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Prize Magazine #10
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THE PRIZE
Newsletter of the Watchers Of CIS
NOVEMBER, 1991
ISSUE #10: DUST IN THE WIND
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NOTES FROM THE EDITOR'S CAGE
A moment of silence, please, for the memory of Freddie Mercury, stolen from us
these three years past.
On a more cheerful note, we've made it back from THE GATHERING, our convention,
in more or less one piece, and ah, the stories we have to tell! Note that I
can't necessarily vouch for the *veracity* of any of these stories, but here
they are anyway.
While I was gone, moreover, it seems that we moved into new quarters (it won't
work, guys, I found you anyway): the New Virtual Hall has been built upon the
Holy Ground of the new SF & Fantasy Media Forum [GO SFMEDIA]. Our sections are
still numbered 12, however, which is some small favor, I suppose.
Courtesy Rules for the New Virtual Hall:
The sword check, as always, is to your right as you enter. Please note the
snappy new Inviso-Metal Detector we've installed to assist the Doorkeeper and
Axewoman in their labours, and respect it as you would them.
The remodeling has left us with some extra room for Virtual Dressing Rooms; keys
to these will now be issued with official Titles. Jumping on the Virtual Brass
Beds in the Virtual Dressing Rooms is strictly forbidden. For the untitled, note
the newly expanded Virtual Green Room, behind the Virtual Dojo; the Virtual
Coffeemaker is yours to use so long as whoever takes the last cup makes more.
The Virtual Soda Machine has also been moved into the Virtual Green Room.
The Virtual Wallpaper was expensive and took the Virtual Duncan Clones much time
to get the tartan pattern aligned correctly; therefore we ask that you take
extreme care not to miss when making additions to the "Attaboy, Adrian!" tally.
Please also note the new "Attaboy, Stan!" tally in the Virtual Laundry Room.
Take care, when feeding miscreants to the Virtual Chickens, not to let the
Virtual Haggis out of the Virtual Chicken Coop, or there will be a conspicuous
hole in the Hogmanay Procession.
Violators of these or any other Courtesy Rules shall be assigned to the tender
mercies of Paul Austim and the Virtual Stables for a period of not less than one
week.
In other news --
May we please have a hearty welcome for our first hardcopy subscriber, Georgia
Foster! Georgia saw my flyers at the convention on Saturday and seized her
chance for enlightenment. Such is her faith in us, moreover, that she's put in
for next year as well; this is, therefore, your official notice to redouble
contribution efforts...
Announcing, also, our second hardcopy subscribers: the people at Filmline
International Highlander. We thought we were sweating about being Watched
before...
We are pleased to announce the elevation of James Burks to the position of
Swordmaster to our Watchers. This is not, however, licence to bring said swords
into the Virtual Hall.
We also have hired on someone to watch over us: Janine Shahinian and her index
cards shall be performing the duties of the Keeper of the Watchers. This should
ease some of the Watcherwatcher and Nanny's burdens.
To inspire us, We have created Melanie Ogle the Muse of Wishful Thinking, and
Barbara Johnson the Muse of Secret Longings.
And, as this is after all our special convention issue, the Goddess Herself
nominates Meilani Paul to the Order of Duncan's Chaperones, for her spirited
defenses of certain parties' honor as outlined herein.
In this issue:
Con Report #1: Cathryn Bauer-Kahn, a mild-mannered court reporter by day, takes
a busman's holiday with her notebooks.
Con Report #2: The Editor tries to piece together her whereabouts across the
time period in question.
Con Report #3: Various musings and memories from our other attendees.
And in keeping with this month's theme, Elaine Nicol provides her log of the
take at the auction held at the convention.
Coming up for December: Mario Azzopardi's Diaries, the 1994 Index, and the
year's master list of our Officers.
-- Samantha Lynn, 73524,43
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"WOMEN, SIR."
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"We oughtta bring something back to bug the stay-behinds with," quoth Helva.
Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh...
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DOORKEEPER'S REPORT
The Highlander Con, October 7-9, 1994
The Regency Hotel, Denver, Colorado
CIS Watcher Attendees: Samantha Lynn, Immortal Goddess; Helva Peters, Head
Hacker; Cathryn Bauer-Kahn, Doorkeeper/Head, Order of Duncan's Chaperones; Kim
Crawford, Watcherwatcher/Keeper of the George; Lynn Fernandez, a.k.a. Cardinal
Fang; Liz P., Watcher of the Ponytail; Peggy Spaulding, Initiate; Gerard Ng,
Initiate; Elaine Nicol, Glasgow resident; Carol J. Schorn, Friend of Watchers;
Constance Coleman, Watcher Associate; Nancy Kling, Watcher Cohort.
"What kind of weird stuff are you people into, anyway?"
Traci Lords as Greta the psychic in THE DARK
"Is this one of those Star Trek things?"
JoAnna, Flight Attendant, United Airlines
"Party hearty!"
Wayne and Garth, paraphrased by Ted Kahn, Doorkeeper Spousal Unit
It is 4:15 at the Regency Hotel in Denver, Colorado. A group of Duncan-
fanciers who have, to date, known each other only online, unites in real-time at
the hotel coffee shop. We know each other instantly. Tables are pushed
together, and we are seated en masse. We exchange horror stories about the
shuttle connection; we learn that we have a preponderance of computer
professionals among us; we reassure ourselves that Kim will be along later this
evening. Cardinal Fang graciously distributes hard copies of Virtual Brazil, a
team effort. Elaine, a guest from Glasgow, pronounces Duncan MacLeod "a good
Presbyterian boy," and admits that she enjoys the occasional helping of haggis.
The Goddess holds up a photo of Sean Connery, posing poolside in a white robe
and, as she delicately phrases it, "showing a lot of leg." Decorum vanishes;
heads turn in our direction; the photo goes around the table. We are a pack.
Friday evening is full of festivity. The Watcher pack disperses, comes
together in various forms, disperses again. The Dealer Room is open, full of
tempting merchandise. I can't resist a photo of Duncan with katana against the
Vancouver skyline. Carol from the dinner table comes up to me and announces the
news: Jim Byrnes has been spotted in the bar! We head off immediately.
It's true. He's sitting there, drinking beer and conversing with a
contemporary. His back is to us; we wait patiently. Finally there is a lull in
the conversation, and we butt in. He turns to us. Whoa -- the camera doesn't
do this guy justice. What a handsome, expressive face he has. He greets us.
Carol tells him she really liked the way he kept us guessing as to whether
Dawson was friend or foe to Duncan. I tell him that I liked the way he brought
out Dawson's fatal innocence which kept him from seeing the evil in Horton.
He replied, "Yes, Dawson's innocence got him into some real trouble." We
ask about his music: will he play onscreen? He doesn't want to give anything
away but, well, yes, he'll play onscreen sometime in the next couple of weeks.
We ask for his autograph and present our Con programs. Sure. Thanks for
coming. (Giggle. Swoon.)
Next, your roving reporter is off to the Video Room, which continuously
shows Highlander episodes and other Adrian Paul cinema. I see a younger, less
expressive AP as a dance instructor/jealous lover in "Murder, She Wrote."
