You know how, during the Three Rivers Festival, you see all these strange people you never see at any other time and wonder where they spend the rest of the year? Probably the same phenomenon will be observable at Christie's this fall when it holds "the first official studio auction of memorabilia from all five 'Star Trek' television series and 10 movie spin-offs." We'll have a better idea of where these strange people have been, though -- in their bedrooms. Beam me up, Scotty.
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Long before there were Trekkies there were science fiction conventions.
I attended the annual World Science Fiction Convention as a kid in 1966 in Cleveland, Ohio, where I sold copies of my amateur fanzine, "The Animation Journal," and met Isaac Asimov and publisher/agent Forrest J. Ackerman for the first time.
Coincidentally, the pilot episode of STAR TREK was previewed at that very 1966 convention, with Gene Roddenberry answering questions. Had I known the seminal nature of the event I'd have taken pictures, but alas, I only snapped my own vendor's table -- where I sold quite a few magazines, if I may say.
The media has always loved to photograph people in costumes at sci-fi conventions, but most attendees only dress up on the "costume ball and contest" night. I'll grant the Trekkies may be more hard-core dresser-uppers...
In 2000 the WorldCon was in Chicago, so I ran up there for a couple days to recapture the atmosphere and have a steak at The Palm. The authors' names have changed in the autograph room, but the events at Worldcon were little different from 1966. (The Worldcons are equally devoted to the literature; the Hugo Awards are annually presented there.)
The steak was so-so.
P.S. --
A complete set of my old "Animation Journal," which examined stop-motion effects in movies like "Earth vs. the Flying Saucers," "20 Million Miles to Earth" and "King Kong," now sells to fanzine collectors for over $1,500 and rising.
In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit I once dressed up in a full gorilla suit one chilly Los Angeles Halloween.
I got to the party late and the heavy, hot gorilla suit from Don Post Studios was the only costume left. I rode with the other costumed party-goers up and down Sunset and Hollywood Boulevards on the back of a flatbed truck (my long fur kept me warm while the hunchbacks and witches shivered in the draft).
We surprised a lot of pedestrians, stopped at a hospital or a Brown Derby now and then for a quick visit -- and the gorilla was the only one who got a mention in the Los Angeles Times.