So there I was ...
I had just bolted from the Heroes panel at Comic-Con and had an hour or so to kill before going to the Pop Candy get-together at the posh Hilton Bayfront. You can tell it's posh because the bar charges an average of $12 per drink - and the staff of leggy European emigres kept looking at me like I was homeless, even though I was wearing ... well, you can see what I was wearing above. Maybe I can't blame them too much for that.
As I was walking around the bar to avoid forcible ejection, I saw Adam from Mythbusters talking to a rather distinguished-looking older gentleman. Nothing says dedication to class like wearing a coat and tie in the Hilton lobby, which is, essentially, a gilded greenhouse. And the gent looked strangely familiar. Buoyed by what I guess was heat exhaustion - I'd waited for close to an hour to even get into the panel. And this was considered a light wait throughout the weekend - I decided to be direct: I walked right up to the mystery guest and said, "I know you." Because I'm an idiot. Could've been worse; in the seconds where I built up my courage, I considered asking the guy if he was Steven Spielberg.
Today, I wouldn't have blamed the guy for walking away, leaving me with a couple of choice epithets. Not to mention poor Adam; when was the last guy, you think, that he got stiffed? Instead, Mr. X was affable. "Just come back when you've figured it out," he replied, smiling. Undaunted, I took three steps back and looked at a young couple that had come up behind me. They weren't any help - all they knew was, Adam from Mythbusters was right in front of them, and they wanted a picture.
Without them to rely on, I turned to technology, punching up the Web on my phone ... when suddenly I heard an echo from within my brain, some lonely voice of recognition, like Jacob Marley after meeting his cousin Bob: JOHHHHNNNN ... LANNNNNNDISSS ... I typed the name into Google Images as if it were an incantation.
And oh crap, it really was John Landis. Mr. Blues Brothers. Mr. Coming To America. The man behind Thriller, for goodness' sakes. I considered marching back up to him and presenting him with his own image, but a rare dose of common sense won the day. Seeing that Mr. Landis and Adam were talking with an unidentified woman, I positioned myself between them and handed her the camera, asking if she would take my picture "with these two distinguished gentlemen." Heat exhaustion, I tell you. I apologized to Mr. Landis for being an idiot fanboy, but he got the last word in, again.
"Hi, my name is Jamie," he said with a laugh, shaking my hand.
P.S: I ended up staying only briefly for the PC meet, but that was enough time to get this shot with the column's host, the lovely Whitney Masterson. If you wouldn't mind, though, please holler at her on Twitter and back my idea for next year's Con: 2010 Pop Candyoke!
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