(Adrian, the villain? And a careless one at that!) This is followed by the
European version of the Highlander ep BAND OF BROTHERS, which has seven more
minutes of footage that the U.S. version that we've all seen. CI$ pack members
trickle in and surround me. We are all charmed with the extra seven minutes of
banter between Tessa and Duncan, in which he kids her about being a "kept man"
(she has just begun a new position as museum curator) and tells her he will loll
around the barge all day. Then there is the unforgettable Highlander Blooper
Tape: AP in period costume, discoing on top of a bar while an electrician
labors. Jim Byrnes flailing with his cane at a window that doesn't break.
Elizabeth Gracen (Amanda) looking pensive, then mugging. Charlie and Adrian
getting off the elevator to Adrian's loft -- the door falls on Charlie's head
(he doesn't appear wounded). Jim Byrnes continuing to flail at the window. It
dents, but still doesn't break. AP in tux for a flashback in THE RETURN OF
AMANDA, saying, "It's Bond. James Bond." AP in Native American tribe, finally
managing to mount a pinto pony on the eighth try. Jim Byrnes still laboring at
the window, mouthing obscenities.
After the video viewing, a drink is clearly in order. We head off to the
Lobby Bar on the first floor of the hotel. As one, we stop dead at the smoke
that curls from seemingly everywhere. There is a chorus of "I've got
asthma/respiratory problems/sinus stuff." We end up drinking cream soda in the
hotel room that Peggy, Carol, and Liz are sharing. Peggy and I swap court-
reporting school stories and complaints. Peggy and Carol describe the fanzine,
and the difficulties they've had with acquiring and setting up a table in the
Dealers' Room. We share concern about the heavy-handed manner of the "people
running the Con," a motley crew in purple T-shirts labeled "Staff" on the
sleeve. Liz mentions that she saw one of the Purple-Shirts, a young man who
appeared to be about 19 years old, carrying an unsheathed sword in violation of
Con regulations. On our way back upstairs, we pass a smoke-filled room. A
printed sign on the door reads, "CLOSED MEETING. CON STAFF ONLY." A couple of
Purple-Shirts dash past us and fling the door open. We catch a glimpse of grim-
faced Purple-Shirts tensely puffing cigarettes.
On the way to the elevators, I remark to the Goddess, "Funny how all of us
had something wrong with our lungs. You know, part of the reason I like Duncan
--"
"Besides his Sterling Moral Character --"
"Yes, besides SMC, it's that he's like I always wished I could be. You
know, really strong and swift and able to defend himself."
She understands instantly. "The guys all think we want to sleep with
Duncan, but what we really want is to BE Duncan." Exactly.
It has been a long and exciting evening. Disappointingly, I can hear the
sounds of the freeway below in my 17th-floor hotel room.
_____________________
Saturday morning. Today's the day we meet our heroes: Bill Panzer, Stan
Kirsch, Jim Byrnes, and The Man Himself. The Con Powers have scheduled a
morning autograph session of approximately ninety minutes for the six hundred
con-goers that reportedly swell our ranks. There is a long line into the small
banquet room where Adrian Paul is holding court. I know that all hope of an
autograph is lost, at least for the time being. However, I hover around the
inner sanctum in hope of at least a glance, and I am rewarded.
A kindly Purple-Shirt looks around furtively for his cohorts, sees none,
and says, "I'm really going to get in trouble if they find out about this."
Several of us are allowed to peek through an alternate side door. Cameras snap
and flash. The kindly Purple-Shirt fidgets nervously. Duncan MacLeod's alter
ego is seated on a rostrum, behind a long table. He is resplendent in blue
jeans and a dazzling white shirt. Yes, yes, he's just as handsome in person as
he is on television. He appears to be just as tall as Duncan, but finer-boned
and more slight. I watch as he greets each autograph seeker personally with a
smile and handshake. He is careful to make eye contact with each one. I am too
far away to hear what he's saying.
"Excuse me, excuse me," I hear from behind. I step aside and recognize a
tall woman who can only be Meilani Paul. She joins him behind the table. I
turn away for a moment to pull out my camera. I see the Purple-Shirt fidgeting
nervously and watching for signs of disorder in the line.
Next I hear, "Oh, you really want my autograph, too? Sure. Here you go.
Thanks." The kindly Purple-Shirt gestures us away from the door, reminding us
that Bill Panzer will go onstage in another twenty minutes.
Purple-Shirts guard the doors of the Main Events Room, a.k.a. The
Ballroom, the doors chained and the conventioneers at bay until showtime.
Finally, we are allowed in, filing past the Purple-Shirts who advise us, "No
flash cameras." We file past more Purple-Shirts who are manning a collection of
video equipment. Still others flank the stage, arms folded, surveying the
crowd. The stage is dominated by a large movie screen. Word quickly spreads:
When Adrian Paul heard how many people were turned away from the autograph room,
he agreed to another session at the end of the afternoon. Reportedly he said
that he would remain until everyone who wanted his autograph received one. The
other guests decided to follow suit.
Twenty minutes after the appointed hour, the house lights dim. Krystmas
Tarr, head of the official fan club The Gathering, trudges onstage to introduce
Bill Panzer, executive producer for the series. Panzer, a tall, slender man in
his mid-fifties, is greeted with enthusiasm. He opens his talk by telling us
how the series began. Surprise: the concept was originally suggested by
distributors. He said that his reply was, "But everyone's dead."
Their answer: "So?"
Fortunately for the fans, the studios agreed with the distributors;
several studios, actually. Highlander is owned by several entities, and various
aspects of its productions are farmed out to different organizations. The
music, for example, is mixed by a Korean company.
He gives us word of Highlander III, the movie. He then signaled the
Purple-Shirts and the back of the auditorium to begin showing a video of clips
from the movie. <<Spoilers follow>>. It is good to see Christopher Lambert
swashbuckling again. Mario Van Peebles glowers and stalks in his desert robes,
a gold ring gleaming in his nose. The swordplay is dazzling. We receive a
brief, tantalizing glimpse of the two of them dueling while seemingly dangling
from ropes. Meanwhile, the heroine cowers at a distance, her eyes wide in awe
at their prowess. A question forms in the mind of the Doorkeeper.
Panzer then tells us that we could expect "a full line of Highlander
products" to appear in the near future. For example, a Highlander Video Club is
now being formed, and videos of the episodes will be available in Spring, 1995.
He then asks for questions from the audience. Krystmas again takes the stage
and enumerates the rules: line up at the side of the stage, wait your turn, one
question only, no asking for hugs or handshakes. The Doorkeeper is one of a
dozen Con-goers who jumps to her feet and heads for the question line.
Highlander III release was moved back to February, he says, so that the
film would not get lost among the multitude of December releases. Christopher
Lambert does not appear on the series because of his price tag. It's impossible
to say who his favorite guest immortal is, there were so many who learned
quickly and were great fun to work with. The Purple-Shirt shepherding the line
puts her hand in the middle of the Doorkeeper's back and pushes. I step forward
to the microphone and ask, "Do you anticipate stronger roles for women in the
upcoming episodes and movies?" There is an astonishing burst of applause.
Panzer swallows.
"Well, ah, I think we already have had some very strong roles, that there
have been some examples of girls being very active --"
The Doorkeeper leans forward into the microphone again. "Women, sir."
Another burst of applause. Viva la causa!
