On October 30, 1938, Orson Welles aired a radio play adapted from the H. G. Wells book, “War of the Worlds.” Circumstances collided with presentation style and a nationwide panic ensued as people became convinced that a full-scale Martian invasion was in progress. On Sunday I got a small taste of how Orson Welles must have felt afterward.
This past Saturday was April Fools day and for the second year running, I felt that the Shore Leave site should be a part of the annual antics. The original plan fell through due to technical difficulties just one hour into the day, so I decided to come up with a “Plan B” and save the original for next year.
Last year’s prank went pretty well, except that at least one person didn’t get the joke. As near as I can figure, she overlooked the text explaining the origins of “MeteorCon,” so I decided that this year I’d use something more closely resembling a press release.
After mulling it over for an hour or so, I finally hit on the idea of tapping into the popularity of the new Battlestar Galactica series. Going completely over the top (How else would you play an April Fools joke?), I thought it would be a grand idea to actually hold the convention on the Galactica. Not on the sets, but on the actual spacecraft. And so I started writing…
As much I wanted to make it sound nearly believable, I also wanted to make it clear that this a joke. I added an “April 1” dateline. I explained how the Sci-Fi channel had decided it was cheaper to build an actual space ship rather than do all the computer generated imagery. And throughout the text, I referred to the Galactica as an actual spaceship and even talked about how the convention would be set up onboard.
The emails I saw on Saturday afternoon were all favorable. People not only got the joke, they thought it was funny! When I walked into the STAT meeting on Sunday, the first several people I saw congratulated me on a great prank. This was a great success! Then I ran into the convention co-chairs…
Kett and Marilyn hadn’t known about the change of plans. While I was celebrating a successful prank on Saturday, they were fielding emails and phone calls from people who were congratulating them on their coup, or worrying over where to find enough space in the Hunt Valley Inn for “several city blocks worth” of sets. Evidently a half-dozen (or more!) people were convinced that the convention had either acquired the sets, or would be taking place aboard an actual space ship! (As Kett put it, “These are Science Fiction fans, they like to believe that anything’s possible.”)
If I had it to do over, I’d have sent Kett and Marilyn an email to let them know about the change of plans. (Seeing as how I was working on this from 1 to 3 AM, phone calls were definitely out of the question.) Other than that, I probably wouldn’t change anything.
To those who were taken in, all I can say is, “Gotcha!”
That and, “Run for your life! The Martians are marching on Grovers Mill!”