General

Heart of Geekness: Returning to the Comic Con

Published

June 25, 2011

Last weekend I was in Philadelphia to meet some friends at Reading Terminal, a world-class food market in the middle of downtown. It’s busy enough being down there on a Saturday afternoon, but there was some extra buzz on the streets.

Darkseid boom-tubed his way onto the sidewalk with Ms. Marvel and Supergirl in tow. A Jedi knight glides past, and there’s Poison Ivy dragging along her little son Batman. The Philadelphia Comic Con was in town at the convention center across the street, and I’d be in there Sunday.

I knew what to expect, but I was a bit gunshy about going since I hadn’t been to a mainstream comic book convention in about 17 years.

(I remember my mom bringing me $15 to buy a Princess Leia action figure. It totally was worth it.) Since then I’ve visited alternative and small-press conventions instead, especially during the years I drew a comic my friend wrote. I like the small-press guys; people working hard for fun and profit, telling their own stories. I didn’t even bring a duffel bag of comics for folks to sign; I read superhero comics, but don’t keep track of who’s who that well any more.

My fiancee came with me. She made a point of wearing “normal” clothes to, as she said, show the fanboys that normal-looking girls go to these things, too. We met up with a pair of friends — one of them the author of the aforementioned comic I drew — who, as Father’s Day presents to themselves, were getting their nerd on at the con.

Soon we were in the crush of people, and we saw the familiar con signposts. A 1960s Batmobile gleaming at the entrance, dozens of comics/toy/poster dealers all selling the same stuff, writers and artists at their tables. The LARPers had their own corner to swing Jedi lightsabers and fix their elf ears and sling Ghostbusters proton packs. And even more fans show up in costumes now, with cosplay being big business and easier than ever. Even I got a photo with the con-obligatory Power Girl.

San Diego ComiCon this ain’t. A Captain America attraction sponsored by Norton Antivirus is the only sniff of the Hollywood superhero movie machine that I see. Green Lantern came out that weekend, but not a green-flamed whiff from the studio. No Cowboys and Aliens, X-Men: First Class, Thor or Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows Part 2, either. If you’re an old-school comics fanboy, you’d be happy at this con.

I spent the most time at the artist tables, after checking out the flashier attractions. Despite being at a place with folks such as Tony Bedard, Ethan Van Sciver, Shane Davis and Mike Grell, I spent the most time hanging with the small-press guys and independent artists. You get to just sit and talk and share in a geek passion (or several) when their art hits your wavelength.

These days I’m really big on “geek art” — sci-fi/pop culture/music stuff done with pop-art flair. Such as Scott Derby’s Green Lantern tattoo (he has this on his arm) and The Young Ones poster, or Ian Glaubinger’s Goonies cereal box, and Dave Perillo’s Wyld Stallyns concert poster. I cold fill my entire house with this stuff, easily, and probably will over time. I got a few things, but nowhere near what I wished I could that day.

There’s always something sad about conventions, too. I walk down the aisles, glancing at artist after artist, and I can feel their eyes on me. Feel the sales pitch coming, their hope to sell something, again and again. That I can like only so much of what I see. And out of all the things I like, I’m buying only a few that day. Or that I don’t really want that topless Lynda Carter-style Wonder Woman painting — or that one, or that one.

And to know that the convention racket is so much harder in this economy. I look around, and the convention definitely is smaller than it used to be. I ran into an old acquaintance at the con, at a table with his art, and it’s definitely rough out there.

I barely went into the area of the celebrity guests. I kept calling it Sad Celebrity Row, seeing folks sitting at the booths waiting for people to remember them and pay for a photo op. Hell, I saw people crowd Margot Kidder’s booth not to talk to her, but to take photos of Billy Dee Williams in the next booth. Lando Calrissian beat out Lois Lane that time. But then you’d see a real fan come up and chat with them, pay the $30 for a signed photo and walk away smiling. And seeing the Walking Dead cast, Clerks‘ Brian O’Halloran, or Pam Grier, all that was pretty cool.

But the best part – the BEST – of going to conventions? That’s worth the lines, the frequent sales pitches, even the depths of Sad Celebrity Row? That I’ll be picking through all the comics and toys I bought for months. I still have a pile from a small-press convention I attended in April. Happy reading, everyone!