WonderCon Powers... Activate!

Y’know, I’ve seen a rubber band, and a peanut stand… I’ve seen a needle wink its eye… but now I’ve seen just about everything ‘cause we just got back from WonderCon!

(Don’t even ask me why we never went lo the many years we actually lived in San Francisco, alright?)

We’ve been to San Diego’s ComicCon, and it was amazing… but WonderCon was a better, cooler experience, tellyouwhat. The complaints I’ve heard about WonderCon are always the same: "It’s kinda’ small." Well my friends, that is precisely the reason it kicks so much ass.

It’s kinda’ small.

Because it’s one showroom of exhibitors, and one floor of conference rooms for panel discussions and such, it’s so much easier to actually approach the comic book gods and demigods there that it's just that much more enjoyable. I coulda’ picked Mike Mignola’s pocket Saturday afternoon. I almost spilled water on Peter Mayhew’s waist (which was right about at eye-level as he hurried past me on his way to what I can only assume was a portable, economy-sized toilet he must take with him from event to event. Seriously, the guy’s ginormous), and oh yeah! I chatted with Yvonne Craig and Sarah Douglas. If Dawn Wells had been there too I probably woulda’ just sat right down and cried…. They all pale in comparison to my beloved wife, of course, but sweet jews for Jesus! Sarah Douglas! And while she signed my autograph, she was whispering about the “freaky” guy who worked her booth for WonderCon, and who may have had an unhealthy crush on Ursa which he wasn’t ashamed to admit or display there on the showroom floor. That’s right… Sarah Douglas confided in me! We’re confidants!

Over the years, I've come to see these men and women in elaborate Star wars costu-- uniforms --as no different from people who join car clubs and host rallies to display their tricked-out hot rods or factory muscle cars... shining them up so everyone can appreciate them. A lot of work goes into these costumes, and while that doesn't make them any harder to ridicule, it does make them a little easier to respect. Plus this guy? He's dressed as Elvis... in a Stormtrooper uniform. That's a hunka' hunka' trooper love, baby.

That's right, Mike and Laura Allred smooching. Judging from what I saw though, that's probably not such an uncommon sight to see. They're the cutest couple in comicdom... count on it, true believers.

Yvonne Craig, meanwhile, gave us some sage advice for anyone celebrating a 40th birthday: she explained that the 41st year generally sucks for various (and colorful, as she described them) reasons. So, she said, celebrate “40,” then next year? Either celebrate “40” again, or skip to “42.” Then, the following year? Celebrate “42” one more time. Curse of the 41st birthday avoided, and all thanks to the woman who played Marta, Batgirl and any number of dancing debutantes in Elvis films.

'till today, Autograph Row always kinda' freaked me out. It used to bother me mostly because it creates a situation -- pay me $25 and I'll talk to you -- that somehow rings false. It would be so much better if the conventions could pay the actors, make it part of the admission price, and put them in a position where they could give their autographs for free.

I've been using the past tense because my stance on convention autographs has come full circle. While I've read Internet tales of D-list celebrities who act like jerks to fans, I've witnessed nothing but positives from the exchanges. This year, I sat back 10 feet and watched 85-year-old Noel Neill for about 15 minutes and she seemed to be having a particularly great time interacting with the appreciative crowd. If it doesn't bother her or the person paying, why should it bother me?

Two words: Bob Fuckin' Wilkins.

The original "Boomer" from Battlestar Galactica! Reading a paperback! His homemade Battlestar Galactica sign made me laugh out loud... 'till it made me cry while I watched passersby sniff dismissively at it as they hurried past to talk to Lassie's "Timmy."

When we made it upstairs we were treated to an hour with Kevin Smith, and sneak peek at Clerks II. I have to admit I haven’t been optimistic about this film, but the clip was awesome! And would someone tell me, please, when Jason Mewes transmogrified into a supermodel? The guy looks great! Even while he mugged to “Goodbye Horses” in an uncomfortable nod to Silence of the Lambs. It’s enough to make me consider chasing the dragon for awhile, then quitting so a portly pal will write a movie for me.

The main event was Bryan Singer’s Q&A to an SRO crowd late in the afternoon. He brought the same reel he took to ComicCon last summer. It still brought me to tears. He looked really uncomfortable, and only relaxed a little when he unexpectedly called out a surprise guest… Mr Brandon Routh!

Nancy actually swooned.

The two of them (Bryan and Brandon, not Brandon and Nancy. Jeeze, she swooned but she didn't abandon me) took questions from the audience, commented on how scary it was to be up there, and generally displayed such respect and love for Superman that we all left confident that these men are fine caretakers of the Man of Steel.

The Superman Returns crowd was filled with die-hard fans, not industry types, so no one was impolite enough to ask about the budget that gossip column types say is soaring out of control. Instead, Bryan and Brandon answered questions about the size of the "S" on the costume (some fans think it's too small) and the size of Brandon's codpiece (some fans think it's too big).

Brandon fired off a pretty good line saying, "Frankly, I don't see the uproar about it, but I suppose you can file it under good news," before describing the codpiece as "like a baseball player's protection, except softer because I don't have to worry about getting hit."

And that, somehow, summed up the day for me. Spending the day at WonderCon with Nancy... happy and safe, my wonderful, patient, indulging wife at my side.... For all of the crap we endure day to day, and all the shit that gets thrown at us... Saturday?

I didn't have to worry about getting hit.