Well, that just says total geek, doesn't it?

ComicCon, billed as the largest comic book convention in the country, is held every summer in San Diego. For many a year I've vowed to go to check it out. But things always came up. Like sloth and indolence. What can I say? I'm not just a geek - I'm a lazy geek.

Last year for the first time I decided to go ahead and head on down there. What a mistake!

I arrived promptly at 10:00 am. After wandering around the front of the Convention Center looking for the ticket booth, I finally discovered the line to get in. No problem, I thought. It curved away around the side of the building, so I started following it to find the end. I went around the side of the building. The line continued around the back.

I followed it around to the back and it started snaking across a parking lot and toward the hotel behind the Center. It continued around the side of the hotel, across another parking lot, back behind some shops and down a garden path.

At this point I had already concluded that I wasn't going to stand in this line! But I had this sick kind of fascination to see just how far the line extended. I finally came to the end, no less then half a mile from the front of the line. As I stood there shaking my head in amazement, at least another 100 people joined the line within 2 minutes.

Lesson number one. Pre-purchase the tickets. So that's what I did this year.

Lesson number two. Figure out what I want to see and do in advance. The big events are obviously going to be mobbed. (Well, maybe. It's possible that most of the people that would be mobbing the events are still stuck in the line to get in.)

So I looked up the particulars on the web site and printed them out. Then I spent a half hour crossing out all the "So You Want to Be A Comic Book Artist" seminars. Are there that many people who believe that the life of a comic book artist is glamorous and all the cute girls will swoon over your powerful pen and ink skillz? Well, obviously! Silly me.

Highlights look to be a session with Neal Gaiman. Oh, yes. Got to make that.

Hmm, Joss Whedon, followed by Q&A with a bunch of the writers from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. Oooh, yes! My geek antennae are quivering in antici… pation.

Ahh, Warner Brothers is going to show clips from the new WB LooneyToons movie. Got to see that, or Mary will never talk to me again.

Okay, so apparently I'm going to a comic book convention to listen to a bunch of writers. I'm cool with that. I'd rather listen to writers than actors any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Or in this case three or four times on Saturday.

And I suppose there are comic books to look at. I could spend a little time doing that. I vaguely consider staying for the masquerade ball in the evening, as I'm sure that would yield a ton of stuff to write about, but too much fun in too small a time without a nap makes Mikey cranky. And I'd probably suffer from massive geek overload and spontaneously combust.

Saturday, July 19, 2003

As this would obviously be a high class affair, I dressed in Southern California semi-formal. Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Socks are only required with formal wear. Informal omits the shoes. But that's only applicable for dining out. Ball cap of course, have to cover the shiny spots up top.

I arrived downtown and parked at the big mall there. Thought it was a smart move. Stupid, stupid, stoopid! Should have wandered upstairs and bought a Pez dispenser or something. Forgot about validation. The parking ended up costing me $28 - more then the ticket to the convention. What a moron!

The mall is only 3-4 blocks from the Convention Center, so it was an easy walk. As I approached the Center I started noticing oddly attired people wandering hither and yon. And more and more as I drew closer. Elves, hobbits, Imperial Stormtroopers, a wide variety of superheroes, many which did not actually mimic any known superheroes. Goths in abundance. Sailor Moon devotees. Indiana Joneses by the truckload. And so on.

In any case, I knew I had arrived. Where, exactly, I wasn't too clear on, but perhaps I'd catch a clue later.

As I arrived 10 minutes before the doors opened, I got to wander up and down the sidewalk in front of the center trying to find the door where pre-registered ticket holders were to enter to get their tickets. No signs apparently. And efforts to find the right door weren't helped whatsoever by the security guards with megaphones yelling at everyone to either get on the sidewalk or get off the sidewalk. I'm pretty sure I heard both commands shouted at very high volume many, many times.

I eventually found the right door, sidled in to get my pass, and off I went.

Impressions

I wasn't really aware -- or perhaps had I just filed the information away in some deep, dark recess of my mind -- that people in amazing numbers get costumed up for this convention. I thought this was something people did for the masquerade ball later in the evening. It appears that people do this and just wander around.

I sometimes dress up as Indiana Jones around the house and then play 'find the mystical relic' with Mary as the Amazonian priestess, but this seemed different somehow.

Saw several women dressed up as Lara Croft. Not a difficult costume: skin tight tee shirt, skin tight short shorts, couple of pistols in holsters strapped to the legs. Oh, and combat boots - gotta have the combat boots. Surprisingly all the Laura Crofts I saw looked pretty damn good. Still, in this day and age, wandering around with a couple of realistic-looking automatic pistols in public seemed an interesting choice.

On the other hand, there were the two or three women who'd dressed as Trinity from The Matrix. I'm sorry, there are a vanishingly small number of women in this world who can wear skintight latex outfits and look good in them. None of them appeared to be in attendance at the convention. And I can really think of better outfits to wear in San Diego in July.

