Long-time GoD contributor and San Diego Comic-Con ’08 correspondent Neverwanderer gives the play by play of his very first San Diego Comic-Con experience this past July.

“The San Diego Convention Center is so huge that if you were to stand at one end of the exhibit hall and face the room, you couldn’t see the other end because of the curvature of the Earth.”
-William O’Neil, Co-Creator of Violent Messiahs

“NO! I’m not going to “˜sand eggo.’ I get twitchy just thinking about SDCC! I’ll be home watching the Sex & the City movie.”
-Brian Michael Bendis, Writer of Secret Invasion, among many, many others…

“Nerd Prom! NERD PROM!!!”
-Comic-Con Attendee

Friday, July 25 (In which we make the trip down to San Diego along freeways previously rumored to be backed up for miles…)

3:28 PM

Got a late start this morning.

We’re on the 15 right now, driving down to San Diego. We’ve got our random traveling mix CD’s on rotation in the rental car’s stereo system — right now, Nine Inch Nails’ “Where Is Everybody” — serving as a sound track to the rows of brush-covered hills around us.

I’ve only been to San Diego once before, as a surprise birthday trip for my wife (“Surprise! You’re driving us to San Diego! Happy Birthd– honey? Honey, where’re you going”¦?”). During that trip, the new surroundings mixed with my creative juices to give birth to possibly the coolest, most epic story idea I’ve ever come up with. I won’t lie and say that I’m not hoping for a little of that old magic to happen again.

We just passed a Chick-Fil-A on the side of the road (the second one so far) and I suddenly wish I had access to the internet so I could go on the Bendis Board and taunt the Man himself with this knowledge. It’s a desperate thought. The kind that heralds the coming of a long, suffering boredom, from which there may be little salvation until we reach our destination. Thank god I have my laptop.

My wife, on the other hand, has just started singing out the names of things we see as we drive (“Traaaactor! It’s a tractorrrrr, yeah!” “Mi-ni-a-ture- GOLF COOUUURRRSE!”).

I fear she may not make it.

3:51 PM

The hills have suddenly and miraculously turned green around us.

Have we entered into another dimension?

Is this what Heaven is?

4:00 PM

Just passed under our favorite bridge.

Am starting to think this may be the lamest article ever to grace the pages of Geeks of Doom.

Hurm.

5:00 PM

We arrive in sunny San Diego much sooner than I anticipated and get ourselves settled into our little cheapo no-tell motel (which happens to share a parking lot with a Hooters“¦ no, really). I tell my wife to think of it like we’re camping.

Jury is still out on whether or not she’ll divorce me.

We’ll see what the morning brings.

For now, though, it’s ONWARD TO COMIC CON!!!

6:40 PM

I am standing in the convention hall, staring at a writhing mass of bodies, wondering what the hell I’ll do with myself. My wife is tugging on my arm, looking for guidance. I have no guidance to give her.

I’ve been to conventions before, but never have I experienced something on this grand a scale.

And I’m only just past the preregistration desks.

They’re out of lanyards.

I think I may cry.

7:28 PM

I am standing outside the convention center amidst a writhing of mass bodies, all seeking shelter from the cold the closing convention center has pushed them out into.

I am also starting to write like a pulp novelist”¦ this is not a good sign.

I have a grand total of two phone numbers to call; people who I’ve never met before, but who I promised I would contact as soon as I arrived.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m praying against all likelihood that one of them will say, “Why, I’m just getting out of the convention myself! Let’s get together and have dinner!” The first person answers the phone”¦ he’s already left the convention, but promises to meet up some time tomorrow.

Somewhat deflated, I text message the second person. Again, a promise to meet up tomorrow.

My wife is looking at me, expectantly, hungry. Food.

Where can we get food?

The only thing in sight is a Roy’s Hawaiian Fusion, which is so expensive, I’m losing money just talking about it.

We’re tired. We’re sweaty. We’re hungry. We’re ready to go home.

It has only been an hour.

8:30 PM

A screaming throng of gay men and women on bicycles comes careening down 5th Avenue on their way to the Hyatt, halting traffic completely. We’re lucky enough to NOT be on the train tracks when this happens.

A grinning Brian Posein and Patton Oswalt cross the street, weaving their way between cyclists and passing right in front of our car.

They do not look hungry.Ӭ

8:47 PM

Traffic is moving again.

