One of the things I am reminded of, every Comic-Con, is the extent to which talent and security have no idea who is running anything. This is the sort of conversation that happens any time I have a booth appointment, or a supposedly reserved seat to a panel, and I don’t know anybody in advance:
CLIPBOARD GUY: Sorry, we’re at capacity.
Me: I have a reserved seat.
CG: From who?
Me: Let me check. [pulls out phone, searches email, shows guy]
CG: I have no idea who that is
Me: Can you ask? It’s Steve Johnson, of PR PR.
CG: Let me get my boss.
[Boss arrives]
BOSS: Hi, can I help you?
Me: Yes, Steve Johnson, the publicist for this panel, is holding a seat for me.
BOSS: Can I see the email?
ME: [shows phone, again]
BOSS: If you like, you can look inside and see if you see Steve.
ME: I’ve never met Steve. I don’t know what he looks like.
BOSS: Then how does he know you to save you a seat?
ME: [inhales deeply] He’s the publicist and I’m a writer. Look, I can just go cover some other panel…
BOSS: Hold on. Let me ask one more person.
[Boss goes inside, comes back with new person]
NEW PERSON; Hi, how can I help you?
Me: I need to see Steve to get my reserved seat.
NP: [roughly paraphrased] Oh, Steve’s the guy up on stage speaking right now, at the panel you’re late for because nobody here communicates with anybody and we kept you standing outside for ten minutes.
Me: Ooookay…?
NP: You can go in and try to find a seat, I guess.
Me: Thanks. [walks inside, trips over about 15 people to get to a tiny seat squeezed between two annoyed fans. Having missed the intro video I should have been writing about]
When I’m in my element, typing during a panel, I have my coverage down to a science, and I can just about hit send the minute the panel ends. But I’m also on a laptop that no longer holds a charge for long, so I wouldn’t be able to park my ass in Hall H all day these days. Laptops used to let you switch out batteries, and then determined consumers didn’t want that. Well, I do. I hate not having that ability any more.
Other than that, Comic-Con flew by this year. Having both Julia and Phoebe the dog meant that I was never alone, so there was nothing that ever felt like “dead time.” I understand my own pace pretty well, and my limitations, and while I try to hold myself to a certain amount of deadline, I realized pretty quickly that (a) Substack isn’t really a medium on which to do more than two emailed features a day, and (b) at the end of the day, I am still my own boss, and if I miss a self-imposed deadline, nobody’s mad.
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Here are some random things for you now:
As I waited in an endless line for over an hour to get free nachos (pro tip: If you’re gonna mooch free food, scoop fast and move. Don’t fucking twirl the cheese spoon to get every last drop of it when you ca simply scoop more from the HUGE VAT)…I observed, at a great remove, a Lonesome Grinch…
Comic-Cons are gonna comic-con, with lenticular pictures of fan-fave cartoon women that make their clothes disappear…
Robert Meyer Burnett on his 25th Starship Smackdown panel, making the same joke for 25 years running about how the Serenity and original Galactica are the best ships because they have hookers on them. The older a person gets, the less the joke lands…
These stretchy cats seemed positioned as the new trending plushes. Nobody would take cash for them, though.
I’m assuming this is some sort of commentary on Ace Ventura’s transphobia, but I’m not sure quite what they’re saying.
“Latverian Witch” costume from Avengers Doomsday
Mondo’s next Masters of the Universe, and utterly insane TMNT.
Factory Entertainment, known for prop replicas, is going big into 3-3/4 inch ‘80s TV show figures. They said the Airwolf vehicle would be 6-inch scale, though I’ve heard conflicting reports.
And since Roy Scheider’s estate won’t sell his likeness, they’re making Brody’s uniform from Jaws, and selling it on a blank figure, for those who want to customize.
This installment for Laika’s Wildwood is gonna be touring, but really all it is is a photo-op with a free pin.
Syndicate Collectibles is making a toy of the Poltergeist clown, so sweet dreams.
A scale playset of the Killer Klowns spaceship would be too ridiculous…but a cardboard one? Sure.
Monster High is getting weird with the crossovers. I dare them to call the Krampus one “Menstrual Krampus.”
Rogue Trooper action figure for Duncan Jones’ upcoming animated movie.
Nifty cosplay, but walking anywhere in the hall must be hell.
Stay classy, San Diego.
I’m gonna be bold and predict next year, somebody will pay me to do this. Let’s see what happens.
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