"A" is for
"August". That time of year when the weather in northern Indiana turns
from hot, to hotter, and then hellish while the children, gambling
on an endless summer from school, are dragged into the local box-marts
by parents and are force fed ream upon ream of either wide or college
ruled notebook paper.
But that's not the only reason that August ROCKS! There's also the
annual Wizard World Convention held in Chicago every year where the
freaks, geeks, dweebs, spazs, dings, and Trekkies of the world, Midwest
America at least, unite to assure each other that there's nothing
wrong with falling in love with a cartoon character or having the
Starship Trooper logo tattooed on their upper arm.
Essentially, The Wizard World Convention is what the Chicago Comic
Book Convention morphed into after Wizard, a magazine publisher, purchased
the convention and raised ticket prices. (Thanks!) However, The Wizard
World Convention is still at its heart a comic book convention though
other items such as toys, DVDs, and Kevin Sorbo's used undershirts
might also be for sale. (Anyone looking to purchase said undershirt
please contact Bert via The Fort Wayne Reader.)
Over the last nine years I have attended these randomly named conventions
in Chicago eight times. (I didn't get to go in 2003 due to a wedding.
Thanks Ben - you know who you are.) I did get to go this year and
was pleasantly surprised at what I found. (And not just the plethora
of chicks in their thirties walking around in Hogwarts robes, the
fact that Gil Gerard ('Buck Rodgers') looks more like Jabba the Hutt
than a movie action star, or the amount of "naked celeb" videos on
sale.)
"Wherever you go, there you are." - Buckaroo Banzai
The trip started out in Fort Wayne. To prepare for such a long journey,
I had decided to stock up on the essentials just in case anyone got
any "cravings" along the way. We had two bags of cookies, seventy-five
pellets of jawbreakers, five sheets of high-powered sugar dots, a
saltshaker half-full of Pixie Stick dust, and a whole galaxy of bitter,
sweet, and tart candy. Also, a liter of Coca-Cola, a quart of Sprite,
a case of root beer, a pint of raw sugar, and two dozen candy orange
slices. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get
into a serious sugar collection, the tendency is to push it as far
as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the raw sugar.
There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and
depraved than a man in the depths of an sugar binge, and I knew we'd
get into that rotten stuff pretty soon. (With regards to Hunter S.
Thompson.)
Most of the trip was uneventful other than two speeding violation
tickets, accidentally picking up a serial killer hitch-hiker whom
"tasted Illinois blacktop" when we threw him out of our mini-van going
90, and a high-speed chase through the streets of Calumet with "shots
fired." All of which is too boring to relate.
The attire at these conventions is usually casual.
Though the older collectors looking to complete their already bursting
collection of 'Batman', 'Doc Savage', or 'Commie Pinko Menace' might
wear a shirt and tie, members of the post Generation-X slacker community
tend to wear shorts and t-shirts emblazoned with their favorite 1980's
phrase. ("Trickle Down Economics Rawks" and "Hey, Wha' Happen?" were
the two most popular shirts this year.) Bucking the slacker trend,
I had chosen to wear a disguise at the convention - best not be recognized
by my hoards of loyal Fort Wayne Reader fans.
I wore a bushy moustache glued to my upper lip, a pirate shirt, dew-rag
on the head, and loud metallic colored parachute pants with a Boom-Box
hot-glued to my left shoulder which blared old Def Leopard and Rush
songs. Though I spent the day rocking out to Rio and Red Barchetta,
I don't think the disguise worked since it seemed as if everyone recognized
me.
We arrived at the convention around noon, stood in line for a few
minutes to purchase tickets (it cost $25 to walk through the door)
and quickly made our way out onto the convention floor. The sights
that greeted us upon entrance would make even the most jaded comic
book geek drool in anticipation.
Booths from all the major comic book companies were sprawled out on
the convention floor and, for the most part, were manned by scantily
clad women. (Nothing attracts the geeks to the booths like scantily
clad women.) Overhead giant screens played out various new cartoons,
movies, and television shows said companies were promoting at the
convention. Crowds gathered around the booths looking to get an autograph
from a popular comic book artist or writer. As we walked I noticed
that to my left was comic book artist Rob Liefeld who was once considered
to be one of the best artists in the field. Liefeld was so famous
that he appeared in several Levis 501 jeans ads. However, it was later
realized that Liefeld was a talentless hack and would not surprise
me if it turned out that he was currently drawing 'Archie' comic books
- the lowliest of the low, the unclean.
