Conapalooza: Sarah's San Diego Report

Conapalooza: Sarah's San Diego Report

Aug 01

Everything you’ve heard, read, or otherwise ingested about San Diego Comic-Con ’06 is true. It was hot, it was loud, it was hours of body-surfing through a sprawling crowd of nerdery in order to score the elusive Nemesis Prime.

It was also, somehow, fun. Half-price graphic novels were purchased, panels were attended, and friends were miraculously spotted amongst the heaving throngs of bright yellow, Dark Horse-emblazoned plastic bags.

I had a fantastic time, but my feelings on the insane growth of the con are decidedly mixed. On the one hand, how great is it that folks are turning up in droves for something called “San Diego Comic-Con?” And isn’t it nifty that the crowd was so diverse, and that such a broad range of tastes was reflected on the exhibitor floor? On the other, the con is now most definitely a Big Mainstream Event — no two ways about it — and in addition to the uncomfortable, crowded sweatiness, there’s something about that notion that feels…well, strange. A friend told me that he knows several people with no interest whatsoever in genre-type things who went to SDCC “just because.” Which…fine, but are they going to gawk at us geek freaks? Or because it is a Big Mainstream Event that is not to be missed? Or what?

I guess what I’m saying is that it’s now cool to do SDCC. And not just cool in a “all of the people in my D&D game are going” kind of way. It’s officially cool on a Regular Person level. And though I love the idea of geekdom expanding and diversifying and becoming a more welcoming place in general, that’s still a knotty concept to wrap my nerdly little head around. I would be a bit sad, it must be said, if the con were to ultimately become too cool. If I suddenly start hearing how “Sundance is OK, but Comic-Con is where the real parties are” or I’m not greeted with at least a few derisive snickers from my Regular People, non-genre-loving friends when I mention that I’m going, then I’ll know things have gone too far.

I just want the whole shebang to continue to be a magical place for geeks of all stripes to gather — a place where dressing up like Storm or a Stormtrooper is to be admired, where comics continuity is to be argued with gusto, where we can all wear our “Joss is My Master Now” tees in peace.

In other words, SDCC: hooray for expansion, but don’t go gettin’ too cool for the nerds who have been down with you all along.

That said, on with the report!

FRIDAY
Early a.m. – 1:45 p.m.: Husband Jeff and I are hell-bent on getting down there in time for the Battlestar Galactica panel. Well, OK — I’m the one who is the hell-bent-est. NOTHING is going to keep me from seeing PRESIDENT EFFING ROSLIN. We zip down to SD, check in to our hotel, and hop the train to the Convention Center. Also on our train: Batman and Robin, V for Vendetta, and some pervy guy in a basketball jersey. Pre-registration makes check-in a breeze. We grab a disgustingly overpriced croissant and get in the line for BSG. The “line” is really more of a “big, fat crush of humanity.” Someone finally gets the handy idea of putting up a velvet rope, so it is a cordoned off big, fat crush of humanity. I can’t see outside of the throng of people and am smooshed next to two Jedi discussing the merits of “light Sith.” And so it begins.

2:00 p.m.: Why aren’t they letting us in?

2:10 p.m.: Officious Convention-goer #374 pushes her way out of the crowd, proclaiming that the room is “TOTALLY full” and that people have been “camped OUT” since ass-early in the morning. What?! If I don’t get my President Roslin, I will CRY.

2:16ish p.m.: Finally, the doors whoosh open and the throngs pour in! Officious Convention-goer #374 was totally LYING.

2:17ish p.m.: The panel starts! Where’s Mary McD?

2:17ish p.m. – 3 p.m.: Gar. Mary McD = NOT THERE. Well. At least we get Adama, Baltar, Tyrol and D’Anna Biers/Xena. And Ron D. Moore and David Eick. Lucy Lawless, by the way, looks fantastic. She’s all dressed in white and blonde and pretty. Edward James Olmos agrees with me and says, “You’re so beautiful… How come Adama never gets any Cylon?” A few things of note said during the panel: season 3 picks up four months after season 2, the occupation is in full swing, and one character is “missing a vital part of his anatomy.” OK?