"Ah, women." He fidgets. I can't help laughing aloud at his visible
discomfort. "Well, you see, the women can't do the swordfighting stuff like the
men" -- a few scattered groans from the audience -- "and, well, that's one
reason we don't have child immortals, even though we might in the future..." I
have pity on the man and exit the microphone to more surprising applause.
It's lunchtime.
_____________________
The next scheduled event is the joint appearance of Jim Byrnes and Stan Kirsch,
more popularly known as Dawson and Richie. Before they come onstage, we again
hear the rules: no asking for hugs, one uncomplicated question only, etcetera.
They sit in armchairs at opposite ends of the stage. Jim Byrnes is resplendent
in his usual gray. Stan Kirsch looks about 19. He's affable, charming,
occasionally tongue-tied -- and he blushes. They don't have a prepared program,
but immediately invite questions. No, there are no plans to resurrect
"Wiseguy," the series in which Byrnes first became known. He will be playing
his guitar and singing in some of this season's episodes. A female fan asks
about Dawson: Will we learn more about his motivation for joining the Watchers
in upcoming episodes? Yes, but he doesn't want to give any more than that bare
fact away.
"Thank you," says the fan. "And -- you are FIIIIIIIIINE." Amid the
laughter and applause, Byrnes rises after his chair and pretends to follow her.
Stan Kirsch is really 26 years old. The producers "played around with the
idea of Richie being immortal" from the beginning of the series, but it wasn't
really decided until the second season. He has enjoyed most of the guest stars
he's worked with. Joan Jett, despite her carefully contrived public image, was
friendly and cooperative. He did not have sword training prior to the series.
This last bit of information prompted another fan to ask, "So how does it
feel to play with those great big swords?"
As he opens his mouth to reply, Jim Byrnes interjects, "As opposed to that
little one you're always playing with."
And so we learn than Stan Kirsch can, indeed, blush. So can Byrnes.
Finally, everyone stops laughing and the questions can resume.
"What does a Quickening feel like?" More laughter. Another blush from
Stan Kirsch.
Finally he replies, "A Quickening is a very exciting thing. I think I
could use one right now."
Next Jennifer, approximate age 11, takes the mike. "A couple of my
friends and I, well, uh -- we think you're kind of cute!" (Probably someone
dared her to do that.) He laughs and thanks her.
The lights dim and the Purple-Shirts wave us out of the room. There is a
lull of an hour and a half until Adrian Paul's appearance. Carol remarks that
this would have been a good time for a panel. (All of the panels and discussion
groups were scheduled for Sunday afternoon, when most of us would be con-weary
and heading for our respective hills.) Well, it's a good time for a look at the
Dealer Room, a bite to eat, and more conversation.
We arrive back at the Main Events Room for this Main Event, and the line
is snaking around the corridor. A fancily-dressed couple appears, complete with
bouquets, relatives, and an elaborate sword. They were just married in a
private ceremony, with Adrian Paul as best man. The sword, which he signed, was
his gift to them. They look tense and tired. The bride carries a four-year-old
girl who seems about to fall asleep right there. We admire the sword and wish
them the best.
We wait. We talk about our respective cats and the mysterious politics of
the Society for Creative Anachronism. Finally, well after the appointed hour,
the Purple-Shirts get the line moving. By some miracle, the Network of Short,
Asthmatic Watchers snares a row of seats that give us a clear view of the stage.
Eventually, the lights dim. Krystmas Tarr again takes the stage, and we chant
the rules in unison with her under our collective breaths. The lights dim
and....
He's heeeeeere, again resplendent, this time in jeans, boots, and a black
shirt and vest. It's Adrian Paul, the man himself, taking command of the stage,
spurning a seat, graciously acknowledging the standing ovation with outstretched
arms. When it finally dies down, he thanks us for coming and asks for
questions.
He thinks that Duncan knew from the beginning that Richie was a pre-
Immortal. His exercise routine is irregular at the moment, due to the 14-hour
days required during the shooting season. There may be some possibility of
"something in the movie line" after Highlander III -- we'll have to ask Bill
Panzer about that one. Tessa died because Alexandra Vandernoot wanted to leave
the show and, surprisingly, he tells us that a factor was that her death left
Duncan free for more swashbuckling situations if he did not have to concern
himself with her safety.
A young boy takes the mike. His voice rings out: "How old are you
REALLY?" Adrian Paul slaps his forehead and leaps back in mock surprise.
"In Hollywood we have a saying about never working with children and
animals." Then he turns to the questioner and says, "I'm old enough to know
better and young enough not to care." He lunges forward, palms up, toward the
edge of the stage. "Give me five!" The boy complies, and the audience roars.
Patiently he answers question after question. He particularly enjoyed
working on BAND OF BROTHERS. Yes, it was great fun to reunite with Alexandra
Vandernoot on COUNTERFEIT. He doesn't have a favorite guest immortal; nearly
all were pleasant to work with. His least favorite guest immortal, though, was
"the one who had a drink before we filmed the fight scene."
A fan asks, "I'd like to know what Meilani thinks about your love scenes."
"Here," he responds, she can tell you herself," and he hands the mike into
the front row.
Meilani Paul rises gracefully and says, with practiced ease, that this is
television -- make-believe, if you will -- and she knows what they have
together. She sits down to respectful applause.
Finally, the questioners are satisfied. We rush to get in line for the
second autograph session. Ulp, gulp, too late. The line stretches -- and
stretches -- and stretches. Apparently quite a few fans skipped The Appearance
in hopes of getting a prominent place in line. We agree, however, that we have
to try. So we take our places.
After a few moments, a Purple-Shirt comes by and warns us that we may not
get in. Consternation. Again, we agree that we have to give it our best.
The wait wears on. I spot the Purple-Shirt with the sword as he skulks by
and amuse myself by mentally enumerating the grounds for a lawsuit against the
con organizers should an injury occur. The Goddess drops by and informs us that
she and the Cardinal had a place somewhat ahead in line, and, don't worry, he
has definitely said he'll stay. She has some priority, as she will be receiving
an award. I recognize the woman who complimented Jim Byrnes a few bodies behind
us in line. I tell her that I agree, he certainly is fine, and we embark upon a
detailed assessment of said fineness.
The Purple-Shirt returns with glad tidings: Those who are presently
standing in line, if they continue to stand, will receive their audience. A
cheer goes up. We wait.
The line moves forward, and we wait and talk some more. Kim disappears
and returns with cold drinks. Much obliged, Kim.
And we wait, and we talk. Cardinal Fang drops by to show us her
autograph. She tells us that, yes, he is just as gorgeous in person. She had
the presence of mind to ask Bill Panzer, "How do you find the fans?"
"Educated," was his answer.
As the line inches forward, I decide to give Ted a call. There is a phone
bank outside the inner sanctum. I excuse myself and head in the appropriate
direction. Ten steps later, a Purple-Shirt blocks my path.
"Where are you going?" she demands.
"I want to use the phone, " I tell her. "Any problem with that?"
"Oh." She steps aside.
"You know, you staff people really ought to think about the way you come
across."
She doesn't have an answer for that.
Ring, ring, no answer. Ted is probably out renting a Sylvester Stallone
movie and buying fresh shrimp for the cats. As I return to our place in line,
the Goddess materializes. It appears that I have been appointed Celestial
Photographer for the awards ceremony. Yes, the Goddess has brought honor to the
Watchers of CI$. Her design for a script cover was lauded for "its clean
lines." This handsome piece, which features the series title over the edge of a
sword placed horizontally at the top of the page, has adorned three separate
scripts. Her prize, of course, is an autographed script. Viva la Goddess!
