Comic-Kaze Vacation

It's been a week since my last post 'cause I'm currently soaking up the vibe in sunny San Diego, California. Okay, that was a lie. I'm not really taking in the real flavor of this metropolis because I've spent a chunk of time ensconced in our hotel room with the boy. His nap schedule's all wonky since we are enjoying a different time zone out here on the left coast. This means we can't really have him out and about all day because the ensuing histrionics would ensure that none of us -- the boy, me, or my babydaddy -- could have fun. So, when we're not out together, one of us takes a shift in the room with the boy while the other takes in a local attraction.

Notice I wrote a local attraction. What might that wondrous spectacle be? The San Diego Zoo, with which we all became familiar during the opening credits of the Priscilla Barnes years of Three's Company? Nope. Sea World, home to famed fish Shamu? Strike two. We are here to partake in the nerdly raptures offered by the world-famous San Diego Comic-Con.

Don't tell me you've not heard of the Con? How could that be? It is both Mecca and Medina to the throngs of comic book fans populating this globe of ours. Alright, I know that I'm putting forth a decidedly snarky tone. But seriously, once you've yoked yourself with the ID badge emblazoned with the Con's logo, you have to mock it...or become a part of it.

See, the raw enthusiasm and creative energy around the joint is intoxicating. Seriously, surround yourself with enough Marvel supplicants and you really, really think that you NEED all seven versions of that new Spider-Man t-shirt. And that hovering over seventy-two long boxes of comic books might result in the discovery of a treasure on par with King Tut's tomb (maybe, just maybe, you'll unearth a mint copy of Action Comics #1, and the dealer won't have a clue about it's value!). And that Bruce Campbell, Joss Whedon, Matt Groening, and innumerable other Con demigods are going to be your pals after you attend one of their panel discussions.

Is all of the hair on your body standing upright? Are chills shuttle sprinting up and down your back? Are you melting with jealousy that I'm here and you are not?

You can probably hear the desperation in my jeering. If I don't do something drastic, I'll soon be slipping, tumbling, falling into a canyon of geekdom without a grappling hook I can use to claw my way back out.

Damn. It's too late. I'm there, and I like it. See you on the dark side; I'm going to hang out with the 300-pound Storm Trooper.