Hi...I'm Will

At work today, while on a break, I watched the YouTube trailer for the second Hobbit film, The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug and it reminded me of something that happened at Salt Lake Comic Con. It's where I met William Kircher.

Comic Con was a surreal experience. You're crammed in a space with incredibly talents writers, actors, directors, artists and thousands of us normal people wanting to have a good time and to be in their presence. The entire back wall of the convention hall was reserved for the celebrities, but a few of them were scattered among the masses.

By the Weta Digital display, one of the event's celebrities had a table set up and he was signing autographs and posing for pictures with fans. Many of the celebrities charged for both autographs and photos and the money raised was donated to various charities.

Sitting with Mr. Kircher (Bifur in The Hobbit films...) was an assistant, a beautiful blond woman who's job it was to keep the fans orderly, making sure we were acting according to Comic Con protocol. Since I wasn't really there to "bug" the celebrities (and better yet, lacked funds for pictures of autographs...), I approached the table and looked at something I could take as a memento, something I could save.

"Take one." I heard a voice say. I looked over and Mr. Kircher saw I was looking at a stack of business cards. "Thanks," I said and picked up a card. I took a step back checking out the card when I heard someone to my left say, "Hi. I'm Will."

I turned and saw that Mr. Kircher had left his chair behind the desk, walked over to me and extended his hand. I shook it and said something like, "Hello... ah, thanks." I was a little in shock that he would want to shake my hand. Now, he wasn't the biggest celebrity there as far a popularity goes, but he was an invited guest. People paid good money to see him and others. He didn't have to make that extra effort to make me feel like he was generally glad that I was there for him.

Watching the trailer it reminded me of a kind gesture one person did for another. I'm sure he doesn't remember me--nor would I expect him to. But I hope I don't forget the way a small act can mean so much.