San Diego Comic-Con 2002 is over and I gotta say I’m pretty happy about it. My dogs are barkin’ and I’m tired of swimming through a sea of nerds. Not that I had a bad time mind you…this is the greatest pop culture gathering in the world…but by show’s end if you don’t wanna snap someone’s spine like a Slim Jim, then you have superhero nerves of steel.
It’s funny how many different emotions one can go through while enduring a weekend at the Con. The first is childish giddiness as you drive into San Diego with your wallet fat with cash. The giddiness is amped as you get closer to the convention center because you start seeing people with backpacks and Con badges walking around everywhere. But it’s not ‘till you see the guy in the Darth Vader helmet being pulled down the street in a rickshaw that you realize you’ve made it…you’re home and if you weren’t sitting down, a rainbow would be hanging out of your a*s.
The next phase of emotion is nervous confusion…not excitement…confusion. You’re dropped into the nerd pit and any sort of feeble game plan you had concocted on your way to the show suddenly crumbles in the space of a few seconds. It doesn’t matter if this is your first time or your tenth, getting back into the Con is a tense experience. The ability to control one’s bodily functions also has the potential to slip a little and this is one of the reasons why I think that the convention hall tends to smell like a sack of dead monkeys all too frequently. Anyways, you’re dodging, nerds and freaks while trying to take everything in at once. You just can’t help it, there’s no way to casually submerge yourself into this juggernaut of jackassery. It’s a brain bubbler and less hardened folk may wind up having a stroke.
The Con goes on in part two of COMIC-CON 2002: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO>>>