Comic-Con without me

Feeling a little sad this weekend. Why? Because this is the first summer since 1994 that Comic-Con International in San Diego is going on without me.

There's a good chance that you've heard of this event by now. Some of you may not have. For that latter group, I recommend you go to Entertainment Weekly's website today or tomorrow, and see how many times you see the words "Comic-Con" on that page and in the big Hollywood stories. Or check CNN.com. Or MSNBC.com, where the first photo on the page right now is from Comic-Con. This should give you an inkling of the popularity of this thing.

And what IS this thing?

Outside the San Diego Convention Center

This is, in short, one of the greatest spectacles you're ever likely to see if you're lucky - and smart - enough to attend. It calls itself a "celebration of the popular arts". While it started small and simple back in San Diego in 1970, a convention focused heavily on comic books (back then it was simply known as the San Diego Comic-Con), it has grown to a four-day event that all but takes over downtown San Diego, with over 100,000 people attending each year (tickets for the event now sell out months in advance), and is the mecca for all things comic, film, television, videogame, card game, science fiction, fantasy, animation, anime, horror, and many other genres of fandom. It fills the ridiculously large San Diego Convention Center from one end to the other. For four days (five, really, since they have "preview night" the night before it all begins, which has essentially turned into another half-day of convention), fans of all that stuff get to check out a mind-boggling array of merchandise, meet and get autographs from celebrities ranging from A-list to obscure-but-embraced, attend a vast array of panels that run the gamut from Hollywood studios (and stars) showing off their upcoming films and TV shows to Q&A talks with popular writers or artists or actors, and just wander like wide-eyed cattle amongst the massive display booths and tables with their video screens and life-sized Batmobiles and pounding bass from massive speakers, while countless others attendees wander by in Stormtrooper, Batgirl and Transformer costumes. While fandom as a whole is divided into many camps - comic fans, Trekkies, Star Wars fanatics, anime junkies, Hollywood star-addicts, Harry Potterheads and Twilight zombies, to name just a very few - this is where they all come together, the United Nations of nerdity.

A very small portion of the convention floor. Notice how long those aisle signs keep going on. The imagine turning around and seeing the same thing going in the other direction.

It used to be a relative secret to the world outside San Diego and fandom. And this always amazed me. Some people go their whole lives waiting to see a celebrity in person. At Comic-Con? For $25 bucks a day (or for free, if you're designated an industry professional like myself), you don't just get to waltz into ballrooms and see household names speak and joke and answer your questions, but you often bump into familiar celebs on the con floor, in the elevator, or just in the john (there is no celebrity loo...they have to pee in the same place as the rest of us). I think it was the year that Halle Berry showed up that the media collectively went "WTF?!", and suddenly, Entertainment Tonight and E! and TMZ were swarming the place. That's when things really took off. Up until just a few years ago, you could just walk up the day of the convention and buy a ticket and walk in. Now, not only are you not getting in if you don't get your badge reserved months in advance, but you're simply NOT going to get a hotel room anywhere within miles of downtown that week unless you plan almost a year in advance. Yes, it's that big.

Some have complained that the Con has "gone Hollywood". I rejoice at this truism. The studios and the TV networks are all there, as are their stars. Halle was a big piece of news at the time, but now those kinds of appearances are the norm. Just this year, on Thursday, Tim Burton was presenting a panel on his upcoming "Alice in Wonderland" film, and in the middle of it brought out a special surprise guest - the film's star, Johnny Depp. Christian Bale has been there more than once. As has Angelina Jolie. Sam Jackson. The list goes on and on. Fans of TV shows are always in for a treat if there's a panel for their favorite program, because often the entire cast shows up for it. The "Lost" panel is always a huge favorite for this reason. If you're a Twitter person and follow celebs, chances are one or more of the stars on your follow list are tweeting about what they're doing at Comic-Con this weekend. "Swingers" star and "Iron Man" director Jon Favreau is on my list, and updated while he was loading up on his minivan and getting ready to drive there, and has updated from the Con floor regularly. My favorite notice thus far has been from Academy Award-wining screenwriter Diablo Cody (of "Juno" fame), who wrote "OH MY F***, I met Stan Lee!" (she added a photo of her and the godfather of comics to the tweet). "Firefly" and "Castle" star Nathan Fillion is home in L.A., but has promised that if his follow list reaches 100,000 by this weekend he's going to pack up the car and head to the Con and meet with fans.



