San Diego Daze

Well, I’ve returned–physically, at least; mentally I’m in the kind of ADD nirvana that only a huge honking pile of unread comic books can provide–from the San Diego Comic-Con, basically the biggest pop-cultural convention of any kind anywhere in the United States. This is my third year in attendance, and each year it appears to have doubled in size. (This go-round the con expanded to occupy the entirety of the San Diego Convetion Center, which at the height of traffic on Saturday felt like a small city unto itself.) Each year I buy an ungodly amount of comics of every type imaginable. Each year I’m indescribably tickled by the collision of mainstream comics, art comics, video games, toys, movies, and Klingons. Each year I rub elbows with some pretty ridiculously luminous luminaries. Each year I miss The Missus. Next year I’ll definitely be bringing her, because SDCC is something that everyone should experience at least once.

For those who aren’t quite sure what I’m talking about, SDCC is the biggest trade event in a field that has lots of them. There are panels in which different comics-related issues are discussed, announcements are made by the big companies involving their upcoming plans, pros come to sign books and meet and greet the fans, parties are held for mingling purposes, comics-related and genre-based movies are previewed, and tons and tons of stuff are sold on the enormous convention floor. It’s one of the rare places where a person dressed as Frodo Baggins could meet the actor who played Frodo Baggins. It’s also one of the rare places where Los Bros Hernandez sign autographs not five feet away from Rob Liefeld doing the same. Metaphorically, SDCC is the sublime and the ridiculous getting hammered and screwing on a pool table with a Halloween party full of people watching. (Hat tip to Kevin Smith–who was there, actually–for the imagery.)

Highlights for me were many, and since this is a blog, I can just list them and leave all that structure malarkey for the New Yorker. Here we go:

** Upon arriving at the hotel booked for myself and my companion, one of the A&F Quarterly’s illustrators, we found that both of our rooms had hot tubs in them. At a con where some of the best cartoonists in the world sleep three in a bed, we were basically pimped out.

** Meeting Dirk Deppey, the mastermind behind Journalista, live and in person. He’s just as delightful in the flesh as he is online. Be sure to ask him about anti-Scientology hip-hop bands, and tell him Sean sent ya!

** SDCC is one place where you are allowed, if not encouraged or even mandated, to talk about comics for hours and hours on end. One night myself, Josiah (the illustrator) and Fantagraphics intern extraordinaire Sebastian spent probably four hours drinking beer and talking about every comic we could think of. In the real world it’s next to impossible to find someone smart who’s smart about comics. If you know where to look at SDCC, you practically swim in them.

** Among other insights that such conversations yielded was Josiah’s assertion that the character of Jack the Ripper in Alan Moore & Eddie Campbell’s From Hell was, in fact, a superhero–he’s got extraordinary powers, he receives a mission from a supernatural authority, he’s part of a secretive order dedicated to the betterment of mankind, and he takes action to change the world. I’m pretty much ready to re-read the comic because of this simple recontextualization. That’s the kind of good stuff that comes out when you put smart comics fans together.

** Conversation between myself, Sebastian, and Kim Thompson re: David B’s Epileptic:

SEBASTIAN: How is that, Kim?

KIM: It’s a masterpiece. Maus, Jimmy Corrigan, Epileptic.

SEBASTIAN: Is that the whole thing, or is there more?

KIM: He’s working on the second half. It’ll be called Epileptic 2.

SEAN: …Electric Boogaloo? (Too easy, right?)

KIM: No. Epileptic Boogaloo.

Those krazy kut-ups at Fantagraphics!

** Speaking of which, Gary Groth is a really nice guy. He seems truly pleased to talk with you if you’re interested in Fanta books, and the fact that if you wrote something he didn’t like he’d tear you a new asshole in print actually enhances his likeability. He’s honest, even if you disagree with him half the time, and I like that a lot.

** I had a fantastic conversation about Roxy Music and design with The Filth artist Chris Weston and Vertigo Group Editor Shelly Bond. Getting a group of Roxy Music fans in one place is even rarer than getting a group of smart comics fans in one place.

** Just to stake my claim, I was part of the conversation in which Ron Rege & Marc Bell devised a plot to encourage Teratoid Heights creator and master of funny monster one-liners Mat Brinkman to do a weekly gag strip. If it ever happens, you heard it here first.

** Interviewing Blankets author and almost impossibly friendly guy Craig Thompson. He said his next book will be a fantasy of sorts involving drought, adding another intimidating natural feature to his repertoire (the ocean and snowy winters have already been tackled). He also posed for a picture with my wife’s stuffed wombat and went skinny dipping, but not at the same time, much to my wife’s chagrin. But the sketch he did in the hardcover copy I bought for my wife was just phenomenally beautiful, meaning that it suited its recipient, basically.

