buying only two. There was so much other stuff I wanted. This was my big vacation for the year, the one in which I allow myself to splurge. Boy, howdy, did I.

I bought a watch (sans battery, but it was the best deal I could find), a keychain, several novels that hadn't been shipped to the States (but still no Ancestor Cell or The Burning!), a bag, a sweatshirt, a cap, several photos, a 2001 calendar, and some BBV CD's. Probably some other stuff, too.

Once I was finished storming the dealers' room, I went to see all the artwork that people had brought. It was so gorgeous! I'm a sucker for pretty things (wall hangings, especially), and I wanted about half of what I saw. I toyed with the idea of bidding on some of the artwork, but I got caught up in so much other stuff that I forgot until long after the deadline. Probably just as well, considering how much I spent.

At 3:00 I attended the Rad vs. Trad debate. (I'm a die-hard follower of the BBC novels, so a lot of the programming I chose had to do with the books.) I stuck around for Canon-Fodder at 4:00.

At 5:00 I made sure I was back in Picadilly for my first ever Doctor Who celebrities, Mark Strickson, Sarah Sutton and Bonnie Langford.

I didn't really know what I was going to do for dinner, but I overheard in the elevator that there was spaghetti in the con suite. I asked where it was, and found it to be almost directly under my own room. I ate some spaghetti (and paid, yes) and joined Rhonda in the hallway outside. A few minutes later, I found myself involved in Dave Stone's Five-a-Side Jackanory, quite by happy accident, since the room he was holding it in was right there.

It was the happiest accident of the weekend, as far as I'm concerned. Dave Stone's little exercise, which he hosted with Simon Bucher-Jones, was the event that made me say, "This trip was worth it for this alone!" (And we're only up to Friday night!)

There were about 12 of us. Dave and Simon taped onto the wall pieces of paper with nonsensical, disparate things and said they were all elements of a Doctor Who story they had written that afternoon. The audience members were to take turns asking one question each, and our job was to figure out how all these different elements fit into the story, and what the story was about.

It...was...hilarious. Not the least of which because Dave and Simon really should never be allowed into the same 200-square-foot room at the same time. At one point, clowning around, Simon grabbed Dave, pulled him backward across the table, and kissed him square on the mouth. Our laughter must have been heard throughout the hotel.

We were all trying to figure out what the "Gallifreyan Profit Margin" had to do with a "Clunky 60s Robot" and a "Bavarian Tourist," among other things.

I don't remember all the questions, but I do remember mine. I asked, "Is the Circle of Power in Bavaria?" (Yes, it was.) I asked, "Is the robot trying to enslave the human race?" (Yes, it was.) And I cracked the room up when I asked, "Does the Doctor attempt to stop the robot by boring it to death with a lecture on the Gallifreyan Profit Margin?"

Dave and Simon said, "No, but that's good. We wished we'd done that."

Very, very clever little exercise. If you ever get a chance to attend a Five-a-Side Jackanory (whatever that means) hosted by Dave Stone, be there. You will not regret it.

I went back to Picadilly for the Opening Ceremonies. (Even though the con had already started, they still hadn't been officially opened. Don't ask.) The guests of honor were handed keys to the TARDIS. (And there was a TARDIS by the stage. That's the biggest advantage Doctor Who conventions have over other shows: it's possible to have our life-size space ship beside the stage. Try doing that with the Enterpise. Nyah!)

After the Opening Ceremonies came the costume contest. There were some really great ones, including one Emperor Cartagia who had killed Kenny from South Park.

I stuck around for the game show Doctor Who Wants to Be A Millionaire. No one won!

Saturday, February 24

I began the day at the 10:00 gathering of internet fans who met to talk about Doctor Who on line.

At 11:00, I made sure to attend the Voices of Doom program in Picadilly, as the word Robotech had leaped off the page when I had read the program earlier that morning. Although I haven't had much time for Robotech in the past decade (I can only do so many fan things at a time, you know), it was one of my favorites when I was a teenager, and one of the guests had played Claudia. Talk about an unexpected treat!

The woman in question is Iona Morris, and she is a lovely, lovely woman. She was up on stage with Alistair Lock, and the three other beauties of the convention, Jo Castleton, India Fisher and Lisa Bowerman. They spoke about audio acting and sound effects for an hour. (Special mention must be made of the stories they had to tell about having to enact sex scenes for audio plays – squeaky bedsprings and all.)

When they were finished I headed for the autograph section, where I found that photos of specific people to sign were mostly $15.00 each – far more than I had bargained for. I headed to the hotel's ATM, and found it was out of order.

Well.

I then set out in what was to be the first of three treks to the 7-Eleven a block away. Since it was raining, this meant I either had to tough out the cold weather in my shirt and shorts, or waste precious time to go to my room to change. There were a million things to do every second, and I didn't want to miss any more than I had to.

