There's no faster way to ruin an engaging and lively discussion panel than by opening it to questions from the audience. Okay, I'm overstating it. Nothing was ruined, actually, but what I'm getting at is one of my bigger pet peeves.

If it's an open Q&A session, please remember that if you're about to ask a question that requires five or six minutes of personal preamble, you're not only wasting the panelists' time -- which quite often consists of busy people, the kind of movers and shakers that are able to amass a large audience when they go to speak in public -- but you're wasting the collective audience's time. You've decided that your incredibly time-consuming question is worth more than two or possibly three other questions being asked.

I've just come back from the premiere of Fog City Mavericks, a documentary about how San Francisco filmmakers are a breed apart from what is found in Hollywood. Written and directed by Gary Leva (Star Wars fans will recognize his name from the fantastic DVD documentaries produced for all six movies), the movie explores the often eccentric geniuses that helped shape cinema, from the father of the moving image Eadward Muybridge, to folks like Francis Ford Coppola, George Lucas, Philip Kaufman, and Caroll Ballard who left indelible marks in the '70s and '80s, to the latest movie by Sofia Coppola and the works of Pixar. I highly recommend you check it out if you can.

Anyway, after the screening, George Lucas, John Lasseter, Saul Zaentz, Chris Columbus and Gary Leva took to the stage to answer questions. I always cringe when panels open up to the public, because the same thing always happens.

You get that person.

You know, the person whose question is much, much longer than any possible answer they're looking for. The person determined to hijack the evening and make it about themselves.

San Francisco is, after all, a city with activism in its blood, so it's not unexpected for a politically or socially charged question to surface. This person starts early by framing the question as something that came to her when she read an article recently (okay, first flag, the question instantly becomes something not for the benefit of the audience, but rather as a stage to show her reading habits). She then proceeds to take out the article clipping and read from it. I tuned out a lot of it. She lost me at "paradigm" (note to all, you will always, always lose me with "paradigm.")

Now, what's the polite way to ask such a question? How about using your own words. Watch me. "Hi. In today's turbulent political climate where so much of society seems to be following the status quo, how can you as influential voices help use your craft for the betterment of society?"

Look at that. I did that in 33 words, which can be read in less than 33 seconds. I did not feel the need to tell you who I was, where I was coming from, or what I read over a bowl of kashi and soy milk this morning. I asked the question in the hopes that the answer would be enlightening, not that my question would.

Kudos to Chris Columbus for jumping on this thankless question. He stated, quite eloquently, that filmmaking covers a wide spectrum of voices and messages, and that in recent years, messages interested in making political or social changes have managed to be heard, but that no one can expect every filmmaker to be the next person to change the world in a way you want it to be changed. He quite rightly said "some of us are entertainers."

You get a sense that the Q&A hog would ask Jim Davis to write a Garfield strip that would end world hunger, or request that a birthday party clown bend a balloon animal that would shed light on African civil wars. It's great to feel the need to change the planet and make steps to do so, but come on, you'll be far more effective if you choose the right venue.

There's a sci-fi convention equivalent to this I want to share. It's not political, but it is just as self-centered. I refer to it as the Conspicuous Girlfriend Mention (CGM). It's when a fan, when given a microphone, is strangely compelled to drop the fact that he has a girlfriend when it has absolutely nothing to do with the question that is being asked. I've seen it at Comic-Con and Celebrations past, and it never fails to make me chuckle.

"Hi, I was just talking with my girlfriend and she wanted me to ask, where do the Marvel series fit into continuity?" It's not that I doubt this person has a girlfriend, I'm quite sure he does. But his insecure need to tell this to a crowd of strangers manages to wash away any cred having said girlfriend earns him.

Anyway, won't you folks join me in my new socially progressive, globally enlightened movement to Stamp Out Self-Centered SoapBox Questions during Q&A sessions. SOSCSBQ is the working acronym for my new non-profit organization. It still needs work, I know, but I'll be happy to entertain suggestions during an open Q&A.

TIme permitting.

ph