There is some delay in the modest proceedings. This enables me to observe the
ever-gracious and sincere guests greeting con-goer after con-goer. [After con-
goer, after con-goer... -- SL] The four gentlemen -- Bill Panzer, Jim Byrnes,
Adrian Paul, and Stan Kirsch -- have been signing for over two and a half hours
at this point. They must certainly be exhausted, but it doesn't show in their
faces or mannerisms.
Back to the line: more waiting, more conversation. The Purple-Shirts
increase in number and self-importance as we approach the inner sanctum. As one
hovers near us, Liz mentions the matter of the unsheathed sword.
Her response was, "Yes, that's a problem, but we have a lot more serious
things to think about right now." I decide that words such as "liability" and
"negligence" will probably mean little in this particular situation.
The line inches forward and lo, we are before the doors. Our pack is
assembled by yet another Purple-Shirt (geez, these people must multiply
spontaneously) and read the usual rules: be quick, no handshakes, no hugs, two
items only may be autographed. She opens the doors to allow us in, then orders
us to line up against the wall. It's not hard to guess what my packmates are
thinking: "(Expletives deleted), but if I say it out loud, they'll kick me out
and I'll never get my autograph."
The four guests are seated on a platform, placed behind a long table. I
see a flash of recognition on Bill Panzer's face as he catches sight of me (oh,
no, there's The Feminist). How on earth do these people manage to look so kind
and friendly, hour after hour? They must have tremendous writer's cramp, at the
very least.
And then I am mounting the steps to the platform, photo and program in
hand. Jim Byrnes is first (yessss). I tell him I was lucky enough to get his
autograph last night.
"Yes, I remember you," he replies.
"You do? I'm impressed." I'm not sure I believe him, but he's very
polite to say so. I move on toward Bill Panzer. I extend my program, receive
an autograph, and thank him. (Is that a sigh of relief I hear?) And then
(drumroll) I am standing in front of Adrian Paul.
He's wearing white again, his hair tied back in the trademark ponytail.
He greets me with a smile, and I lay my picture of Duncan-against-sunny-
Vancouver-skyline on the table in front of him. There are a number of things
I'd like to ask him ("Were you drawing on your experience of the death of Werner
Stocker when Duncan discovered Darius's body?" "Have you explored the
mythological concept of the hero in developing the character?") but it's late
and there are who-knows-how-many-more autograph-seekers behind me. Restraint is
clearly the order of the moment.
I content myself with saying, "I really enjoy you on the series." I am
rewarded with a much wider smile.
"Really? Thank you!" He whips out a gold pen from somewhere or other (an
inviso-pen, no less!) and writes, "Peace, Adrian Paul" across his character's
jacket front. (Major swoon.) I glance over at him as I place my program in
front of Stan Kirsch, and he's smiling at me again. I don't see Duncan smiling
at me. I see a talented, hardworking man who cares tremendously about bringing
pleasure to other people, and feels great satisfaction at being told he has
succeeded.
Stan Kirsch also greets me with a smile and direct eye contact.
"Are you enjoying the con?" he asks me.
"Yes, very much," I tell him. "I also enjoy you as Richie."
He thanks me and double-checks the spelling of my name before writing,
"Love always, XO, Stan Kirsch" across the program.
A few minutes later, the Watcher pack gathers in the hallway to compare
loot. Whew. Everybody's happy and excited. It was definitely worth the wait.
We admire the Goddess's autographed script and ogle the script cover that she
designed. (She should have gotten first prize IMO!) Liz decides to buy the
katana she's been coveting.
The Big Day winds to a close.
_____________________
Sunday morning. I'm in the shower, mulling over ways to get myself a quiet
breakfast, when the telephone rings. Would I like to walk over to Denny's with
the Cardinal and her friend Nancy, to get away from the madding crowd for a bit?
I would indeed. We enjoy a quiet breakfast, talking about cats and careers and
the homeless. Unfortunately, it is cut short. We scuttle back to the Regency
Main Events Room for the scriptwriters' presentation, "The Making of
Highlander." We find that the time has been moved back an hour, and the
presentation itself has been cut from two hours to one. Nancy and the Cardinal
return to the Dealer's Room, and I am pleased to encounter a poverty lawyer with
whom I had some interesting discussion the previous day. We sit outside, talk
some more, and exchange addresses before attending the presentation.
The time cut is particularly unfortunate given the vivacity and
intelligence of the guest writers, Gillian Horvath and Donna Lettow. They are
full of interesting tales and fascinating descriptions of the trials and
tribulations of the television writing process. There's little or no sitting
around waiting for the creative juices to flow. Sometimes stories must be
rewritten quickly if life intervenes. For example, while working on an episode
of "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman", Jane Seymour, who plays the title character, had
a family emergency which necessitated her absence. This called for a "gang
bang," in which three or four writers worked together to produce a revised
script within a short period of time.
Geography presents some complex challenges. The series is largely shot in
Paris and Vancouver. Labor regulations and tax laws make it economical for the
show to hire local as far as extras and crew are concerned. Scripts are
presently accepted from French and Canadian writers only, due to relentless
complications involving unions and labor laws.
We learned that budget constraints were also a frequent challenge. Jim
Byrnes's aforementioned difficulties with the window had to do with the expense
of real glass compared to a substitute. The solution in this case was a barter:
the frontier priest in the episode's flashback approached the camera on foot
instead of on horseback as originally planned (animal actors, with their
handlers, are an expensive item). They also substituted a crowbar, painted
brown, for his character's standard walking stick.
At the end of the appointed hour, the Purple-Shirts shooed us out of the
Main Events Room. Gillian and Donna announced that they would continue
answering questions in the anteroom.
The afternoon features several interesting panels. Our own Liz. P. co-
leads a Darius retrospective. Following this, there is a 'zine workshop I'd
like to attend but, like most Con-goers, I have an afternoon flight.
I see the headline, "Clinton Orders Troops to the Middle East" on the
newsstand as I'm checking out of the Regency.
_____________________
Would I do this again? Well, yes, it was expensive. It was exhausting.
I can't imagine how the featured guests will manage to be this open and warm
toward their fandom again. But, well, maybe if my friends go....
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"BUH, BUH, BUH..."
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The Goddess is concerned to note large gaps in Her recall of the events of 7, 8,
and 9 October, 1994. Nevertheless, a semblance of a convention report appears
below:
THURSDAY
A 25-hour train ride deposits Me in Denver Union Station, which looks entirely
too much like London's St. Mary-Le-Bow church for a self-respecting train
station. Not sure what I was expecting, but I don't think this was it. The hotel
is adequate, or at least I've seen much worse. My room in the tower looks out on
a spaghetti of freeways, Denver, the vast expanse of the Rocky Mountains, and a
swooping peregrine falcon. I do not remember when everyone is arriving, but I
expect I shall find out. A fellow passenger on the hotel shuttle mentions
entering Denny's the previous evening and finding the restaurant filled entirely
with gentlemen in ponytails and trench coats...