Yes, it's a big Hollywood spectacle (even though it's a couple of hours away from L.A.), but it's so much more to me than that. It's been a staple of my summers since 1990, when I went to my first one, and I've been going as a pro since 1995. I've flown from my homes in Sacramento and Phoenix, and, even better, have simply hopped in my van and driven downtown during my years living in San Diego. It's a place where I get together with old friends, many of whom have moved away. It's our excuse to get together and hang out again, even if it's only once a year. We wander the Con together, attending panels - or often do so separately, attending different panels that meet our individual interests, and keep in touch via text and cell on where we're at and decide where we're meeting after our panels have ended. We walk across the tracks to the Gaslamp downtown together for lunch and drinks and catching up on old times. We get together in the evenings, either at a restaurant or bar or at someone's home (these days it's at Tony's since he's the only one still living in SD). We swap celebrity stories and photos and laugh and debate which new shows or movies look good or look horrible. It's a fantastic time, start to finish. And, yes, it makes me sad that this year, it's going on without me, me being without a job and therefore without any dough. I'm not alone. Many folks I know are in the same boat and just couldn't make it happen this year, so we're all sullenly sitting around our own hometowns, getting emailed photos from Tony of all the familiar sights - Tony, while being lucky enough to be there, is sad himself because he has no buddies to share it all with.

The standard Comic-Con trip these past few years has gone like this: I fly into town, either Tuesday night or Wednesday morning/afternoon. The Con runs officially Thursday through Sunday, but Wednesday, which used to be just the night for pre-registered people to pick up their badges, has become another day of Con since they started opening the floor early for "Preview Night". I get there and either get a rental car, if I'm traveling with someone, or just wait for a pick-up from Tony. We all get our badges. Some people hit the floor and check out Preview Night, but that's never a big thing for me, since I know I'll have four days to see it all, so I don't like to waste it early. There's usually dinner downtown and the initial catching up with the gang - those that have arrived already, that is, as some, due to work or whatever, can't fly in until Thursday or Friday (some of our regulars come from Seattle...Idaho...Iowa...D.C...North Carolina). Then it's off to Tony's house up the freeway, and to my room that Tony's family graciously offers me each year. There's usually two, sometimes three of us staying there. The next morning, it's time to rise, get the backpacks and satchels together, check and make sure you're not leaving your badge behind (you're not getting in without one), and then load up the car and head downtown. We've discovered that the best parking is to hit the lot across from the ballpark (go Padres!) and walk it to the Convention Center. That's the best moment - coming around that corner and seeing the Center - and the streets in front of it filled with countless thousands of Con-goers - and knowing the week is officially about to begin.

Writer/Director/Offender Kevin Smith up on the video screen at one of his panels

In the old days before the internet, the most important part of the night before the Con was getting out the Con schedule of events - the one you get handed when you pick up your badge - and everyone circling all the different panels they want to see, and finding out which ones two or more of us might be attending. But since the web, the schedule is published and updated regularly on the Con site, and plans can be made before even leaving for San Diego. Some of us don't even bother with the paper schedule, mostly, as we cut and past our panel lists and info into our PDAs. So the great Con experience begins as we either split off or group up for panels, or wander the floor to check out the booths together. I laugh, now, wondering how we used to manage to coordinate in the old days, before cell phones. Back then, we picked a meeting place (it became the DC Comics booth, as that big logo is easy to spot), and would set a time at the end of the day when everyone would group up and meet, and the arrangement that if anyone wanted to find each other, people would drop by the booth at the top of each hour and see if anyone else was there. Now? Coordination is a snap, and even among all those thousands, we're always able to know where our other pals are if we want to track them down.

