Comic Contemplations, Part 1
It was inevitable that, having compiled a list of events at comic con that I most wanted to attend, I would actually participate in almost none of them. Inevitable, perhaps, but not tragic. The convention grounds were so carpeted with pageantry, pomp, and circumstance, the air so thick with geek pheromones, that the panels and screenings, not undesirable by any means, were out of sight and thus out of mind.
Uncle Bob, having swooped down from upstate while I was at work, was already firmly entrenched at the con when I met him at the Marvel citadel Friday afternoon. At this stage, a raw initiate, it took all my weight to keep from capsizing in the sea of geekery. The sight of slight teens in gravity-defying wigs sauntering down an aisle with giant blades strapped to their backs has broken greater men than me. I had to steel myself. I had to maintain. Fear is the mind-killer.