9:45 PM

We’ve decided to forego barhopping with the guys from the Bendis Board in favor of a night of foot soaking and, more importantly, sleep.

We are old and un-fun.

10:30 PM

We can not, however, pass up the opportunity to end the night with drinks and pie at the Hooters next to our hotel. My wife notices our server’s ass before I do, and I’m reminded of why I married her.

Drinks and pie, and everything is all right”¦

Until tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday, July 26 (In which the plan is to get up at 7:30 to make our way to the convention center early”¦)

10:15 AM

We’re leaving our hotel.

If there’s anything I learned yesterday, it’s that you must have a goal. In ANY convention you must have a goal, but in Comic-Con especially. If you come to Comic Con with no planning, no forethought”¦ you’re doomed. There’s simply too much to see, too much to do. It’s a huge psychological and sensory overload, unless you create a plan for yourself. Give yourself goals and you will never find yourself asking the question, “Well what do I do now?”

Today, my goal was to see three panels: Dave Gibbons’ Watching the Watchmen, Grant Morrison & Gerard Way’s Born Under a Black Sun, and the Spotlight on J. Michael Straczynski.

We’re a half hour away from the convention center right now”¦ There’s no way I’m going to make the Gibbons panel.

12:10 PM

Trying to find parking ANYwhere near the Convention Center is sort of like drawing your ragged fingernails across a chalkboard that keeps suddenly making you jam on the brakes while screaming “LOT FULL! LOT FULL!”

12:45 PM

And now a word of advice for those of you foolish enough to attempt to drive to the convention before dawn: There is hope!

We ended up finding $10 public parking near the waterfront area further down Harbor Street, in front of the Midway Museum. Apparently, this is a parking option most people haven’t resorted to by this time of day, so be sure to snag a spot there while you can! It’s the huge grey aircraft carrier-turned-tourist-attraction off to your left if you’re driving away from the convention center– can’t miss it!

After that, we catch a pedi-cab (bicycle-pulled two-person carriages that swarm around the convention center with the ubiquity of a biblical plague), and five minutes later, we have arrived!

Can I go home yet”¦?

1:30 PM

Okay. Rough morning. But we’ve finally got ourselves in vaguely the right headspace to enjoy the rest our day. My wife is off wandering the exhibit hall while I sit on line for the Morrison/Way panel.

Funny thing about the long lines at conventions”¦ I think they are self-perpetuating. Think about it. The only reason ANY of us gets on line early for ANYthing is because of all the horror stories we’ve heard about those huge lines that stretch all the way around the block. So, people hear these stories, and in fits of paranoia, they run to the exhibit hall/movie theater two hours early just so they can make sure they’re not going to miss out.

So the rest of us see these people sitting on line two hours early, and that makes US freak out and WE get on line early because, “People are on line already?! Oh no! We’ll never get in!”

And before long, there’s this HUGE line stretching around the block, all because ONE person was so desperate to be first.

So, the next time you start to worry about missing out on a panel, or a movie, or a music release just because you didn’t get there early enough… why not consider that YOU could be the cause of that long, long line.

Think about that.

And while you’re doing that, I’ll be getting my perfect seat because I was the first one there.

Sucker.

2:15 PM

My seat is procured and I am ready for the crazy, zany world of Grant Morrison (accented by a dash of the angsty-theatrical brilliance that is Gerard Way) to blow”¦ my”¦ mind.

2:48 PM

My mind is not blown, but I’ll tell you what”¦ I like these guys. I like them a lot. I’m especially impressed by Gerard Way. He comes on stage with his feathery hair and big rocker glasses, and you’re expecting a glitzy ditzy celebrity type”¦ and then he starts talking about his creative process and what it means to him to win an Eisner and you realize this dude is the real deal.

Anyone scoffing at his musical affiliations or brushing him off as a dabbler is doing themselves and the industry as a whole, a disservice.

You can read more about the panel here.

3:20 PM

The panel is over and I’m scribbling down notes in my little palm-sized spiral notebook as most of the audience streams out through the exit doors.

I remain because the Strazynski panel is an hour from now in this very room, and I’m not sure what kind of a crowd he draws, so I’ve resolved myself to sit through the imminent Xbox panel to make sure I’ll still have a seat in an hour.

This is a practice one should get used to if they plan on attending panels with a significant level of popularity. See”¦ they don’t clear the room out between panels. Which means your best bet to get a decent seat (or ANY seat at all) for that heavily anticipated Ultimate Marvel panel at 1 o’clock, may be to get in line two hours early and sit through the Matlock Reunion panel at 12.