The best part about this event for me, as a writer, is the inspiration. It's a chance to see booth after booth, table after table, filled with creators and the comics, books or films they make. You realize, there, that despite all your fears about making it and getting something produced, that there are plenty of people doing just that, and seeing what they're doing really sparks your own imagination. It's also a great networking place. There are a number of artists I've talked to, year after year, who know me by name (even without the badge). And the panels are the biggest inspiration. I've taken writing seminars from some of the biggest names in comics over the years (Chris Claremont, Peter David). There are panels made up of numerous writers that answer questions for upcoming writers, and their insight is priceless. I never miss a panel by comics guru Scott McCloud, whose panel on web comics years back inspired me to start the "Nice Guy" web site. And it's not just comics. It's screenwriters and filmmakers, too. One of my favorite moments back in my early years, back when you could just wander into a panel room without waiting in a line, was an hour-long panel with John Carpenter talking about his films and filmmaking in general. Another can't-miss panel each year is from my creative hero, Joss Whedon ("Buffy", "Angel", "Firefly", "Dollhouse"), and those are always more fun when he's in the middle of producing something, as he often brings stars along with him. One of most memorable Con moments ever was after "Firefly" had been canceled, and the "Serenity" big-screen continuation was announced, and he brought the entire cast with him right from the filming location.

An example of what it looks like inside one of the panel rooms. This is only the left side of the room.

I tend to miss a lot of the "big" stuff, on purpose. Most of these events are held in the massive "Hall H", where the big Hollywood things happen, and there are often people lined up outside it the whole night before. They're just too crowded and complicated for me (though I do go to some). One of the craziest ones, for example, I completely avoided - the "Twilight" panel with the writer, the film's director, and the whole cast. I watched video on the web of it later, and it was like a Beatles concert in there, with thousands of screaming, bawling teenage girls. I do make my way in there each year for the never-to-be-missed Kevin Smith panels, always the most entertaining (and foul-mouthed) panel each year. Often you'll find yourself going into a panel early there just to make sure you've got a seat for the panel that comes after, and I often enjoy the irony of me showing up in the middle of a Nicholas Cage talk, just waiting for him to shut up and get off stage so the panel I'm really interested in (usually with much lesser-known stars) can begin.

I'm more about the smaller stuff, my favorite things. When it was announced that there was a panel for HBO's brilliant but little-known sketch show, "Mr. Show", with stars Bob Odenkirk and David Cross hosting it, I was all over it, and loved the fact that I was sitting right behind "Lord of the Rings" star Elijah Wood, who was just there as a Mr. Show fan. As a fan of David Boreanez (of "Angel"), I decided to go to the panel introducing his new show, "Bones". With both him and co-star Emily Deschanel there with us, we got to watch the pilot episode months before the show's release, and the star answered questions about it afterward. I've been introduced to a lot of popular shows like this over the years.

A lot of my celebrity moments, and there have been many, are lost on a lot of people, but have meant a lot to me. Running into "Quantum Leap" star Scott Bakula in an elevator (one of many elevator moments I've had, including being kicked out of one so Mark Hamill's handlers could get him "safely" up to a panel). Talking with Go-Gos bass-player Jane Wiedlin while she ate her lunch. Getting web-sales advice from 70s Battlestar Galactica star Richard Hatch. Shaking hands with James Hong, best-known (to me) for playing David Lo-Pan in "Big Trouble in Little China". Standing next to my buddy A.T. in the pro registration line when he turned around too quickly and ran right into the chest of the "Incredible" Lou Ferrigno. Also with A.T., meeting the comic book chick from "The Real World: Miami". Those are just the actual meet-'em moments. There are countless ones where I didn't want to be annoying and talk to celebs (but should have), as I sat next to Danny Bonaduce, had Neil Patrick Harris almost bump into me, and watched some of my favorite modern film guys - Judd Apatow, Seth Rogen and "Superbad" Jonah Hill - walk right past me. I really should have talked to Mr. T. (I pity me, fool!), but opted for just videotaping him instead. I had the aforementioned Nathan Fillion sitting on the floor right next to me during a Whedon panel, and felt like a failure for not saying hello to one of my favorite actors, but luckily got to meet him later at the "Serenity" world premire in Hollywood (great guy).

Yeah, baby, I hung out with Ponch!

The celebs are literally everywhere. Some are just there for their event or autograph signing, some are just wandering the floor seeing the sights, some are outside smoking and talking with fans. You could wander the streets of L.A. for months and not see so many of them. It's a hell of a thing. And it's funny, to me, how it's become so normal for me. I was once sitting at a table up on the upper level, outside and under the sun, having a cigar and relaxing with a few of my buddies. Brent "Mr. Data" Spiner came walking by on the way to a panel. My buddy Russ said, "Hey, Spiner." Spiner smiled and said "Hey, how's it going?" We all casually nodded and said "Good", and he went on his way, and we went back to smoking. There's this weird connection that that just makes you feel like the Con is the celebrity, and all of us, famous and not famous, are just there to see it together.