** The second-best Kim Thompson quote of the con: Chris Ware’s next graphic novel, Rusty Brown, “will make Jimmy Corrigan look like a minicomic.”

** Met some PEFBs. Survived. (Click that link for further details about the PseudoEducated FanBoy.)

** Met Colleen Doran. Was delighted. Not only is she friendly and funny (and, as seems to be the case with most really good comic-book creators, cool-looking), but she brooks no bullshit. Amidst a long debate during the “25 Years of the Graphic Novel” panel, in response to the question of whether changing the terminology would help the form gain respectability, she said, “Sometimes I just think, ‘You won’t read somethin’ because it’s called a ‘comic book’? What an elitist loser! Why the hell would I want you to read my book?’ I wouldn’t treat a ditch-digger the way some people treated me when I told them what I did. Who needs them?” Testify!

** Doran really held her own at the “25 Years of Graphic Novels” panel, and in so doing revealed a pretty big knowledge gap about the real world even amongst really great comix creators. Click here for details.

** Say what you will about Kevin Smith, but the guy is funny. During his very popular panel he told a story about getting walked in on by his daughter while having sex with his wife that was just a scream. Probably not so much for him at the time.

** In the regret column: On separate occasions, being seconds away from talking with Dave Cooper and Frank Miller when they suddenly get up and leave. The ones that got away, if you will.

** Chatting with Grant Morrison about the X2 premiere party in London at Sir Ian McKellen’s house, to which I was invited but stayed home to interview Phoebe Gloeckner instead:

SEAN: How was it?

GRANT: It got so gay so fast!

As is the wont of parties in which Sir Ian and Alan Cumming are in attendance, I’d imagine.

** Also in the regret column: Looking at someone in a costume consisting of a thong and fishnet stockings from behind, then realizing that someone was a man.

** Watching a woman whose “shirt” consisted simply of two strips of electrical tape pose for pictures outside the Highwater Comics booth. Word is sales of Kramer’s Ergot 4 improved dramatically at the time, displaying an unpredicted crossover appeal for Vampirella fans.

** Because it bears repeating, Los Bros Hernandez (Love & Rockets) did a signing about five feet away from Rob Liefeld (Youngblood) doing the same. This is roughly akin to Stanley Kubrick doing a joint appearance with the makers of 2 Fast 2 Furious.

** Blind item: Which prominent Vertigo creator tore me a new asshole not two minutes after first meeting me for the crime of interviewing and liking TV psychic John Edward?

** Josiah swiped Frank Miller’s pint of Guiness at the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund party. (Frank had already left, but still.)

** Met Brian Michael Bendis in person. He’s one of my favorite writers, and I was a little bummed that my interview with him was just a phoner. He’s funny and friendly in person, and told me that before he realized I’d sent him a comp copy of the A&F issue he was in, he went to the store to buy it and got screamed at by the teenage clerk for flipping through the book without buying it first. And he gave me a freebee copy of Total Sell Out. Huge!

** I had a long conversation about Fossil watches with one of the women working at Dave McKean’s booth. I walked away with new enthusiasm for my timepiece. (Those flashing colors really bug people out!)

** Erik Larsen (of Savage Dragon fame) told Josiah he could “draw the hell out of” stuff. Damn.

** I discovered that there actually ARE laugh-out-loud funny comics out there. Marc Bell’s Shrimpy & Paul, Johnny Ryan’s Portajohnny and Jason’s Meow Baby were freaking funny. Now if only I could discover a horror comic that was actually scary

** Got to see almost half the cast of The Lord of the Rings at a panel presented by New Line. Sean Astin is adorable, Elijah Wood is good looking, Dominic Monaghan (Merry) is surprisingly good looking as well, and Andy Serkis (Gollum, pre-CGI), besides seeming like a genuine badass, appears to be quite blessed in the Li’l Smeagol department, if his tight trousers are any indication. Also, the few clips they showed of Return of the King revealed a scale that simply dwarfs the imagination. The big battle in RoTK features an enemy horde twenty times the size of the one in The Two Towers. Holy moses.

** Further regret: Josiah lost his ATM card, leaving it at the Fanta booth after using it. That’s the kind of thing that would have drove me NUTS if I had done it. He handled it with aplomb, I must say, as it didn’t interfere with him walking across a beach for an hour or so later that night. (Stay tuned for explanation.)

** Went to a fabulous art-gallery show of original comic art by a ton of altcomix heavyweights. There’s something awe-inspiring, in a cult-of-the-object sort of way, about seeing the original drawings from great comics. I was particularly wowed by the two-page spread from Dan Clowes’s David Boring and the comic (my favorite one, actually) from Phoebe Gloeckner’s Diary of a Teenage Girl. I also bought the show’s catalog, which as an added bonus came with a baggie full of authentic trash from a cartoonist featured in the show. Mine had Phoebe’s–I recognized the Long Island Rail Road ticket!