Back to the hotel after lunch to meet Helva, who is staying with Us, and Elaine
from Glasgow, who needs to Get A Modem. Elaine expresses her surprise at the
continued lack of a convention schedule... Plans for dinner Friday are relayed,
and we retire for the evening.
FRIDAY
After a night punctuated by an unfortunate incident involving a travel alarm
clock and the Goddess's total lack of time sense, and a day spent exploring this
city I find Myself in, the time for dinner with the Watcher delegation arrives.
Gratified to find them all thinner than they had represented themselves. The
festivities begin at six; there is still no convention schedule. Given the
stories already circulating about the condition of the hotel, this does not
surprise me.
Registration goes well considering the rumor I hear later that the schedule was
drawn up at ten to six. The principals arrive tomorrow. We do our best to amuse
ourselves until then. Jim Byrnes, a last-minute addition to the program, is
already here; I nab him for a photo after his interview with Gary, Elaine's
Scots friend. Repair to the video room with the Doorkeeper and Fang for the
showing of the Blooper Reel; alas, most of the best bits are completely
unprintable. Butterfingered burglars in CROSS OF ST. ANTOINE, breaking props,
unbreakable props, pratfalls, pranks, and flubbed lines galore, but the
prizewinner, we all agree: Duncan, in THE FIGHTER, *tries* to say, "Since when
is a bare-knuckle fight such an emergency?" Unfortunately, what comes *out* is,
"Since when is a bad **** such an emergency?"...
And then, to bed, for tomorrow begins at eight AM.
SATURDAY
We are up bright and early to wait in the line for one of the Main Events: the
autograph session with Adrian. They are half an hour late because Gary is
interviewing him. The line reaches to Siberia and we are stuck by the Makoto
demonstration room, which beeps and bwongs until we are all a little mad. We do,
however, catch a glimpse of Adrian entering the hotel; I think we are officially
at the right place now.
A passing woman looks like she is searching desperately for lost comrades. Her
nametag says "Kim", so I flag her down with a beribboned braid, our Watchers'
agreed recognition signal. It is indeed our Watcher-watcher; delayed at the
airport, she is united with her pack at last.
Get within sight of the autograph room just in time for writer's cramp; amidst
much grumbling we disperse to await the evening session with all the guests.
Sigh. Sneak a few photos of AP over the throng and head up for lunch, and then a
look at the Art Show. Rounding the corner into the dealers' room I am nearly
squashed by a very tall, very handsome man bearing a Goon Squad...
I change directions and start to follow the entourage, but they disappear
through a locked door. Since I am halfway there, I change my mind on the art
show and go to Bill Panzer's presentation. Memorable moments: reconciling the
series with the films? "We took a few liberties."; what's this about a cut of
H2 without Planet Zeist? "Planet what?" *Then*, the Art Show. The cover contest
winners are on display, as promised; I must concede, despite my bias, that the
first prize entry is stunning.
Now there is a question and answer panel with Stan Kirsch and Jim Byrnes,
wherein we discover that Stan is a blusher. And very much cuter than he
photographs. And single. Wondering idly how *Stan* feels about cradle-robbing, I
leave early, for I have to drop something at the room, and discover that *all*
of the elevators are now broken. And we are on the fourteenth floor...
Some time later I find myself waiting in the line for another of the Main
Events: the question and answer session with Adrian. Take a photo of Stan as he
passes. Also get a photo of the couple who were married a short while before;
the groom displays a Dragon Head Katana that the best man, Adrian, has
autographed for them.
Take four rolls of film in the Q&A session, hoping fervently that something
comes out; for, in great contrast to Duncan's serenity, Adrian does not stop
moving *once*. He is either very nervous at being the focus of eight hundred
people's devotions or he has a worse case of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity
Disorder than I do. Unfortunately, I am switching the film as Meilani puts in
her appearance; doubly unfortunate, as she is a yard away from where I crouch
near the foot of the dais. When the session ends we peel rubber down to the line
for the Third Main Event, the Mass Guest Autograph Session. It already stretches
to Siberia; these misguided souls have skipped the panel to wait.
I realize, taking my place in Siberia, that I have a serious problem: I am due
at the awards ceremony at six-thirty, and I still have not gotten in contact
with Gillian Horvath as I am supposed to. It is now fiveish. The hotel is not
the best I have ever seen for messages; I have to leave the line and go to the
front desk to see if anyone needs to get hold of me.
Upon my return from this ultimately fruitless trip, I see Cardinal Fang at the
head of the line. Propriety dictates that I should return to Siberia; however, I
really do have to be somewhere. I join her.
Memory tapes for the next half hour or so are garbled and have an Adrian-shaped
hole burned in the middle. He is too beautiful. I know I was there, for I see
that I have a copy of THE PRIZE #1 signed "To The Goddess," but I cannot recall
what he looks like.
Of Stan, positioned strategically at the end of the assembled celebrities,
perhaps intentionally as a cool-down effect, I have slightly better recall; at
any rate, this is about the time I regain enough of my faculties to explain the
derivation of My title. He laughs. He is really much cuter than the camera gives
him credit for...
I show my prize to the Delegation, all stuck in Siberia, and go to find Krystmas
and Gillian.
Krystmas is in a bit of a panic; the time is approaching for the awarding of the
scripts to the winners of the cover contest, and Adrian, who is insisting he be
in on it, is still downstairs signing autographs. This may not matter, for they
cannot find Beki Weight, the first prize winner. I suggest that we go to him.
Beki turns up in Siberia. On Gillian's suggestion I pull the Doorkeeper from the
line to act as THE PRIZE Staff Photographer for the event.
At this point there is another Adrian-shaped hole in my memory. I do, however,
know that his hands are warm and strong. I believe the swordplay more now, I
think; he has the hands for it.
Wander in circles for a while and finally end up in my room to find my mother
watching LINE OF FIRE on local broadcast. This is the script that I have won. I
will read it later. Since I have missed the first part, I rush downstairs for
the convention's showing. Elaine is with us; she has just seen THE DARKNESS in
Scotland, and she is quite shocked at how far the characters have developed.
I still can't remember what Adrian looks like.
They begin to show the Japanese cut of HIGHLANDER. It is subtitled in Japanese
which is a very peculiar effect. I decide, since I have seen the essentially
identical European version, to investigate the alleged party in the Con Suite
instead. They are showing THE OWL, a failed pilot for something that AP is in,
but I am too tired.
I try to sleep, but my mind will not let me alone. I still can't remember what
Adrian looks like. It is too late; according to the organizers, the guests have
left for Vancouver, for time and filming wait for no con...
SUNDAY
At six-thirty I give up and go down to breakfast, for part of why I can't sleep
is that I have barely remembered to eat since Tuesday. Elaine is already in the
cafe. I have to be at the storytelling at eight, although, judging from last
night, I doubt anyone will be alive to come before noon.
The storytelling goes well, although what possessed me to submit the story with
the lullaby in Gaelic, I'll never know. At the Highlander History panel
afterwards there is a photo session with the original Ramirez Katana, which Gary
has kindly brought; finish up fifth roll of film. I hope these turn out.
I arrive at the "Making Of An Episode" panel, run by Gillian and Donna, in time
to see some most intriguing clips, and then head to the dealer's room, for it is
time to spend my souvenir budget. I don't know what I want. Well, I do know what
I want, but I don't know what I can afford that I want. I drift past the PEACE
table. Bajoran ear-clips? Hm...
