Chewbacca is human too...

Last weekend my wife and I were in Orlando Florida visiting friends. It was not until Saturday that I realized it was Star Wars Celebration weekend. I would have liked to visit the convention but did not have the time between our tightly knit plans. That Monday, while waiting for our outbound flight, my wife pointed out an unusually tall elderly man walking toward the group of gates where we were waiting for out flight. She asked me how tall he was and I told her he was at least seven feet and likely a little taller. After that I involuntarily, and quite unconsciously, stared at the man for ten or fifteen seconds as he walked by. He walked with a strangely familiar gait, he had long shaggy gray hair and his walking cane looked like it was made out of blue glass and was fitted with a unique pommel that appeared to be machined aluminum. The man walked past and my wife nudged me and told me to stop staring. As soon as she snapped me out of my haze it occurred to me why the man looked familiar. It was Peter Mayhew; the actor who played Chewbacca in the original Star Wars trilogy.

Before I continue, let me clarify something: I have never been much of a celebrity hound. I have seen a few, met a few and even engaged a few in conversation. The one thing I have learned is that they are regular people just like you and I. They merely happen to be in a profession that puts them in the spotlight.

None the less, for the first time in my life I felt a bit of that child-like giddiness at seeing one of the most beloved Star Wars characters from my formative years. So, in an uncharacteristic feat of social boldness I thought I would go ask for a picture with someone my inner ten year old once considered a hero. I held my camera low in my hand and kindly asked Mr. Mayhew if I could get a picture. Before I was finished asking he said, “No” and began shaking his head. He followed the end of my question with another, “No”.

I turned and walked away fully realizing that this had been the most probable outcome of my gamble. I sat down and smiled at my wife and told her he refused and followed with the typical, “well that’s the way it goes sometimes” and “it was worth a shot” and all of that. But as I said all those things I realized I was slightly miffed at getting rejected and even more so; my feelings were hurt. I guess that wide eyed ten year old in the back of my brain that was such a Star Wars fanatic felt a bit kicked to the curb. I thought, I wasn’t asking for much! And I was correct.

However, I thought about it for a few minutes and asked myself what I might do in his place. Mr. Mayhew had just come from a weekend that was one long continuous public appearance. I have only a, comparatively, small amount of experience with this to date but have already experienced how emotionally draining it is being 100% “on” for hours on end. While it is a lot of fun to interact with new people I for one, being an introvert, know how much energy it takes. I may not have been asking for much, but I was still asking him to give a total stranger something while offering nothing in return. At what point does a person have the right to say, “Not more photos, no more autographs please?” Any time they want. We do not deserve a picture or scribble from someone merely because we are a fan or like their work. They are not imbued with some special energy, with the obvious exception of the few narcissistic types, from fan adoration that entitles us to their attention. I must admit, and I’m sure many others can as well, that after carefully examining my motivation for getting said picture I learned something new. My motivation was not unselfish. It was not to complement Mr. Mayhew but to obtain a trophy for my own benefit. Something to say, “Look at me! I had my picture taken with so and so!”

I for one prefer to remain a faceless author that passes by unnoticed wherever I go and do not fault anyone for wanting their privacy. So I forgive Mr. Mayhew for hurting my feelings and I offer my sincere apology for treating him like a means to an end rather than a person deserving of consideration as such. In one additional act of social boldness:

I ask Mr. Mayhew to read my book. I think you will like it. And if we are ever again afforded the opportunity to meet perhaps it will not only be civil, the previous lack thereof being entirely my fault, but a pleasant colloquial exchange of words. 


J.A.S.