Saw several Neos from The Matrix also. In all cases I was left wondering: once he'd dressed up as Neo, did he look in the mirror and say to himself, "man, I look just like Neo"? Did his friends look at him and say "Dude, you look just like Neo!" If that's the case, possibly he needs new friends. Apparently a set of wrap around shades and a black duster is all one needs to capture the look of that iconic hero. I assume I didn't notice the extra 30-40 pounds of ballast that Keanu Reeves was carrying in the movie 'cause the action was so fast and furious. I'll have to go back and watch it again sometime.

In one of those little moments that really make you wonder, I noticed several people dressed as hobbits. With molded rubber hobbit feet shoes, complete with extra large rubber toes with hair on top. So I pondered this a while. Somewhere out there is someone with the time and energy and the drive to design and build a set of dies to make fake rubber hobbit feet, complete with molded in soles. And attached hair. And this someone made them and sold them.

First I wonder at the person who did all this, in the expectation that there would be other people out there who would buy hobbit feet shoes. Then I wonder about the people who did actually buy them. Then I search out the nearest place which serves delicious frosty beer. And drink a bottle or three.

The people dressed as their favorite wizard student at Hogwart's were a treat. Of course the person in question is playing a 14 year old boy or girl. It seems a little strange to be completely outfitted in robes, muffler and carrying a Thunderbolt 2000 when you're 35, but perhaps that's just me. I'd like to revisit my childhood too. Mary believes I haven't yet left it.

Apparently Goths are also somehow related to the comic book scene, as many attended. I have nothing against Goths at all. I just find the whole look rather odd for San Diego. It just seems downright wrong to be wandering around a beach community while wearing black. And combat boots. Wearing shoes in San Diego is sometimes remarked upon: boots seem like something from an alternate dimension.

I found much amusement with the people who were trying to maneuver strollers through the convention floor. The aisles weren't terribly wide and the floor by noon was already completely packed. I doubt seriously that the 9-month-old babies were getting much of a thrill from the convention. I guess hiring a babysitter so that one can go to the convention and not impede everyone else's progress was too much of a challenge. (Mary suggested that at this point I should have launched into a rant on the thoughtlessness of the people involved, but I feel anyone that clueless is probably not quite up to accessing the Internet, so they would in all likelihood miss any interesting comments I might make on the issue.)

Anyhow, after a little while surveying the crowd I decided a beer was in order. Purveyors of said beverages were not in operation yet as it was only 10:30 am. I figure if smoothies are considered acceptable for morning consumption then there is no reason to refuse to serve frothy, ice cold, malt beverages. But I was turned away with thirst unslaked. Philistines!

I started off by attending a session held in the biggest ballroom by Warner Brothers. They were promoting a bunch of their upcoming films. Most of them didn't generate much interest on my part and the previews, such as they were, for some films like the third Harry Potter film pretty much consisted of the actor playing Harry and the director saying "ooh, this film will be so cool. We can't show anything of the actual film to you just yet but you can be sure it'll be awesome." Color me less than impressed.

One interesting announcement was that WB will start putting out cartoon shorts to accompany their films starting later this year. And they capped the announcement by showing one of the new shorts for the audience. Absolutely awesome. A Sylvester and Tweety Bird cartoon. Now, I was never a big fan of the Tweety Bird shorts. I always thought they were the weakest of the classic WB cartoons. But the one they showed was excellent. As good as, if not better than, any of the old classic cartoons, albeit with a little more adult humor than in the old days. If they are all up to the same standard, they'll be worthy additions to the Looney Toons pantheon.

We also got a preview, rather rough, of the new combined live action and animated Looney Toons film, which looked very good. Looking forward to this a lot.

After this they started bringing out some stars like Halle Berry to promote some additional films. Since I have little interest in Hollywood celebrities I decided to decamp and make my way over to the session with Neil Gaiman. Mary has pointed out that I have made no comment as to the babeitude of Ms. Berry, who was indeed a fine example of babeliciousness. I am, however, a happily married man and thus I normally avert my eyes from displays of scantily clad female forms so that my thoughts will remain pure.

The session with Neil Gaiman turned out to be excellent. He's an amazingly funny speaker. Well, in actuality he didn't have any prepared speech to give and spent the whole session responding to questions. So all of his talk was off the cuff. He's a much funnier individual than I can ever hope to be. I'm not really familiar with his comic book work, which I understand is regarded as classic, but instead have only recently discovered his novels. I intend at the first opportunity to acquire some of the Sandman series to get caught up though.

After that session I decided to wander around and observe my fellow geek in his natural habitat. Oh and score some cash and drink a couple of beers. Scoring cash wasn't terribly hard -- well, for me anyhow. I took one look at the ATM in the convention center and the line of 20-30 some people and left to search elsewhere. Next door to the Convention Center is a rather large Marriott. As is the case with almost all major hotels in tourist spots, there was an ATM ensconced in the lobby. And right across from the ATM was a very nice little snack bar with cold delicious beer that began calling to me. I responded with a cheery greeting and imbibed one or possibly two, while seated in a comfortable easy chair in quiet splendor. Ahh…. Remember we're talking about a hotel that was literally no more then 50 feet from the Convention Center. While I sat enjoying the boon of beer I saw no one come in and take advantage of the ATM. Their loss.

