My husband loves Comic-Con, which if you don’t know is a yearly event here in San Diego in which an ever increasing number of people ranging from normal to deranged descend upon San Diego for the weekend. It started out as a comics thing, but it’s expanded and exploded to a Hollywood event with TV stars, movie stars, and famous authors appearing for insanely crowded panel sessions on such topics as “Creating the Dothraki language” and a meet and greet with the guy who plays Masuka on Dexter.
It sounds fun, if you’re into that sort of thing. I went for a day last year and although I couldn’t bring myself to wait in line for 4 hours for any of the sessions, the shopping was fun as long as you stayed away from the booths where they were giving things away for free. That got ugly real fast.
Inside, mass chaos for the expanse of the Convention Center.
I couldn’t be bothered to look up what was going on and who was going to be where so we just wandered. It was fun to happen upon Grover interviewing Sailor Moon:
I was amazed watching the puppeteer. He had a monitor in front of him so he was watching Grover and the interviewee with his head pointed away from them, but he could effortlessly maneuver Grover so he was fluidly interacting with her the whole time.
Only here would a Star Trek officer battle a LOTR troll.
And like last year, I found myself gravitating towards the artist section. More interesting and less crowded, more dogs and less people elbowing each other to get the latest GI Joe limited edition doll.
And man, was it crowded. And Thursday is the least busy day.
But for a bunch of people who say they identify with the Secret Super Hero thing, I found the overall chivalry level lacking. What I did see were grown men using their bulk to edge little kids out of the way at the Build Your Own whatever thing at the Lego booth, lots of shoving, and a disturbing number of people who thought burping in a crowded room was hysterical.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, there’s a difference between putting on your superhero costume and putting on your super hero costume, if you know what I mean.
And it’s my own fault for immersing myself so deeply in what I’ve been writing about for the last week, but my head and my heart are still 100% vested in this project I just completed, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how weird it was that I was in Africa just a couple weeks ago having a mind blowing experience, and now I am here getting farted on by some guy in a Wolverine costume and I can’t escape because I’m inside a wall of flesh. And that I had been thinking to myself, “Nerds! These are my people!” but when I got there, and saw them in their polyester costumes being so ugly to one another, I had second thoughts about who my people might be.
And I just wanted to go outside and get some air, preferably on another continent.
My pass is good through the weekend, so I need to give it another shot, and see if there is a little bit of humanity there under all that Spandex and special edition plastic. My friend Nancy just posted a picture of her sitting next to George R.R. Martin, and you Game of Thrones people know how I feel about him, so I know there are good experiences to be had. I guess I’m just hanging out in the wrong exhibit halls.