San Diego Comic-Con: But enough about me… by Martha Thomases
Being the conscientious sort, I thought about writing my column early in the week so it would be finished before I had to leave for San Diego. That way, I’d have one less thing to worry about what with the packing, the schlepping, the hob-nobbing, the drinking.
At the same time, because I feel a responsibility to you, my readers, I thought you might appreciate my keen insights into the event that has come to define not only comics fandom, but also pop culture in America in the early parts of the 21st century.
Eventually, I decided my responsibilities as a journalist were more important than my personal desire for efficiency. (Also, I ran out of time before I left.) As I write this, the first full day of the show has ended, and the evening’s parties lie ahead.
What have we learned?
For starters, Wednesday night, which used to be the Preview night, primarily (it seemed) so exhibitors could check out the show, is now so crowded with people that it makes Times Square look like the dark side of the moon. Getting to a restroom was impossible, much less getting across the floor.
And while television and movie and game and toy folk have used the show for ages to promote fantasy, science fiction and action-adventure stories to fans, this year such distinctions are irrelevant. The Office has a booth. There are giant posters promoting Dexter everywhere. I think both of these shows are great, but they have nothing to do with comics.