3:15 p.m. – 5:30ish p.m.: We head down to the floor and meet up with my friend Carissa, her Simpsons toy collector husband David, and her stepson Gabe. Gabe is chillin’ at the World of Warcraft booth. Carissa — a first-timer at SDCC — looks like she wants to beat the sweaty masses of geeks with her rolled-up WoW poster. Jeff and I wind up and down the aisles for a time, an activity that quickly turns into a Death March.

5:30 – 7ish p.m.: We re-meet up with Team Carissa and have dinner at Whiskey Girl. I don’t know if it’s just because I haven’t consumed anything all day except for that frakkin’ croissant, but my Whiskey Girl burger is easily THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER EATEN. It’s so fucking good. David shows us the giant vinyl Cartman (complete with Clyde-frog) that he picked up. We dazedly discuss the enormity of the con and the crowd this year and debate whether or not this will affect our future attendance. David notes that he’s exhausted now, but once he gets home, all he’ll think about is how happy he is that he got a giant Cartman and how much fun Gabe had playing at the WoW booth. And thus, once more unto the breach.

7ish p.m.: We bid Team Carissa adieu and stumble through the Gaslamp Quarter in search of our train. Suddenly, it’s as if the heavens part and a choir of clunky-bespectacled angels are singing a bunch of Weezer songs, for right in front of us, clear as day, is our old friend Shorn. We’re so happy to see each other that we all collide in an awkward, joyous three-person hug. After a bit of con chit-chat, Shorn has to hustle off to a screening (“Is that the movie theater? No? God damn fucking Ghirardelli thing that looks like a movie theater!!”), so we say our farewells and head back to the hotel.

SATURDAY
11:30 a.m. – 1:30 p.m.: After all the claustrophonic insanity encountered in the BSG line, I have seriously cut down on my panel time. I skip out on Lost to wander the floor and eat a convention hot dog (which, surprisingly, is rather tasty. Go, Hebrew National!). I blind buy the Rose and Isabel graphic novels based on their kickass cover art, and fight my way through the UglyDoll booth to buy a mini-Moxy and a mini-Jeero. The new line at this year’s con consists of your regular Uglys with all-black fur. Jeff thinks they look weird.

2 p.m. – 3 p.m.: It’s Terry Time! Terry Moore does the one-person panel thing, and discusses the end of Strangers in Paradise and what’s up next for him. “I think my characters are getting tired of me…” he says, of SiP. “Katchoo is rarely nice to me any more.” Terry notes that the idea of doing another comics series appeals to him, that he still wants to self-publish, and that his next project will likely be in color. As for SiP making it into the movie arena, he tells us that he did have a very nice meeting with director Angela Robinson, who is a big fan of the comic. He thinks that if it were to be translated into another medium, however, a TV series would work better than a film. No one asks about The Ten Year Gap, and I can’t really think of how to make it into a coherent, less-than-10-minute question. Drat.

3:30 p.m. – 4:30 p.m.: In order to avoid the BSG-esque crush of yesterday, I position myself in the Veronica Mars room during the prior panel. It’s basically a TV Guide-hosted deal about some of the current successful genre shows and the small screen sci-fi boom. It’s got some terrific panelists — Bryan Fuller, who I adore, and the awesome Jorge Garcia, just to name a couple — but I can’t help but feel this panel isn’t quite aimed at the SDCC crowd. The mod, Craig Tomashoff, is TV Guide’s West Coast bureau chief, and he does a good job, but the tone is kind of like, “Hey, so there’s actual characterization in sci-fi now — what’s that all about?!” A couple of the panelists seem confused like, “Well, the best genre shows have always had good characterization. Duh?” (Note: totally paraphrasing in both cases, if it’s not obvious.) Not a bad panel, just seems like it would have been a better fit at a different event — most of the folks sitting in this room already know that good sci-fi has always meant much more than bang-boom-crash and cool lookin’ spaceships. Incidentally, it is during this panel that I spot my old StarTrek.com pal Sandy Stone, snapping photos like the ace reporter that he is. After some frantic texting (“i don’t see u,” “look 2 ur left,” etc), we manage to meet and chat for a bit and he clues me in to this.