This practice of course harkens back to my earlier observation about long lines.

I’m just sayin’.

3:25 PM

Xbox invades the panel room.

How is this more popular than Grant Morrison”¦?

3:35 PM

Turns out Fable 2 wont be representin’ at this panel, so the focus settles solely on Gears of War 2.

The lights go dim, and we get to watch one of the lead game designers play through a demo level. Game looks pretty cool! When the main character disarms one of the enemies and uses them as a living shield, the crowd goes wild.

3:45 PM

And then guest panelist and Gears of War lead writer, Joshua Ortega, walks on stage”¦ and *I* go wild.

I didn’t know he was going to be in this!! I’ve been a fan of the guy ever since reading his Necromancer Pilot Season book for my first ever GoD review! I totally would have brought my Necromancer trade if I knew he was gonna be at this convention!

Either way, cool to see him in person at last. This panel just gained a bit more of my appreciation”¦

4:11 PM

And now Gears of War novelist Karen Travis is speaking in-depth about the difficulties of cleaning alien gristle out of a chainsaw bayonet.

Audience = enthralled.

4:38 PM

As the Xbox panelists wrap up their show and leave the stage, I find myself much more interested in the Gears of War series than I was an hour ago. The game looks cool, it’s got music by one of my favorite film composers (Steve Jablonski), the comic is being written by a great writer (Ortega), and I’m interested in seeing what Len (Underworld) Wiseman can pull off with the movie.

All in all, not nearly the boring struggle I was expecting it to be. Gamer geeks are an enthusiastic bunch, and that made the panel all the more fun.

But now, it’s time for the panel I’ve been waiting for”¦ the Spotlight on J.M. Straczynski.

5:05 PM

This guy is a riot! He approaches the panel like part laid-back conversation with friends, part standup routine. Sort of like a PG version of An Evening With Kevin Smith. Very sincere and forthcoming. Check out my full coverage here.

6:30 PM

An hour and a half later, I’m done with my panels for the day, and I’ve met up with my wife and our entire D&D group on the convention floor. We wander around a bit before deciding that we’re all hungry.

Before we actually leave though, I run into none other than my uncle”¦ in costume”¦ wandering the exhibition hall.

Apparently, SDCC — like the world — is small, after all.

6:45 PM

Our safety in numbers secured, we make our way across Harbor Street to San Diego’s famous Gaslamp Quarter.

The place is basically one long stretch of bars, restaurants, clubs, fast-fooderies, pizzerias, coffee-shops, hotels and parking structures that stretches on as far as the eye can see (which, in the visual chaos that is the SDCC crowd, isn’t that far).

We decide to try the Rockin’ Baja Coastal Cantina because the name is long and its mascot is a lobster in shades and a sombrero. When we get a look at our menus we know we’ve made the right choice.

This is possibly the most relaxed I’ve been since we arrived in San Diego. I came to Comic-Con to experience something I never have before, and to meet new people, but the honest truth is that being surrounded by the familiarity of my buds is a welcome change. It’s comforting. These people I know. This interaction I understand.

There will be time enough for new surroundings and strange encounters later. Right now, I’m content to laugh with my friends.

8:00 PM

We are standing on the second floor of the convention center, at the end of a line that bends around at least three corners. Outside, dusk paints the waterfront a dark, shiny blue.

The line is for the Masquerade, which our friends are very excited to see. My wife and I, not so much, but we’ve decided to wait with them because they’re our friends and friends are fun.

A few minutes ago, I got a phone call from Dave3, who (along with Empress Eve) we’ve been trying to meet up with since we arrived. Unable to hear anything he was saying above the din from the crowd, I wandered into a nearby restroom, but, not wanting to have to scream my conversation into the echoey restroom itself, I stayed just inside the alcove, head down, facing the corner, finger plugged in my free ear. Dave and I had about a five minute conversation, in which we made loose plans to meet up after they finished dinner.

Wrapping up our conversation (and realizing my friends probably had no idea where I’d gone), I looked up in time to see a woman enter the alcove”¦ stop short”¦ give me a weird look”¦ and then continue past me into the restroom.

I missed the rest of whatever Dave was saying as I calmly walked back out into the hallway and looked up at the sign above the door.

“Dude”¦ I was just in a women’s restroom the whole time we were talking.”

