Back from the Emerald City Comicon in Seattle, where I wrote about this and this and also this other show that I’ve never even watched. I am full of notions for making this conventiongoing experience better, whether it’s Seattle or San Diego or NYCC. Nerds, ten-hut. I’m talking to you and about you.
1. In fact, by Day 3 of the con, I was tweeting about you:
I am serious about this. It’s crowded in there, the aisles aren’t that wide, there’s a lot of stuff to see and lots of events we’re rushing to. A little courtesy in navigation will go a long way toward making sure we all get there happily.
- 1a. Guys … the rollerbags … the handcarts you’re pulling behind you, loaded with the stuff you want Kurt Busiek to sign? They take up AS MUCH SPACE AS YOU DO.
2. Great costumes are seventy percent of the fun of any con. But taking pics in the narrow space of the trade floor creates a clot the size of the plaqueball that’s just about to plug your mitral valve. Yes, yours. If you see a great costume that you absolutely must photograph, I guarantee you will see it again later that day, somewhere else, where there’s less foot traffic.
3. If you are rushing past Sergio Aragones to fawn over anybody who draws for Image, you are part of the problem with comics.
4. Boondock Saints has nothing to do with comics, or even really with movies.
- 4a. Could be worse, though. Could be Twilight.
5. Some of us have kids. All of us used to be kids. Practically all of us fell in love with comics and movies when we were kids. Show some respect for the kids. Watch where you’re walking. Let the family with the six-year-old get ahead of you in the line to see Wil Wheaton. Kids remember things, and what they remember from today can change who they become and how they forge their relationship to fantasy. Don’t be that rude fucking orc who stepped on their foot and made them drop that Astro Boy reprint — you might be squelching the joy of discovery.
6. Walking into a not-so-packed panel discussion, throwing your jacket over a chair to reserve it for the panel that you really plan to attend two hours from now, and then walking away to shop for Darth Vader plushies is … really, REALLY not a cool thing to do to the people who make the effort to stand in line.
7. Smile. You are in a place all together where everyone celebrates the bizarre, the fantastic, the secret and the exotic. Smile. Why are you glowering your way from booth to booth, lunging frothily at Jonathan Frakes with a publicity still and a Sharpie in your hand? Smile. This ain’t business, no matter how many Silver Age backissues you’re checking off your list. Smile. Trust me, smiling at other people in a space where all your differences and eccentricities are accepted, even admired — it’s just like having a superpower.