One of my favorite years was the one year I got to BE one of the celebrities (kind of). This was the one year that Tim and I got ourselves a "Nice Guy" table on the Con floor, and spent our five days behind it, pushing our comic, making new fans, and even finding a fan or two we already had (?!). We didn't get to see much of the Con that year - we only allowed ourselves two panels each, and separately, because one of us always had to be behind the table - but it was a great experience in and of itself. After all those years attending, I finally got to see what the behind-the-scenes stuff looked like, watching - while setting up our table - as all the big companies moved forklifts around to set up their booths. That, and the camaraderie of getting to meet many other cool independent comic creators, made it an awesome experience. We'll have to do that again one of these years...if we ever get our second comic done.

But, alas, no table and no new celebrity stories for me this summer. No flirting with Xena's gorgeous stuntwoman (yes, I did). No sitting with thousands through another Battlestar panel with Edward James Olmos and listening to him go on about the coming pandemic (?). No buying tee shirts that I just HAD to have, only to realize, after getting home, that I'd never wear such a shirt in public (and yet would end up buying a similar one the next year). No grabbing up as many movie poster postcards as I can find (a hobby of mine). No meeting awesome, enthusiastic alternative comic creators, the generation still coming up in the biz. No heading up and down Artist's Alley and getting sketches done by some of my favorite pencilers throughout the years. No spending $12.oo for a sandwich, chips and a drink up on the mezzanine level because of being too lazy or pressed for time to walk to the Gaslamp for a reasonably-priced meal. No hilarious lunches with the guys at Dick's Last Resort. No sitting down for dinner at an Italian place and realizing Mr. Chekhov is at the next table. No Jean Claude Van Damme showing up the floor and causing a near fan-riot. No girl at the costume contest losing her top up on stage, allowing 95% of the crowd the near-religious experience of seeing real boobies for the first time. No Sunday night wind-down on Tony's back porch with stogies and Guinness, reflecting on another amazing Comic-Con experience, and another great few summer days spent with old friends.

Me and some of our regulars - Tony, A.T. and Russ - relaxing outside between panels

No, this summer I'm home, sweating in the Sacramento heat, waiting on Tony's latest emailed photos from the Convention Center. It's a sad thing, true, but it's really okay. I've been very fortunate to have been able to keep showing up, year after year, through flush times and tough ones. I figure I'm due for a year off. But next year marks the 20th anniversary of our trip together to the Con, so you can be sure, one way or the other, that I'll be there - wearing my badge (but remembering to take it off before going to lunch to avoid looking like a nerd even though the entire CITY is filled with nerds), filling my backpack with purchases, roaming the autograph area to meet celebrities from my youth (Erin Gray is still looking good), waiting in numerous lines (but bypassing many by playing the wheelchair card), and getting my quality time with my old gang.

Next summer, San Diego. I'll be there.

And hopefully, Xena's double will be, too.

Oh, come on...you'd have flirted with her, too...

ADDENDUM: Just as I finished writing this thing, I decided to check email before completing and uploading it. I found two mails from Tony...with two pieces of video he recorded. The first was one with those actual "Nice Guy" fans I mentioned - the amazing Suzi, who got me and Tony in to the "Serenity" premiere in 2005. Tony ran into her this afternoon at the Con and recorded a message from her to me, reminding me I need to be there next year, and "no excuses!". That was awesome. And the second was addressed to all of us buddies who couldn't be there with Tony this year. Tony had just gotten out of the panel for the upcoming ABC remake of "V", and he stopped the cast of the show on their way out and explained that his friends had backed out and hadn't made it this year, and recorded a message from three of them (including actress Morena Baccarin, best-known for "Firefly" and "Serenity", whom Tony and I had met at the "Serenity" after-party) telling us that we should have made it, and that we'd better make it next year. And, of course, reminding us to watch "V". I think Tony just nicely, and amazingly, made my whole point of this writing for me. This stuff only happens at Comic-Con, folks. Do like the aliens from "V" say to do...and come to Comic-Con!

P.S. A tweet from Tony: Overheard at Comic-Con: "I just saw Bon Jovi in the mens' room." Probably true.