From a yard away, I hear a familiar deep baritone voice.
I have nothing to write on, but I do have one roll of film left. And the line
has barely begun to form. This time I will not forget. Does a coronary count as
Violent Death? "Hi -- I've seen you *twice* and I was too stunned to get a good
look at you. May I?"
He smiles for the camera, bigger than the Rockies. I hope these pictures come
out. Another handshake, even, for I get brazen when I am desperate. And I wobble
away, thinking -- he's so *nice*!
One last photo opportunity at the Swordmasters table, and Elvis has left the
building. We manage by ourselves as best we can. I have fifteen cents, so I go
to watch the auction, since I can't get into any trouble. Energies are flagging
and the bidding is limp, although I am pleased to see a script of LINE OF FIRE
knocked down at eighty dollars. Mine has more signatures on it. And, hell, if AP
does ever get Bond -- wouldn't we all love an old Sean Connery autograph right
about now? The plate from CROSS OF ST. ANTOINE, which I get to handle briefly,
is amazingly tacky; film does wonders, I suppose. Elaine buys the photo of Mac
and Tessa that used to grace their apartment.
It strikes me, after dinner, that the Ramirez Katana I was holding is the actual
prop used by Sean Connery in the film. I find this oddly awe-inspiring.
Many of the Watchers have already left. Elaine, Helva, Fang, and I had planned
to get together in the evening, but none of us make it that far. We'll catch
each other in the morning. I would feel sad, that the convention is over, like I
always do; but I am still dazzled by that smile. Saturday was worth the twenty-
five hours on the train from Detroit; that smile was worth the twenty-five hours
on the train back.
Twenty-six, even, when the train ran late.
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GLOATING
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"Oboy! A subsysop! Who's got the mud pies?" -- Bill O'Brien
Here, then, are the rest of our scattered thoughts about our brush with glory:
KIM CRAWFORD -- We're baaaAAAAaaaack! At least, some of us are. The others are
going home tomorrow (Monday). I'm MUCH too tired for a full report now, but
beware of *massive* increases in the scroll rate during the first few days of
next week and everyone gets back. Some quickies:
1) Those guys... Adrian, Stan, Jim... are some of the nicest folks on Earth.
There were LONG lines for autographs (which I got, btw... hehehe) in two
official sessions, but all three wanted to stay until *everyone* in line got
through. They were up, friendly, DRIPPING in SMC... the whole time. Stan was a
BIG hit. Dat boy's growed up! And I think this con converted *alot* of former
Richie-Bashers.
Sorry alla yous returning con-goers, but *I* get to be the first (I think) to
tell the Big Funny about Stan. <EG>. Stan and Jim had a Q&A session together.
They sat onstage and fans could come up to a mike and ask questions. One woman
asked Stan how it felt now that his character was immortal. She said sompin
like (paraphrasing here... maybe others can remember exactly what was said) "I
mean, how does it feel to be up there with the rest of the immortals... getting
to play with those big swords?"
Stan laughed, which made US (the fans) laugh... and while Stan paused to decide
how to answer her, Jim threw in "....as opposed to that little sword you're
always playing with". It was hysterical. BOTH of them (especially Jim) turned
beet red!
2) We are some pretty great folks too! The Watchers of CI$ were well
represented. And, I can't thank Liz P. enough for making *nearly* all of us
(er... the Goddess was accidentally omitted) some FANTASTIC name tags with the
Watcher logo, our names, UIDs, and titles (the untitled were listed as
"Initiates"). They really got us alot of attention. Everywhere folks asked me
about our liddle group. I see Gerard already told about the Clan MacAOL [below
-- SL]. They and the internet were there in force, but I *do* think we
outclassed them with the nametags. *WTG LIZ!*
3) A major spoiler about REVOLUTIONARY was dropped from a mike during a question
session. It bummed out and p*ssed off most of us the way it happened
(ESPECIALLY yours truly), and I see Gerard already told you what it was [below -
- SL]. I say no more unless asked. (it's too depressing).
4) There were some great workshops on Sunday, well... some on Saturday too.
Self-defense (by JD Lund (sp?))... a stunt guy and fight coordinator and
EXCELLENT martial arts person, and a writer's workshop for fanzines were two
that I attended. There were fencing and many others as well.
5) The traumatic trip TO Denver for yours truly is a thread all by itself. But,
let me say I spend 3 (that's THREE) hours IN a plane, ON a taxiway, IN San
Antonio before the trip ever got started. There was a major line of
thunderstorms moving through D/FW, so the DFW Airport was closed down for quite
a while. When it finally opened, we had to SIT THERE... and wait our turn.
THEN... I got to Dallas and made my connection to Denver (EVERYBODY was late, so
it was still there, thank God)... and when I got to Denver... there was a 2
(that's TWO) hour wait for the hotel shuttle. I was SUPPOSED to arrive at the
hotel around 6 pm... I GOT there at 9:45 pm. But... the rest of the weekend made
it worth it.
6) The Gestap... er... Security Guards (all wearing purple shirts... hence the
name "The Purple-Shirts"), were a tad testy. Not well liked by the average con-
goer. The hotel sucked. Rumor *I* heard was that it was going to close in about
2 weeks. Hmmm... looks like it. I expected to fling open my curtains and see
lovely mountains. Instead, I had a wonderful view of the loading dock. A bit
unorganized at times, but hey... pretty good for a first-time con. (whudda I
know... that was *my* first con too). :) Kudos to Krystmas tho. She did a
great job.
7) There are some odd people on this Earth. :) Just thought I'd mention that.
8) Sorry folks... hate to tell you this, but the release date for H3 is now
sometime in February. This comes from Panzer himself. Sompin about wanting to
avoid the Christmas rush....<G>
GERARD NG -- The hotel didn't have Lynn Fernandez listed. I did run into Kim
Crawford and Cathryn Bauer-Kahn later in the day.
The Convention was well attended (for being the first one). All tickets were
sold out by Friday. There was a cut off of 600 attendees. It was a little
disorganized but not too badly. There were people from all over the US, and some
women in Scottish Outfits.
The On-Line community was well represented. AOL, Prodigy and Internet users were
out in force. AOL had Baseball Caps made up with "Clan MacAOL", one of which was
presented to Adrian Paul.
The sentiment among the female Watchers of CI$ was that Stan is very cute in
real life. The overall sentiment among females at the convention was that Joe is
the sexiest man in TV. "Richie" by the way is still single -- Age 26. Someone
asked if he would go out with a cradle robber. He replied that he has gone out
with one or two in the past.
Adrian's wife Meilani (one of the Pepsi UH-HUH Girls) was also in attendance.
She was asked how she felt about Adrian's love scenes... She replied that others
may fantasize about making love to Adrian, she's "Got the Real Thing".
Bill Panzer was the first Speaker and was pitching HL III. There were previews
of HL III - which looked like it's going to be a lot better than HL II <g>.
There is going to be a 10 year old immortal in the Series.
Charlie is leaving the show.
HELVA PETERS -- [to BJ -] <<There is a tremendous lack of any remarks whatsoever
about Adrian Paul. I've heard several times what a great guys Jim B. and Stan K
are... but what about the Lad?>>
OMIGOSH!