Moving onto the convention floor hundreds of dealers were set up with
booths hawking everything from comic books featuring the first appearance
of Spider-Man, and selling from anywhere from a few thousand dollars
to over 15,000 dollars, to various old toys, movie posters, bootlegged
DVDs, swords, movie scripts, and the what-not. Some comic book geeks
are known to suffer a brain seizure upon entering a room filled with
such great items all available for purchase. I saw one young man being
helped off the floor and an older lady passed out in one of the corners
of the center. I did feel a bit light-headed but was able to push
on.
It's every geek for themselves.
Inside the convention center people are lined up almost elbow-to-elbow,
crowded to the extreme. Fans crowd certain booths looking for "that"
particular comic book, or an autographed copy of an 'Aliens vs. Predator'
poster, or a bootlegged DVD featuring all of the season two episodes
of the U.K. cartoon 'Danger Mouse'... And these fans have no qualms
with pushing their way in, and you out, of the primo space in front
of the booths. It's best to carry pepper spray to combat this type
of behavior. Remember to aim for the eyes.
As I browsed one of the booths a woman came up to me and asked, "Do
you know anything about 'Star Tre'k?" To which I immediately gut-punched
her and replied, "Lady, you're at a comic book convention. Most of
the people here can recite entire episodes of 'Star Trek' as flaming
baseballs are thrown at their heads. Push on, woman, and talk to someone
else." She was a bit dazed but seemed to have gotten the message as
she gripped her stomach and stumbled down the isle and away from me.
At the convention I managed to pick up a mint
copy of 'Famous Artist Norman Rockwell: Nazi Smasher', the pilot episode
to an as yet unaired revival of the 1960's series 'Time Tunne'l, several
fan made 'Batman' productions, a few issues of 'Naked Apes in Colo'r
magazine, several 'Alie'n movie related toys, a book, and the script
for the next George Romero 'Night of the Living Dead' movie entitled
'Dead Reckoning'.
Every year there are the fans that dress up as their favorite comic
book or movie characters. (In a fun, not sick and twisted dress up
and tie me up sort of way, which I am into.) There are those who dress
up like Batman, their favorite character from 'Firefly', and even
some nameless characters that are well known to the Japanese but known
only to a dozen or so people here in America. Have you ever heard
of the Japanese comic book character 'Super Deluxe Gooey Fish Head
and Tail Action Character'? I think not!
This year there were a plethora or girls dressed up like they were
students from Hogwarts, men dressed up like 'The Punisher', and several
company-sponsored costumes related to movies or toys. Some people
may think it a bit odd that people dress in this manner. I tend to
agree. But still, girls who dress up in these costumes really know
their comic book trivia. And is there anything more attractive than
a girl who knows the difference between Kal-El and Jor-El? (Said girls
please write to me care of the Fort Wayne Reader.)
Give me a Marc Singer hairdo.
Best of all were the C or D list celebrities in attendance at the
Con. Most of these celebrities were on their way out decades ago but
still cling onto the hope that the next cell phone call will be from
Quentin Tarantino offering them up a part in his next film. Alas most
of these "stars" will quietly fill out their days on the convention
circuit charging anywhere between $20 and $50 an autograph. At this
convention, not only was Buck Rodgers (Gil Gerard) there, but also
Buck's girlfriend Wilma Deering (Erin Gray), The 1970's 'Incredible
Hulk' (Lou Ferigno), Lt. Boomer (Herbert Jefferson) from 'Battlestar
Galactica', and 'The Beastmaster' himself Marc Singer.
I my eyes swelled as I spied one of my childhood heroes Marc Singer
from across the room. He smiled, I smiled. I finally worked up the
courage to go over and say "hello." But as I approached his booth
I realized that the Beastmaster I had known growing up had changed.
It wasn't the addition of wrinkles, droopy skin, or slightly graying
hair. It took me a while to notice just what it was. Then I realized
that the lion, ferrets, and eagle featured in the movie alongside
Marc were not in attendance. Everyone knows that these animals were
the real stars of the movie. So I turned and I walked away in disgust.
Is there anything better than spending an entire summer day locked
away inside a convention center with the smell of moldy old pulpy
comics? I don't think so. I can't wait until the convention returns
next year.
(With regards to Tim, Sean, Alex, and Clark Faurote whom all collectively
shared their mini-van with me as I tagged along on their trip to Chicago.
Guys, I swear I didn't know that eating two quarts of baked beans
before the trip would make me gassy. All photos used with this article
were taken by Alex Faurote.)