I slogged to the distant ATM and back, whereupon I bought more photos to be autographed, from Beata Pozniak, Denise Gentile, Marjorie Monaghan, Lisa Bowerman, India Fisher, and Jo Castleton. Iona Morris autographed a photo and a Robotech poster. And, of course, I got autographed photos of Bonnie Langford, Sarah Sutton and Mark Strickson.

Sarah had a nasty cold all weekend long, but still appeared on stage and gave autographs without ever once getting cranky. She's a really, really nice woman, as is Bonnie Langford. I found Mark Strickson to be perfectly charming and considerate to everyone he met.

The three of them appeared on stage at 3:00 PM, followed by Big Finish Productions at 4:00. I honestly don't remember if I stayed for Big Finish. I don't think so, although I don't know why I would have missed another opportunity to see India and Lisa. I do know that I went back to get some of the authors' autographs at this time.

At 5:00, I attended the one-on-one with Justin Richards and Lance Parkin. Since there was so much to discuss and no one had the room at 6:00, we just kept on talking. It turned into a two-hour session. Justin and Lance both patiently fielded questions and explained things about the upcoming BBC books.

The dinner dilemma was again solved by a very, very kind science fiction club who was throwing a "Home Economics" party in their suite, and I'm very sorry to say that I can't find the piece of paper which tells me who they were. They served lasagna, brownies, soda, cake, and all sorts of goodies. It was very good. The sign on the outside of their suite said, "Miss Othmar's class." Being a fan of Peanuts, I was one of the few who recognized the name of Linus's school teacher.

While there, I met Mary Alice Ladd, who had been Emperor Cartagia in the costume contest the night before. At 8:30, we went down to join the looong line for the cabaret.

Every year, Gallifrey One has a Saturday night cabaret. From everyone's conversation, I gathered that they were always tremendous fun. This year promised to be very exciting, as we had Bonnie Langford, who's considered something of a star in England, and rightly so. She's an experienced and professional singer and stage performer, and very talented.

Mary filled me in on what had happened with Dave Stone the previous year. He had evidently tried to tell a joke about cicadas on stage, but was too drunk to finish. The other authors went on stage and carried him off. I had no idea, of course, that this information would come in useful a few minutes later.

How to describe the cabaret? Spectacular just doesn't quite get it. It was beyond spectacular. It was amazing!

Stephen Cole was our MC, looking very dapper in a tux. The man can sing quite well. He and the authors all sang a song which I don't remember.

Dave Stone tried to continue the cicada joke from the previous year. He got carried off again. Sarah Sutton recited a complex poem. Justin Richards and Peter Anghelides showed what it takes to run an intergalactic insurance agency. Simon Bucher-Jones proved that he can't sing, then got carried off the stage when he tried to continue the cicada joke. Mark Strickson gave a cooking class. Alistair Lock gave a performance as a sadistic schoolmaster.

I had to keep myself from drooling when Jo Castleton came out in tight leather and performed a Doctor Who filk based on the Shania Twain song "That Don't Impress Me, Much." Damn, that woman is talented! And beautiful! And a great dancer! And then she came out two skits later with Nigel Fairs – and they were both dressed in skirts. She sang a cute song called "Who is Doctor Who?" Fantastic.

And at the last – Bonnie. She came down the center aisle in an outfit throwing glittery light everywhere and gave us a concert.

You just had to be there.

Because flash photography wasn't allowed, I didn't get any photos of this event. (I had basically put away my camera late that afternoon.) I look at the program now and I don't remember seeing some of the skits listed. But they were all wonderful, so I can tell you that my memory loss is due to my brain being overloaded with Jo and Bonnie rather than any lack of quality on the part of the performers.

Basically, Gallifrey One is more than a convention, it's a party. It's one huge, rocking party. If it's like that every year, then I now know where I'll be every February.

And the night wasn't over! After the cabaret was the dance, which I hear lasted until 4:00 AM. I gave up long before that, as I was just about dead on my feet by this time.

Sunday, February 25

I slept in. I couldn't help it. I would have liked to go to the brunch, but it was sold out by the time I got my money in. I would have liked to go on the 5:00 AM hike into the Los Angeles hillsides, but since I went to bed somewhere around 1:30 AM, that was not an option. There was also a special presentation pencilled in at the last moment for Sunday morning around 10:30. I honestly don't remember what it was, I just remember that it sounded really neat. I missed that, too.

So I didn't stumble out of my room until about noon. I missed the 11:00 AM Restoration Team panel, which I had wanted to go to. I headed for the Alternate Realities in Doctor Who panel at 12:00 and got some more autographs. Someone told me later that Philip Segal showed up, but I was never aware of it.

At 1:00, I attended a one-on-one with (you guessed it) Jo Castleton, India Fisher and Lisa Bowerman. (My favorite question from the audience: "What are your long-term career aspirations that don't involve Paul McGann?")

At 2:00 I got some more autographs (and I must have gotten some lunch in there somewhere). At 3:00, I attended the Doctor Who Books: A Fannish Roundup. I caught the final part of Mark, Bonnie and Sarah's last session around 4:30, and I would have attended Paul Cornell's short class on the rules of cricket, but since we weren't playing the next day due to the weather, there wasn't any point.