I think I can safely repeat what has been stated elsewhere (including on
<another service>):
All the Nice Remarks that have been applied to the Other Guys go TRIPLE for AP.
Adrian Paul was a very pleasant surprise. He showed no sign of the arrogance
that often comes with success, especially in Show Business. He has a lot of
energy, but none of it is spilled or wasted, nor is it on a leash. Whether he
is in control or flustered (and he's *cute* when he's flustered), he always
seems to be completely centered and balanced. That is one of the qualities I
admire in Duncan.
He went "Above and Beyond the call of Duty". Autographing was scheduled for a
one-hour session for each Guest and a one-hour session with all four of them.
When Adrian heard how many people were standing in line for the second session
after they had missed out earlier, he decided to try to stay until everyone had
autographs. As a result, all the Guests signed for over three hours.
The Guests' activities were scheduled for Saturday. AP stayed on into Sunday,
signing more autographs at the PEACE table in the Dealers' Room on Sunday
morning.
On stage, he OWNED the Room, even when he briefly handed the mike over to
Meilani. (Someone asked what his wife thought of all the women who were
fantasizing about him. He laughed, rolled his eyes and dangled the mike into
the first row by the cord, and Meilani picked it up. She said essentially "You
can fantasize all you want, but I've got The Real Thing, Baby!" -- and Adrian
cracked up on stage.) He was different from Duncan, but still charming, polite,
sincere, and funny.
Just before I left for Denver, I picked up a message from Jacquie Groom on
HIGHLA-L. She said Elaine Nicol, her friend from Scotland, would be going to
the Con alone, arriving Wednesday. As my mother is a Nisbet with Munro, Ross
and Nicol blood, I looked Elaine up when I arrived Thursday. We hit it off
right away!
Elaine is from Glasgow and is a marvelous source on Things Scottish. She says
HIGHLANDER is *verry* popular in Scotland (when it can be found...) largely
because Duncan is more like most Scottish men than the usual stereotype, er,
drunkard. She says his attitudes, and by extension his morals, are actually
very Scottish. And Nicol is part of Clan MacLeod!
She also knows where Glenfinnan and Loch Shiel are located, and has a friend who
has seen the ruins of the castle where Ramirez died.
Gary (last name escapes me), a journalist, was the other Scot present. He did
interviews with, er, several people. I'm sure Elaine will keep us informed on
that front. He also had with him an item he acquired indirectly from the Prop
folks in the Movies -- the ORIGINAL version of Ramirez's katana! (Copies of it
were made for use in the fight scenes and TWWSNN.) Several CIS Watchers have
held it in their hands!
All weekend long we kept telling Elaine "Get a Modem!" I spoke to her Tuesday,
and she is going shopping Friday ...
ELAINE NICOL -- It was the time of the Gathering. Time to pack and travel to
that faraway land. In this case Denver, Colorado. It took almost twenty-four
hours to journey there. At least I was one of the first to arrive. Giving me
time to recover from my journey and a chance to check out the area. The Regency
Inn Hotel has been declared Holy Ground for the weekend. Luckily I have a room
there.
A group of Watchers who know about me invite me to have dinner with them.
They seem a good bunch, Dawson would be proud of them. At 18.00 everyone has to
register. This gives us a chance to see who is here and who's not. One of the
Watchers has brought a guitar and entertains us with some very haunting music.
Time for sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day.
The day starts early with an orientation session. Armed with the
information supplied there it's time for the first ordeal. The autograph
session. It seems that there are around 800 people here. I think that they are
all in this line.
The Buzz goes around, our hero has arrived. You can feel the excitement in
the air. Will we get to meet him or will we have to wait until later. As we wait
we are able to talk. Meet new people and possibly make new friends.
After an hour and a half in the queue they have to stop the session. There
are a lot of disappointed people, but there is always the afternoon session. Now
is a chance to spend all that hard earned money. An easy task as the dealers
room has plenty that I want to buy.
Next is the Question and Answer session with Stan Kirsch and Jim Byrnes.
They are very entertaining and I think they enjoy the session as much as we do.
Just time to grab something to eat. Then it's time for Adrian Paul's Question
and Answer session. Everyone is in this room and as he comes out on stage there
is thunderous applause, and flashing cameras. The session is wonderful and I
manage to ask a question. I was nervous but he makes it so easy to talk to him.
As soon as it's over it's back to the autograph queue. If it's possible
it's longer and people are worried that they will not get an autograph. The
guests want to sign for everyone and they do. They must be exhausted but we are
all happy and it has been worth the wait. Time to eat again, I join the Watchers
again. They suggest watching the latest episode, LINE OF FIRE. I agree and head
off with them. It is about twenty episodes ahead of the last one I saw, and the
character development is very apparent. I will look forward to seeing the
episodes in between. After the episode it's time for some more music and time to
relax.
An early rise, even though I had a late night. After breakfast went with
one of the Watchers to the storytelling and ended up reading 'Friends', it
seemed to be liked. The next session was Highlander History. I stayed on and
another of the Watchers got me involved. After feeling a bit nervous to begin
with, I really enjoy it, and I think the people who were there did too. Then it
was onto a panel on the making of Highlander. It was very interesting to see
just how much work goes into a single scene.
Word goes around that Adrian Paul is in the Dealers room and is signing
autographs. I head off there and get some as well as the chance to meet him
again. I also get a photograph taken with him. Time for Lunch, and some of the
Watchers are leaving this afternoon. So it will be our last meal together. I
will miss them but at least I have made some new friends.
The auction is last event of the weekend. I manage to buy a picture of
Duncan and Tessa, which makes me very happy. It will become one of my most
prized possessions. The auction takes most of the afternoon and I head off for a
meal with two of the remaining Watchers. After the meal the Watchers head off
for a nap (just can't take the pace). I stay with Gary who is doing an article
for a magazine about the Convention. He wants to know about the people who
attend conventions.
Later I join up with one of the Watchers and set off in search of a room
party. Which we duly find. Another pleasant evening listening to music and
chatting. Monday morning and most people are leaving today. I try to meet and
say goodbye to as many as possible. People are leaving at different times all
day.
By eight O'Clock everyone is gone. I am the only one left. I suppose that
means I take the Prize, as there can be only one. The Prize in this case: a
wonderful weekend with a lot of memories and a lot of new friends.
Until next year -- Don't lose your heads.
LYNN FERNANDEZ -- [To Cathryn Bauer-Kahn] I noticed your Con report doesn't
mention Helva's singing. I hope I wasn't the only Watcher to hear her sing.
Because if I was, everyone missed out on something wonderful. (Get ready to
blush HH). *What* a voice our Head Hacker has. (Someone get her a recording
contract) And the songs... heartbreaking tunes. Okay, I admit it, her version
of "Who Wants to Live Forever" had tears streaming down my face. I looked like
Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer. Oh and the other tune that got to me --
"Haunted"? "Haunting"? (Can't remember the title but if it wasn't haunted it was
definitely haunting.) One of my *biggest* regrets at the Con was missing the
other times Helva sang (kick, kick). And if I have the opportunity to hear Helva
sing again you can *bet* that I'll be there. Bravo! Head Hacker, Bravo!
(applause, applause) (is there an emoticon to represent a standing ovation?)