After drinking said beer and with a now comfortably full wallet I ventured back to the Convention Center. Along the way I passed the same line I had pondered standing in last year, still winding away far out of sight 3 hours after the convention had opened. I briefly considered stopping and asking someone in line how long they'd been waiting. But the barely concealed hatred that appeared to be directed at someone who was obviously cool and recently refreshed with frosty, cold beer and who had a day pass hanging from a cord around his neck gave me pause. So I wandered on by, surreptitiously covering up the pass. I was quite sure some were thinking of flinging me to the ground, administering a good shellacking, and then absconding with said pass. I certainly would have been strongly tempted in their shoes.

Now refreshed, I decided to brave the show floor. Oh man, oh man. I haven't been in the San Diego Convention Center since they expanded it some years ago. I was a little taken aback at just how large it was inside on the ground floor. I think one could do laps in it with a small plane. Possibly even a 737.

It was geek heaven. Comics, action figures, posters, artwork, video games, board games, anything and everything that a geek could want was there. Well except for electronics. But pretty much everything else. Including some scantily clad Amazonian superheroines and booth babes.

Booth babes are women hired to don a skimpy and/or tight costume who stand in front of various booths to entice those who long for the touch of a real woman to peruse contents of said booth. I've always felt that the idea is fundamentally flawed as the type of person who'd be enticed to check out the booth by a booth babe would likely have a hard time remembering what it was that the booth sold for more than 5 or maybe 6 seconds. He'd probably remember the babe for many fevered nights, and that's pretty much it. But maybe that's just me.

I had no idea there were so many comic book production houses out there. Not to mention independent comic book artists. And just artists. Amazing!

A small confession of mine. Although I like to consider myself a geek of sorts, I have never really gotten into comic books. As Mary points out I already have enough hobbies, especially expensive ones, and I don't really need another. But right now I could seriously consider dropping another hobby to take up comic book collecting. Of course, I'd probably end up wifeless in short order. Damn difficult choice to make.

But that feeling passed over me quickly. I settled, after wandering over the length and breadth of the floor, on a couple of action figures and a couple of graphic novels. I felt that I needed to get the action figures to accompany my Sigmund Freud action figure (with kung fu grip that grasps a cigar that sometimes is just a cigar). So now Giles and Faith from Buffy the Vampire Slayer flank Siggie with drawn crossbows and axes. This makes a tableau that somehow works in one of those ways that makes me think that I really need to up my medication. Mary is now making sounds like I have to move my desk again to another place in the house. Preferably with doors where she can shut me and my action figures up and let us out only when we don't have visitors.

Anyway, after my travels through the bowels of the Convention Center I was ready to sit down for a while in splendid air conditioning and listen to another writer/director/producer speak. Joss Whedon created a couple of TV shows that I've recently discovered and find quite entertaining - Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. I settled down and let him wax philosophical about his creations, which was very enjoyable.

There were some serious geeknoids in attendance though. Had to laugh at one person who grabbed a mike to ask a question and then started quizzing Whedon on the minutiae of the series. I can't remember the exact questions, as they were on the order of:

"In episode 29 Buffy slammed a wooden stake into the chest of a vampire who was on a mission to find the secret Seal of JoJo the Angry Clown. Now my friends all think that the stake she used was elm, but I am sure it was maple. So my question is, what wood was the stake made of?"

From all appearances he could have continued in this vein for another 20 or 30 hours or so. After the third or fourth question the collected fans started booing him to get him to sit down and let someone else ask a question.

Anyhow, Joss was pretty much as witty in person as his shows' writing has been. I'm not going to go into what he talked about, as it really probably only appeals to fans of the show. But he did make some sly digs at network executives that are always needed, much to the enjoyment of the fans.

At the conclusion of Whedon's talk there was a followup session with many of the writers from the TV series. Unfortunately I found myself deprived for too long of both beers and naps. So I decided to call it a day and toddle on home.

ComicCon. Hmm, would I do this again? I'm pretty sure I would. I got to hear some writers I think highly of. I got to see some movie previews. I got to buy Buffy action figures and a couple of comic books. And most importantly I got to see many, many people dressed, for better or for worse, in their versions of their favorite super or action hero. All in all I had a damn good time. I think I've talked Mary into going next year too.

So if you're into comic books, or genre films or television or you just want to wander around and reflect on humanity in all its glorious insanity - I'd recommend a trip to the ComicCon. Plus, the more money you people spend on this stuff and hotels and restaurants and rental cars, the less likely the city will raise our taxes again. So do your part and keep our taxes low!