The lobby as it appeared when I arrived. Note the purple display case on the far wall: it will come back to haunt us later.
The Dome Truck ("Guggy 6") was nearly full by the time I arrived and ready to make a move to the warehouse. I took three people in my van and followed the truck to the Secret Fortress of Dome, where a sea of seats greeted us as we unloaded the wood that was once the stage and may be again someday.
My goodness there are a lot of seats here! I now know where the Fortress of Dome is, and they're lucky to have access to it. No, I'm not going to tell you; you need to show up at a work session to be cleared for that information.
At the nearby Annex of Dome were stored costumes...
...pieces of sets...
...and the miles of cable and mountains of stage equipment necessary to put on a show.
When we got back to the Doomed Dome, I popped in to take this picture of what was once the the main stage. I didn't get a picture of the movie theater side because the lights were already off and it was mostly sealed off.
Those people who stayed behind working had not been idle, and they'd figured out how to salvage the display cases:
Yes, they simply cut them out of the wall. After all, the whole building is about to be torn down, so it really doesn't matter how much damage they do to the interior fittings, does it? You get to see here right into what was once the room behind the Box Office.
After a break for lunch, we set to work on loading the truck a second time. The word was to try and salvage anything we could, since you never know what could be re-used. Here are stacks of the purple false ceiling tiles, which if nothing else can be used for sound insulation.
The display cases are heavy. Even with eight fairly hefty people, it was extremely challenging to get the cases onto the truck, in part because there is no easy way to get a grip on the case without risking injury to either your hands or feet. (In retrospect, I think several sets of furniture-lifting straps would have helped a lot here.) I forgot to get a photo of one of the cases by itself. We shoved one case into the truck, filled in around and on top of it, and made another trip to the Fortress of Dome, where getting the case off the truck proved to be at least as challenging as putting it on in the first place. Then it was back to the Dome, where I helped manhandle the second case onto the truck, but then had to bail before the truck was fully loaded in order to give myself (barely) enough time to run back to the apartment, clean up, and get to that evening's SAP Open.
Don't you just love specialized theatrical jargon?
While I'm glad that my Day Jobbe as a professional logistician involves building databases instead of humping boxes onto and off of trucks, I was happy to come and help out with this nearly-final stage of the RetroDome move-out, and I've let them know that when they find a new home, if I'm available, I'll be happy to come help them move back in as well.
I had a thought while working with the Guggenheims to "strike the set" at the RetroDome: Some people treat all of life as a zero-sum game, and I get the distinct impression that there are people who think the only way they can have more happiness is to reduce other people's supply of it. The RetroDome is, in my mind, an example of the opposite: you can simply make the pie bigger, so that everyone gets more happiness. I've so thoroughly enjoyed myself in the short time since I discovered the RetroDome that, just like my involvement with SF/F genre conventions, I want to keep helping make the happiness pie bigger, since that means I get bigger pieces for myself. Or maybe I was just thinking about slices on account of they fed us pizza for lunch.