Helva's recollection of her playlist:
The World Inside the Crystal (Steve Savitsky)
- about the Magic of Computers
Lament of the Hawk (Baasch / Pantazis)
- based on the movie LADYHAWKE
Thoughts of a Homeless Alien (Julia Ecklar)
- one of those 'Rip Your Heart Out' songs
Medic (Mercedes Lackey & Leslie Fish - 1982)
- makes me think of Gregor, 200 years from now
Bright Eyes (Recorded by Art Garfunkel)
- missing Tessa
Who Knows Where The Time Goes (Judy Collins, I think)
- makes me think of Duncan's Cabin - & Tessa
Haunted (Brenda Sutton)
- a ghostly companion, friendly and wise
Duncan's Variation on "Who Wants to Live Forever"
(well, it has my name on it for now,
but I didn't really WRITE the lyrics, I just put
a lot of other people's pieces together -
Brian May, Gregory Widen & Co., Don Gordon ...)
[Editor's postscript: Elaine Nicol has arrived safely onto CIS.]
[Thanks to Temporary SubSysop Sheri Richardson for her assistance in compiling
this thread. A suitable bribe has been tendered. ;) ]
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For the insatiably curious, Elaine Nicol's record of the proceedings at the
auction held during the convention:
Adrian Paul's Practice Sword $420
Slan's Mask (THE GATHERING) $210
Autographed Poster: Adrian Paul $40
Script, autographed: BLESS THE CHILD $65
Picture of Rebecca & Reinhardt (REVENGE IS SWEET) $40
Press Pack for Second Season $40
Autographed Photograph of Patrick Stewart $50
Photograph of Jonathon Banks $21
Framed Press Cutting (STUDIES IN LIGHT) $310
German Documents (RETURN OF AMANDA) $55
Model of Tessa's car, autographed by Adrian Paul $55
Script, autographed: LINE OF FIRE $80
Gold Dish (CROSS OF ST ANTOINE) $35
Tartan Cloth (FAMILY TREE) $110
Bag (INNOCENT MAN) $100
Registered Letter (THE FIGHTER) $45
Convention Stage Flat: Jim Byrnes $45
Script, autographed $100
Photograph of Duncan and Tessa from Loft Set $325
Convention Stage Flat: Stan Kirsch $130
Dragon Head Katana, autographed $490
Set Visit for 2 $700
Cross of St Antoine (CROSS OF ST ANTOINE) $125
Script, autographed: THE SAMURAI $125
Convention Stage Flat: Adrian Paul $155
'The Fifth Chronicle' (THE HUNTERS) $800
Convention Stage Flat: Ramirez and Connor $150
Convention Stage Flat: Quickening T-Shirt Art $61
[Editor's note: the address on the registered letter is "372 Water Street, #10,"
and a US zip code, but there is no city. -- SL]
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THE UNCLASSIFIED ADS
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According to William Panzer's presentation at the convention, the release of
HIGHLANDER III: THE SORCERER may now be moved back to February or March, 1995,
to avoid the holiday rush.
Negotiations are reportedly underway for the commission of a series of novels
based on the HIGHLANDER television series; projected release date, September
1995.
In the SF Lit Forum, Library #4, FANTASY LITERATURE -- BLADES.ZIP: A Windows
Truetype font starring an arsenal of sword dingbats. Readily convertible to
Macintosh.
In this library [SF Media #12, HIGHLANDER] -- HIFAQS.TXT: version 2.0 of the
amazingly useful Highlander Frequently Asked Questions file.
In this library -- MARITE.TXT: text file containing the collected thoughts of
Mario Azzopardi upon directing the Highlander episode RITE OF PASSAGE.
In this library -- SWORDC.TXT: two catalogs of reproduction swords.
Now taking submissions: THE FIFTH CHRONICLE is looking for Highlander fiction
and start-up funds. Inquiries, submissions, pre-sales and outright donations may
be addressed to the Editor.
We have negotiated a reciprocal distribution agreement with CLAYMORE, a Scottish
HIGHLANDER fan club; inquiries to Elaine Nicol, 100425.1552@compuserve.com OR
107 Cairnswell Ave, Halfway, Cambuslang, Glasgow G72 8SP.
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FINE PRINT
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THE PRIZE is a house organ of the Watchers Of CIS. We are not funded by anybody
or sanctioned by anybody. If we get in trouble, I'm changing my name and moving
to Zanzibar.
The Watchers of CIS are a floating pool of HIGHLANDER fans on the Compuserve
Information Service. We make no claims to official status or knowledge, but we
know what we like.
We hereby absolve Compuserve Information Services of all blame for the content
of this newsletter.
THE PRIZE may be freely distributed in hardcopy form ONLY across the seven seas
of space so long as no alterations are made to the text thereof, save any
required translations into languages other than the original American English.
Any violations of this caveat will result in the wrath of the Goddess and more
importantly the wrath of CIS, so please don't spoil our fun.
The Watchers of CIS exist on the Compuserve Information Service. For info on the
network and the SF Forum (where the HIGHLANDER message-board section is), call
1-800-848-8990 and ask for representative 186.
THE PRIZE 1994 is a production of Woodhull & Desmoulins Press.
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Here are the addresses that will accept mail for the series:
Rysher TPE, 3400 Riverside Drive, Suite 600, Burbank, CA 91505
Please write Keith Samples at this address to express your support for the show.
SSA Public Relations, 16027 Ventura Blvd., Suite 206, Encino, CA 91436
Debbie Douglass now recommends correspondence to actors be sent c/o Rysher!
Davis/Panzer Productions, 8500 Melrose Ave., Suite 202, West Hollywood, CA 90069
The place to direct "canon" & merchandising issues.
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This issue's contributors:
CATHRYN BAUER-KAHN -- 72734,1403
KIM CRAWFORD -- 75230,2250
GERARD NG -- 73554,635
HELVA PETERS -- 71321,502
ELAINE NICOL -- 100425,1552
LYNN FERNANDEZ -- 74473,2063
and myself, the eternal Goddess Samantha.
E-Mail -- 73524.43@compuserve.com OR [email protected]
SnailMail -- C/O Woodhull & Desmoulins Press, 25830 Village Green, #304,
Harrison Twp, MI 48045
[NOTE new temporary address!]
Computers by Apple Computer
Red Ribbons by the Mercury Phoenix Trust
For Entertainment Purposes Only
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HIGHLANDER, for those of you just tuning in (the rest of you could skip this
bit), is a television series based somewhat loosely upon a film of the same
name, concerning a man from 1500's Scotland who discovers that he is immortal,
and cannot die. There are others like him, he finds, and they are engaged in a
fight to the last immortal, for the power of the Prize. In the end, there can
be only one.
The movie and the series diverge at this point: in the film, our man is Connor
MacLeod (Christopher Lambert), and he lives at the time of the last days, the
Gathering, when all the remaining immortals are coming together for the fight to
the death.
In the series, however, our immortal hero is Duncan MacLeod (Adrian Paul) --
"Same clan, different vintage" -- and the Gathering is not yet at hand. Duncan's
task is to keep his head from week to week.
For that is the only way to slay an immortal. From any wound but one, even unto
death, they will recover -- but "if your head comes away from your neck, it's
over." So says Connor's immortal mentor, Ramirez (Sean Connery).
-- THE PRIZE, Issue #1
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WATCH YOUR HEAD
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