We all piled into Picadilly and saw a variety of promotional tapes. One was part of the pilot for The Tick, a new show coming this Fall. It was hysterical! I laughed so hard. Another promo was from a group of fans who were using digital animation to recreate Doctor Who's missing episodes! Still another promo was from BBV's Do You Have a Licence to Save This Planet?, starring Sylvester McCoy. It was grand.

Then we had Closing Ceremonies, where Sarah Sutton was handed her TARDIS key (she had missed getting it during Opening Ceremonies due to her illness). All the guests came up to say good-bye in their respective groups. Bonnie Langford was awarded a check for over $3,000.00, the money having been raised by the charity auction.

And even though I had never been to Gallifrey One before, and was not a part of its history, I was pleased to be able to witness something which even I knew about: the paying off of the bonds. As of this year, Gallifrey One is now free of that burden.

After that, I hung around the lobby, seeing if anyone else wanted dinner. No one was interested, as it was clearly sitting-around-the-lobby time. So I ate alone in the restaurant because I was starving. As I was finishing, Rhonda came in. I sat with her, and we ended up talking for about five hours or so. (And as we were talking, Keith Topping once again asked, "Are ya havin' foon?" And I could tell he meant it. If I had said no, I get the impression he would have slapped me upside the head until I promised to have a good time. Goodness, he is such a nice man!)

I finally went to bed some time that morning.

Monday, February 26

I wanted to do some sightseeing in Los Angeles on my final day, but no one seemed interested in going where I was going: the Hollywood Walk of Fame. (It was a bit frustrating: when I asked people what they wanted to do, the answer I got the most was, "I don't know.")

I ate breakfast with about six other people, and again tried to see if anyone wanted to go where I was going. Still no takers. After several hours, I was five minutes away from just hailing a taxi and going it alone when in walked Dan Murphy. He was headed that direction with a carload of people. I asked if I could squeeze in. I'm skinny, I said.

Several minutes later, I was on my way to Hollywood Boulevard with Dan and Kathy Murphy, Mary Alice Ladd (whom I had sat next to during the cabaret), and Bret Bowen.

We saw Mann's Chinese Theater, and the concrete where the Star Trek actors had all signed their names. I also saw the concrete where Roy Rogers had signed his name, next to a couple of hoofprints belonging to Trigger. (I am not making this up.) We saw lots of stars (on the sidewalk), visited the shops, and saw Godzilla eating a clock. I guess he was just killing time.

Only after we returned did I realize that I had taken a photo of everything around me except for the people I had gone with! What an error.

Dan and Kathy packed their car and headed for home. I changed into warmer clothing and sought out anyone interested in dinner.

Before I launch into the tale of dinner, I should point out that a few days before, one of the hotel bellboys (who double as van drivers) had mistakenly delivered a van load of con attendees to a Western Sizzlin that was several miles away, rather that to the one which was only a few blocks up the road. At the time, this had been put down to simple incompetence.

This evening, a large group of us went to an IHOP a couple of miles away. Some of us rode in two rental cars, and the rest went in a hotel van.

Well, the van driver (and I can't say that it was the same one who messed up in the earlier episode, as I don't know) refused to take the people in his van to the IHOP the rest of us went to. His reason? It was too far away, outside the five-mile limit (which it wasn't, not by any stretch of the imagination). He instead took them to another IHOP, which was in the same part of town as the Western Sizzlin which the other van load of people had been taken to a few nights previously. This IHOP was twice the distance from the hotel as the one he had claimed was "outside the limit."

So our party was split between two IHOPs. We spent a good half hour wondering where the others were, hoping against hope that their absence didn't mean something really awful, like an accident. Someone called the hotel to ask the driver where he took the rest of our party. He grew impatient and snapped at the woman who had called him, claiming that he had taken them where he had been asked to go.

(Despite all this, we had a reasonably good time at dinner. It wasn't doom and gloom. But it was very, very irksome, especially as we were people who would be scattering the next day to the four corners of the world for another year, at least.)

We finished dinner and headed over to the other IHOP, where the rest of our party was standing on the sidewalk in front of a closed store with the lights turned out! (All IHOPs in America are open 24 hours – except this one, which has to close each night due to a local ordinance.) We squeezed everyone into the two vehicles as best as we could and went back to the hotel, whereupon Tom Kelly had some words for the driver, who refused to hear anything that anyone had to say, interrupted anyone who tried to explain the problem, refused to apologize, and simply said that we'd have to speak with the manager in the morning.

Other than that, dinner was fantastic.

I left the next morning with a lot less money, a lot more stuff, and many wonderful, happy memories. I am already registered for The 13th Floor of Gallifrey One. The brunch for next year was already sold out when I registered, but I'm only #2 on the waiting list. I'm desperately hoping to get into that brunch because one of next year's guests is Nicola Bryant, Goddess of Goddesses...

Douglas Neman,

who now knows how to pronounce Anghelides.