Comic Con: Embrace the Madness

The True Blood Panel As Seen Through the Bloodshot Eyes of a Comic-Con Virgin

Author’s note: This is a bit lengthy.  Sorry. It’s true that I can get long winded, but to do the experience justice, setting the stage seemed important.  I’ll get to the point if you’ll just bear with me, promise!

This was my first Comic-Con, and if there is one thing I have learned, this embracing of the madness is truly what it takes to survive the utter insanity of Comic-Con without suffering a mild-to-moderate mental, physical or emotional meltdown.  It would seem that, as all this so-called ‘genre’ stuff (really, isn’t it just fun, interesting stuff?) has attracted a wider and louder following, the Con has similarly increased in scope.  Most swarm there to be immersed in the culture they love so much.  However, there are downsides to this major upswing in popularity.

It’s an unfortunate reality that competition for good (or sometimes any) seats to your favorite panel can be fierce. The best strategy sometimes is to get in the room early and camp out all bloody day, if that’s what it takes to secure your close viewing pleasure spot.  Some panels are so popular that it’s necessary for you to drag your sorry carcass out of bed at oh-dark:30 to go stand in line for the room you want, bleary eyed and begging strangers for information on where to get that cup of coffee. Lines can seem infinite, forcing you for hours to sit, stand, tweet, text, make friends with those next to you, try to stay hydrated, and subsist on trail mix and whatever you could scrounge from your hotel’s complimentary continental breakfast.  Moreover, since some people do leave the room after each panel, as soon as a panel closes the furious jockeying for a better seat erupts.  The good seats can be hotly contested, and tempers can flare.  Hey, we’re all here for the fun, right?  Gladly, most people do remember that little fact.

Such was the case Saturday, July 25 in Ballroom 20 of the San Diego Convention Center.  A mere 4200 seats were not enough to contain the whopping thousands whose sole goal for the day was to see what was going to be happening in that room.  The anxiety that I maybe wouldn’t wake up on time had made damn sure I wouldn’t miss that oh-dark:30 alarm by waking me up at some time I don’t even want to contemplate.  My intrepid companions and I, although arriving at the Con nearly 4 hours before the first panel was even scheduled to start at 10:00, only managed 5th row seats.  [That panel was Chuck, and I report with no sense of surprise whatsoever that it had a massive and rabid audience.]  OK, so 5th row is pretty close.  But considering that the panel coming up later was the main reason I took the vacation days, booked the tickets, and dumped the kids off on various family members – it was NOT CLOSE ENOUGH! J

At the close of the Chuck panel (which BTW was completely awesome!) I very indelicately wrangled a second row seat.  Score!  So, I then hunkered down for the loooong wait until True Blood Time – 5:15.  Such was my True Blood mania that I sacrificed seeing panels showing elsewhere, that I had really wanted to see, so that I wouldn’t lose that coveted 2nd row-3rd from center spot.  It was a bummer to miss these other events, which included a chance to attend a True Blood autograph session.  This was a calculated risk, and I’m happy/sad to say that it paid off, since not even our own Mel and Liz managed to nab tickets for that.

At any rate, I sat through the Family Guy/Cleveland Show panels with a decent amount of enthusiasm.  Seth McFarlane is an interesting fella. (Who doesn’t love his HULU commercial? Anyone?)  The Simpsons/Futurama panels I mostly just endured. Fringe was immediately before True Blood – and it was very, very cool.  Joshua Jackson and John Noble could start their own road show.  I want to party with those guys and get swept up in their slightly warped, eccentric hilarity.  But, even though Chuck and Fringe really were Con highlights for me, they sort of became placeholders for the One True Goal.  And I was not alone.  Surrounding me was a solid mass of humanity who had parked their butts in these seats for hours on end just to see those who bring them their favorite show.

When the Fringe folks made their way off stage, a surge of adrenaline propelled my body and brain into overdrive.  Apparently, this became an airborne contagion.  In mere seconds, me and all my new BFF’s went from “man, I’m exhausted” to “aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh they’re coming they’re coming it’s time yyaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!”.  We bounced.  We clapped.  We giggled.  In short, we became fan girls.  Oh, the horror!  “I sat through the New Moon panel making fun of all the screaming teenaged Twi-hards,” laughed Stacy, her voice edged with disbelief and hysteria.  “I can’t believe that now I’m acting just like them.  And I don’t care!!!”  Amen, Sister Stacy!  Amen.