Awesome.

9:30

The wife and I are sitting on a bench near the trolley tracks, being mesmerized by the changing pattern of waterspouts from a fountain. Just got word from Dave3 that he and Eve aren’t really up to a meet-up/hangout right now — which is just fine because we’re not really up to it either. Our feet are sore, our bags are heavy, and we’re pretty much ready to call it a night.

10:35

The pedi-cab we catch back to the Midway decides he’s going to try and turn our ride into a tour by taking us on little detours along the waterfront. Chucklehead ain’t earning any points with me every time he deviates from the set course.

My wife doesn’t seem to mind it too much, but I’m about ready to deck the dude when he finally gets us to our car a half-hour later.

Of course”¦ I could just be tired and cranky”¦

BUT SO WHAT IF I AM?!

Saturday is done.

Just one more day left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday, July 27 (…in which we make our final pass.)

10:03 AM

We check out of our little no-tell motel next to the Hooters and we hit both a bank and a Carl’s Jr.. I eat a Santa Fe chicken sandwich for breakfast (I’m telling you this because you people on the East coast don’t know what the hell a Carl’s Jr. Santa Fe Chicken Sandwich is, and I weep for you) before finally making our way to the convention center.

This has been one hell of an experience. I’m feeling an odd mixture of relief and regret. Yesterday, even despite how tired we were at the end of the day, it felt like I was just getting into the swing of things. Like I had just managed to figure out the rhythm of the convention. Now I understand why Comic-Con starts on Wednesday. There is just”¦ so, SO much to take in. Sensory overload, yeah”¦ but once you can find your peace within it, it’s pretty awesome.

Of course, I’m saying this while sitting in the comfort of our rental car’s passenger seat while my wife drives us into the city. Ask me in an hour if I feel the same way and you’ll no doubt get a different story.

I know the wifey’s tired. If this thing has been a jarring experience for me, it’s been downright alien for her. But she’s been a trooper and has managed to find herself a bit of fun on her own. She even got a picture with Nathan Fillion yesterday!

Okay”¦ overly bloggy, not enough funny.

Check back later.

11:45 AM

Ever wonder what a Salmon feels like when its biological clock starts tickin’?

Walk the convention hall at SDCC on a Sunday some time. It’s an enlightening experience.

Apparently, everyone else in the world had the same idea of waiting till Sunday to do all their purchasing.

Joy.

12:44 PM

I’m waiting on line at the IDW booth to make googley-eyes at Ben Templesmith as he signs my copy of 30 Days of Night: Bloodsucker Tales when my cell phone rings. Still new to this whole “cellular technology” phenomenon, I flip open the phone and put it to my ear.

“Hello?”

It rings again. Loudly. I wince.

The guy behind me snickers. I cast him a sheepish look, “New phone.”

“Uh huh.”

I press the talk button and start again.

It’s Dave! He’s out of Hall H(ell) for the day and is now wandering the exhibition hall! I tell him where I’m at and hang up. A few minutes later, my wife calls.

“Hey! I just got a call from Dave! He– just found me!”

Dave3 stands next to me, grinning. Unfortunately, I have no time to say hi, because my wife’s reply is, “That’s great! I can’t.”

She seems to have gotten swept away in the currents of the exhibition hall and has NO idea where the IDW booth is. I look around for a landmark”¦ Banners are hanging from the ceiling, announcing the numbers of the aisles they hold dominion over.

I tell her to look at the ceiling, and use the numbers to guide her to 5300, where I will meet here in a matter of minutes.

Dave and I reach Templesmith, who is gracious and easy-going, and above all else, funny. He signs my book, as well as a few posters for Dave (which you’ll all be hearing more about soon enough). I tell him that I follow him on Twitter, because I’m a geek and that’s what geeks do. Dave hands him his GoD business card, because he’s a webmaster and that’s what webmasters do.

We get off-line and make our way to the 5300 banner. My wife’s not there. A few minutes later, I get another call.

“I’m here.”

“So are we!”

“Really? Where?”

I make a loud “˜coo-coo!’ noise for her to locate me with.

“I really wish you hadn’t done that into the phone.”

“Sorry. Did you hear me?”

“Well”¦ yeah.”

“In the room?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m at 5300! We’re standing right under the sign right now!”

A random passer-by chimes in, “This entire wall is 5300.”