4:30 p.m. – 5:30 p.m.: Veronica Mars, Veronica Mars, Veronica Mars!! On hand: Kristen Bell, creator Rob Thomas, Jason Dohring, Francis Capra, Ryan Hansen, Michael Muhney and Enrico Colantoni. Kristen is completely adorable in a blousy white top, skinny, high-waisted black skirt, and “I Brake For Wookiees” bumper stickers emblazoned on her chest and butt. She later explains that they’re to promote Fanboys. Nice! As previously announced, the show will have three separate mystery arcs this season, and the first will be the serial rapist storyline. Michael M. and Tina Majorino are now series regulars. Alia Shawkat is booked for ep 4 and Charisma Carpenter will appear in ep 1. There will also be two new characters: Mac’s roomie Parker (Julie Gonzalo, Justin Long’s cheerleader love from Dodgeball) and Wallace’s roomie Piz (Chris Lowell from Life as We Know It). There are many quotey quotes, but perhaps the quote-iest (at least according to my inner 12-year-old) comes from Ryan. When asked what effects younger bro Beaver’s death will have on his character, he notes, “I don’t think [Dick] realized how much he actually loves Beaver.”

5:30 – 6:30ish: Con floor wandering. I stop by the Oni booth and snag Hope Larson‘s Gray Horses (which is wonderful) and a replacement copy of one of my favoritest tomes of all time, Chynna Clugston‘s Blue Monday: The Kids Are Alright. And Happy Day! Chynna is there to sign it!

6:30ish – 9ish p.m.: Me and Husband Jeff and our good pals John Charles and Katherine gather for a tasty dinner at Acqua Al 2. Much attention is paid to shoveling as much food into our mouths as quickly as possible. I think at some point I go off on a delirious rant about Kate Bosworth’s hair in Superman Returns (“How about some bangs? A few highlights?! Something!!”). Katherine has picked up a bunch of cool swag, including a t-shirt with a cute soy-related cartoon on it. After dinner, J.C. and K head back for L.A. and we debate hooking up with Shorn or Sandy or both. After a few rounds of text messaging, we all decide we’re too fucking tired. Yay! Look at the old people!

SUNDAY
10:30 – 11:30 a.m.: More overpriced croissant consumption, and then it’s on to the con floor. I dig through some half-price bins (Husband Jeff has already scored quite a few good titles, including Seven Soldiers Vol. II and Hellboy Vol. III) and end up buying a collected edition of the new Excalibur for a mere $5. Being an old-skool Excalibur buff, I’m eager to see what the new stuff is like.

11:30 a.m. – 12:30 p.m.: Spotlight on the lovely Gail Simone. Gail is very gracious and cool and answers lots of Qs from the audience — including one from someone dressed like a Cassandra Cain-style Batgirl. This cracks me up for some reason — maybe because the black head-stocking makes the person look like they have no mouth. It’s kind of like when Buttercup decided she wanted to be “Mange.” Gail’s upcoming book, Tranquility, is about a superhero retirement home and sounds kickass. And it looks like I didn’t actually write down any complete quotes from this session. I was beat, y’all. Go here for a more info-packed report.

12:30 p.m. – 3 p.m.: After a delightfully peaceful lunch at Dussini, we do one last pass through the con floor, taking an especially detailed look at the small and indie press areas. One booth is selling their dinged graphic novel stock by the pound, so Jeff gets some Metabarons and I snag The Complete Wynonna Earp, which I have been eager to read since Ragnell’s hearty recommendation. I also cruise by Raina Telgemeier’s booth and pick up The Babysitters Club, which she graciously signs and sketches in, as well as some of her mini-comics. I am a bit starstruck, being in the presence of Raina Telgemeier, and I think I may have said something impressively dumb. I don’t remember exactly what, but I imagine it was along the infamous lines of “LEAHERADEZ!” Brilliant.

After a bit more wandering, we decide we’re conned out and hit the road. Another con over and done, a few more bucks gone from my wallet, and a touch of indigestion brought on by all the croissant/hot dog consumption.

Who’s ready for 2007?