Then, with neither pomp nor circumstance, the lights came up and they were there, sauntering straight to their chairs.  Alex, Deborah, Sam, Charlaine, Nelsan, Michelle, Alan, Rutina, Stephen, Anna…wowwowwow doesn’t even being to cover it.  The cacophony was deafening.  But what happened to me next was odd and unexpected.  The fandemonium faded into the background, and it became all about me and them.

True Blood panel at Comic Con 2009

It’s a good thing us women-folk are natural multi-taskers.  I had a video camera in my left hand, was taking still shots with my right, and spent as much time as possible with my bloodshot eyeballs glued to the panel of fabulousness sitting before me.  To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t really listening to the words being spoken.  After all, it was being recorded.  I could go back and hear the words later.  No, my new compulsion was to take the utmost advantage of this rare, up-close(ish)-and-personal encounter.  I tried to drink in every nuance of mood, every expression, every motion…stuff that can’t as easily be gleaned from a 2-dimensional recording. Let me tell you, it was a full cup from which to sip!

Alex’s rather understated demeanor, punctuated with sexy/goofy grins and flashing, intense blue eyes.  Deborah’s adorable nervousness – hold on, she’s scared of us?  How …well, adorable.  Sam’s total ease, unrushed, gentle, punctuated with flashing, intense blue eyes.  Charlaine’s refined manners, with the “I am so tickled” bubbling just under the surface.  Nelsan’s quiet wonder that the screams for him were as loud and long as any.  Michelle’s sheer presence, her strength and power.  Alan’s face alternately lit with wicked humor and suffused with sincere earnestness.  Rutina’s amused fondness for her friends, shaking her head wryly at their antics.  Stephen’s thoughtfulness, wit and mercurial expressions, punctuated with [all together now!] flashing, intense blue eyes.*  And Anna’s wide grin that truly does light up a room, which is hard to fully appreciate if you’re not actually in the room with her.

But above all else, the humor.  The camaraderie.  In every little poke or joke, it was evident that these people genuinely love each other, and they love what they do. And, although more pronounced in some than others, the whole stage was permeated with a sense of awe. They are overwhelmed that they have managed to touch so many people in a way that engenders so much wild enthusiasm, and are a bit awed by us because we have made it possible for them to continue doing it.  And you know what?  It was absolutely impossible to not be awed right back, and to love them even more than before.

In what seemed like 10 minutes but was in reality more like 50, the dreaded “This will be the last question” came over the PA.  A collective groan that went something like “nnnoooooooooooooo” swept through the crowd.  Instantly sad, but still elated, we realized our time was nearly up.  Sigh.  The panel closed, and they rose to take their leave but then! – Alex, Sam and Stephen stepped to the front of the stage to sign autographs.  I was a little too slow on the uptake – by the time I realized what was going on, there was a snowball’s chance in hell that I could get anywhere near Alex without risking life and limb.  Stephen was similarly mobbed, but I thought there might be a slight chance that I could get through to Sam.  As I got up there, though, I realized I didn’t have anything for him to sign.  Improvise, adapt, overcome!  I slid my name badge out of its holder and frantically stretched in his general direction as the stage meanies came to drag the boys off.  Oh, he took the badge!  But I didn’t have a pen!  [Clearly an autograph-getting novice at work, here.]  So Sam Trammel grabbed someone else’s pen and signed my badge.  It was, I think, the last thing he signed before he was forced to go.

The envy may now commence. 😀

So, now I’ve floated back down to earth.  I’m utterly spent, but still glowing.  My Comic-Con cherry has been thoroughly popped, and I couldn’t be happier with my new status. Naturally, the True Blood panel was – guess what I’m going to say, here? – yes, yes. It was the climax.  The whole thing was truly a mind-blowing experience, one I hope to repeat.  Repeatedly.

Until next year…

*Yes, Stephen, when you walked out on stage you stole my breath, you sneaky bugger.  It’s all right, though.  I don’t want it back.