** Another item in the regret column: Taking cabs. Almost without exception, every single cab driver we encountered was an incompetent moron. One just couldn’t figure out how to get to 420 G Street, despite getting onto G Street and driving in the direction of the number 420. He actually rolled down his window and yelled for help to other cabbies, who, surprisingly enough, were no help at all. Another couldn’t figure out how to get to 530 Broadway, again despite getting onto Broadway and driving in the direction of the number 530. This winner blew past the hotel, took us five blocks out of the way to get back (he seemed genuinely surprised that the streets in the area were one-way, and who can blame him? he’s only a goddamn cab driver), overcharged us once he got us close enough to drop us off, and then nearly tore the arm off the girl trying to get in the cab after we got out as he drove off with the door open in an effort not to pick her up. (Keep in mind both of the above incidents took place in the tourist-heavy downtown area, where, one would think, a cab driver might be familiar with the locations of major hotels, as well as the existence of one-way streets and the fact that numbers proceed up or down the street in a fairly orderly, not at all mysterious fashion.) But the one who took the taco was the miserable bastard who, when told to take us to Ocean Beach, then after saying “Pacific Beach?” and being told “no, Ocean Beach,” proceeded to take us to Pacific Beach anyway, without telling us he was doing so. He drove us about 15-20 minutes out of our way, dropped us off on the wrong land mass, let alone the wrong beach, and made a killing because it cost so much damn money to get that far away. Since we were looking for a party on the beach, we actually ended up walking the entire length of the shore, about five miles, before we realized we weren’t just dropped off at the wrong place on the beach, but at the wrong beach entirely. We had to get back in another cab (the one good driver we encountered, thank Christ), cross a bridge, and drive for about ten minutes before we were back to where we should have been. Mizzable bastards. I did not handle this well, no sir.

** Beach party fun: Aside from the aforementioned glimpse of Craig Thompson’s bare ass, there was the added spectacle of watching an incredibly inebriated lone party crasher plop down on the sand and drunkenly warble along to her acoustic guitar, while an also-drunk artcomics fan tried to shout her down.

** More beach party fun: Tom Devlin offered his most direct take on EC Comics yet: “Oh, they suck.”

** Doing our good deed for the weekend, we offered two very nice women who were in town to support altcomix luminary Dame Darcy one of our hotel rooms so they wouldn’t have to sleep in their van. No word on whether they took advantage of the hot tub.

** I bought a lot, and I mean a lot, of comics.

Teratoid Heights by Mat Brinkman

Yeast Hoist by Ron Rege Jr.

Only a Movie by Jordan Crane

Shrimpy & Paul and Friends by Marc Bell

The TCJ Library: Frank Miller from the Comics Journal

Meow Baby by Jason

Ripple by Dave Cooper

Quimby the Mouse by Chris Ware

Cages by Dave McKean

Alec: How to Be an Artist by Eddie Campbell

A Distant Soil Volume 1 by Colleen Doran

The Big Guy & Rusty the Boy Robot by Frank Miller & Geof Darrow

The complete Martha Washington series by Frank Miller & Dave Gibbons

The Buenaventura Gallery Show Catalog by various and sundry awesome cartoonists

I also bought copies of Craig Thompson’s Blankets, Phoebe Gloeckner’s Diary of a Teenage Girl and Jim Woodring’s The Frank Book for friends. Yes, I’m a giving sort.

** Finally, a veritable orgy of namedropping, as much to indulge my ADD-derived love of listing things as to brag (though believe me, I’m bragging). Huge thanks to all the comics pros who talked with us, drank with us, gave us freebies, signed our books, invited us to parties, or otherwise made our lives enjoyable at the Con: Mark Alessi, Axel Alonso, Brandon Badeaux, Marc Bell, Brian Bendis, Shelly Bond, Charles Brownstein, Peggy Burns, CB Cebulski, Jordan Crane, Dirk Deppey, Tom Devlin, Marshall Dillon, Colleen Doran, Shawna Ervin-Gore, Tim Ervin-Gore, Gary Groth, Gilbert Hernandez, Jaime Hernandez, Jason, Erik Larsen, John Layman, David Mack, Grant Morrison, Dan Nado, Mike Norton, Mike Oeming, Ron Rege Jr., Jamie Rich, James Robinson, Johnny Ryan, Gareb Shamus, Craig Thompson, Kim Thompson, Brett Warnock, Chris Weston, and everyone else we hung out with.

Thank you also to The Missus, for being patient with her husband the geek.

Stay tuned for reviews of the books that I got. Maybe even reviews of all of them. I’m feelin’ productive!