Greetings!
I’ve just returned
from the northern metropolis that is Spokane, Washington. The hard streets of
Spokane needed a hero; someone to fight evil and stand up as a shining beacon
of strength and decency. Maybe not the hero they deserved, but at least one
they needed. I was not that person. I drove up in my so-normal-it’s-nearly-invisible
Honda Civic, set up my table, made polite and unassuming conversation, and then
quietly left at the end of the day. But at the end of that day, I knew I had
made a difference to the city of Spokane. Because I paid $10 to park there and
that money goes to the city. Unless that garage was privately owned, in which
case I made no difference whatsoever.
Also when I left I had
to drive around a bit because I couldn’t find the highway onramp. I feel like
that’s not something heroes do. It’s not even something moderately-competent
people do. But there we are.
I was there for one
thing and one thing only: The 10th Anniversary Lilac City Comicon.
More specifically, I attended said comicon to hock my wares like a sullen,
crooked-toothed Brit selling pewter teapots on Portobello Road (it should be
noted that my only experience with said road and market is from the movie
“Bedknobs and Broomsticks”, but I remember the song being pretty good and I’ll
watch anything with Angela Lansbury in it).
Here’s what my table
looked like:
I had never been to a
comicon before yesterday, so I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. My
preconceived notions pretty much all came from TV and movie stereotypes of
comicons; unwashed hordes of overweight, fishbelly-pale single men shuffling
around, pushing up coke bottle glasses and debating through excess-spittle
lisps about whether DC or Marvel has better comics. And, to be fair, there were
a few of those in attendance.
But mostly, there
were people of just about every stripe, excited to be around their tribe. Some
of them were super hip-looking, attractive, and looked like they spent a lot of
time in the gym. I was not one of those, either. If I wanted to break out into
a sweat and feel bad about myself, I’d just re-file my tax return.
I have a confession:
I know you probably think I’m the coolest guy in the entire world. I know I do.
But it turns out I’m closer to the TV stereotype of a comicon goer than I am to
the suave, debonair, James Bond-like image I’m sure you have of me. I’d be a dead ringer for James Bond if James
Bond never killed, punched, or insulted anyone, if he slouched and dressed a
little dumpy, and if he were played by Don Knotts.
But there’s at least
one place where I walk with confidence and even bravado: Nerdville. The
Nerdosphere can sometimes (unfortunately) be more snobbish and exclusive than a
country club run by Robin Leach. Fortunately, I carry my nerd credentials
around with me at all times, like a scarlet letter made of useless pop-culture
references and obscure trivia. Don’t believe me?
-I can quote eight
seasons’ worth of episodes of “The Simpsons”. Almost verbatim.
-I get genuinely
excited about Ken Burns documentaries.
-I have seen every
single episode of “Star Trek: The Next Generation”.
-I used to go to Star
Trek conventions. In costume.
-I have a Lieutenant
Worf Commemorative plate.
-Oh, also I spent
nine years writing and illustrating this dorky book called “Saturday”. That
one’s a duesy.
Hold on a sec, I have
to fend off ladies with a pointy stick.
So, in spite of
having never been to this specific area code of Nerdville, I’ve lived in the
city limits my whole life. Here are my observations of this particular corner:
-It’s hard to feel
out of place at a comicon.
-Not knowing a lot of
the cos-play characters made me feel old, like going to the grocery store and
no longer recognizing any of the celebrities on the covers of gossip magazines.
But the costumes were, for the most part, RAD. My favorite was the person
dressed as Barf from “Spaceballs” (again, because I’m old). You can see a bunch
of the costumes here:
http://www.ifindcosplay.com/Cosplay/Lilac-City-Comic-Con-2016/
-There are TON of
talented people in the world.
-Sometimes I wasn’t
sure if a person was in costume or not.
I’m not sure I’ll be
a regular at comicons. I don’t know if “Saturday” fits there or not. But I was
happy to sit at my table amongst a sea of tables full of cool stuff made by
interesting people; the evidence of their strange and wonderful excitement and
myopic pursuit of the stuff they love. Surrounded by people similarly disposed
to love weird and obscure things. Some of them dressed to the nines and looking
for all the world like a very large group of misfits who have shed the polo
shirts and khaki pants of their mild-mannered, normal person disguises and
donned their freak flags.
It was neat-o. That’s
all I’m saying.
Cheers.
No comments:
Post a Comment