I look up”¦ and sure enough”¦ fifty, maybe a hundred feet further down, I see another 5300 sign.

“Okay. Find a spot on the wall and park yourself. We’re coming to you.”

So, with a few more guiding landmarks and Dave’s masterful knowledge of the floorplan, we make our way down the wall, chatting all the way.

It’s a funny thing”¦ Hanging with a native New Yorker in a thick crowd, you realize that venues like this were built for New Yorkers. Or, maybe it’s the other way around. Either way, we’re walking and talking and maneuvering and shuffling, and you’ve got to think that MOST people — especially Californians — would be driven insane by this kind of clamor”¦ but then you look over at Dave, and he’s just grinning, taking it all in, completely unoffended. It brought me back home for a second”¦ reminded me what it was like to be a New Yorker. Heh.

So, we traverse the entire exhibition hall, from one end to the other (which calls to mind the quote I put at the very top of this piece), and finally, we find my wife sitting against the wall in the illustrators area. She and Dave make introductions and she picks herself up, ready to go.

“Did you have fun at least?” I ask.

“Some guy totally grabbed my boobs!”

Awesome.

2:45 PM

We’re sitting in the press room upstairs, where Dave and Empress Eve seek refuge at the end of a long day of paneling. I’m surprised to find that the cheese burger and onion rings I’m chowing down on from the Cafe Express downstairs are actually pretty decent! WAY better than the convention food at Wizard World LA.

When we first arrived with Dave (looking over our shoulders every step of the way for fear of being told we couldn’t go in there), we met Eve, who looked up from her MacBook just long enough to say hi and shake our hands before delving back into whatever time-sensitive article she was working on. The consummate professional.

After taking a breather, my wife and I accompanied Dave on his mission to find the one and only Cafe Express in the entire convention hall that carried veggie burgers. Of course, this was the busiest one in the busiest part of the exhibition hall. BUT, we found it, and after juggling an amount of food containers (there were no more trays, you see”¦) that I was almost SURE he was going to drop or smear all over the front of some poor cosplayer’s award winning costume, Dave made it through in one piece. Arriving back at the press room with lunch, Eve took a break from writing, and we all had fun talking about our various and sundry experiences in SD.

It’s almost to be expected, but it has to be said: Dave and Eve? Kick-Ass People. Meeting them has definitely been the high point of our experience here. And the relative peace and quiet of the press room offers the perfect low-key finish to our SDCC experience.

Right now, Eve is back on her computer, makin’ with the magic, and Dave is outside doing an end-of-con report with /Film‘s David Chen. The wife and I are relaxing, mustering our strength for the drive home later today. Of course, being in a press room surrounded by people on their laptops has prompted me to break out my own. Y’know. Just to fit in.

Things are winding to a close, and I’m sure the next time you hear from me, I’ll be in the car on the way home.

3:21 PM

I lied.

So, my wife and I are sitting by the windows in one of the upstairs halls. I’ve decided to send one of my online friends one more text to see if he’s around for a quick hello before we leave the building, and we’re waiting for him to reply.

As we’re waiting, who do we see walking by, but our friends Jan & Bill O’Neil! The O’Neils are a couple of nifty people who my wife and I met a couple years back when I first decided once and for all that I would pursue a career writing comics. As a fan of the comic they had published through Image, Violent Messiahs, I contacted them for advice and we ended up becoming fast friends.

Well, we chatted briefly with them about what a wild & kooky coincidence this was, and they confirmed a rumor that we’d heard in mutterings the day before: The long out of print original Violent Messiahs mini-series, The Book of Job, is being published once again under IDW!

Could this mean that brand new VM mini/ongoing series is on the way? Who knows. I’ll be speaking with them again some time after the con and maybe, just maybe, I’ll have a scoop for Geeks of Doom on that front!

As it is, I was — and am — just really excited to know that the series is getting picked up again, because it’s one of those that I’ve always felt deserved more attention than it got.

(In fact, look for a brand spankin’ new review of the brand spankin’ new edition by yours truly in the months ahead!)

4:00

Having ended our con experience on a relaxing note punctuated by a pleasant surprise, my wife and I hopped in our car, bid a fond farewell (fond to be bidding farewell, that is) to San Diego traffic, and got on the freeway to go home.

We’re surrounded by dusty hills now, meandering past us in the distance.

A minute ago, we passed a Chick-Fil-A, and I just got hungry.

It’s gonna be a long drive.