The show is something of a phenomena. It started out as a small local show in 2002 with just a few hundred attendees. In 2008 I showed up as an attendee to scout it out and see if it was something World Famous Comics might want to exhibit at. At the time it was still smallish, although it had grown from just a few hundred attendees to over 5000, and had an impressive guest list for such a small show.

Attendance has continued to increase at the show in a pretty dramatic fashion. By 2010 attendance had doubled to nearly 14,000. This year I’m told attendance was 24,000.

The guest list was huge. Off the top of my head there was Leonard Nimoy, Stan Lee, George Takei, Bruce Boxleitner, Adam Baldwin, and, uh… that one guy. From the comics books? It was a big list, and very diverse, with celebrities from genre shows and movies, artists and writers from comics, authors, and anime voice actors.

The ground was young, energetic and high spirited. The exhibit hall was large and well outfitted. I’m not embarrassed to note that the bathrooms at the Phoenix Convention Center are among the best and nicest smelling bathrooms I’ve ever used. Even after three days of rampaging nerds the floors were clean and it had a slight whiff of potpourri.

For reasons that I don’t really understand, Arizona appears to be some kind of costly hub. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a show with such a high percentage of attendees in costume. I would think that such a hot location would deter costumers, but that doesn’t appear to be the case. You can check out my photos here.

All in all, it was a quality show, and I think there’s a good chance we’ll return next year. Even if Aaron Douglas is still mad at us.

I had never been to WonderCon before, and when ever I considered that, it always struck me as a little odd. Friends and colleagues are frequently telling me how great of a show it is. It’s well inside my Sphere of Practical Travel. It’s a relatively cheap show. San Francisco is a pretty cool town to visit. So, why had I never been before?

I’d heard that it was a show with all the professional draw of San Diego Comic Con, without the lunatic sized crowds and mega Hollywood over exposure. A calmer and more fan friendly show with a much wider variety of nearby restaurants and sights all packaged up in a some how more intimate package. Why not go?

So I dove in.

I got my logistics machine rolling, started talking to my regular crew of artists and collaborators and made sure that I had certain key materials. You know, like merchandise and the actual booth frame work that we’d spent so much time working on.

Didn’t I tell you? If you didn’t see us at San Diego last year, you may not know that we have this shiny new booth. Gone is the slapstick shanty town construction of cardboard held together with packing tape and twine. In it’s place is a semiprofessional looking shanty town construction of PVC and cotton fabric. It all breaks down and stores away in a suit case. As it turns out, a very heavy suit case.

So I got all that crap together, filled out my tax forms, and bought some plane tickets. Then everyone started to drop out on me. My regular show partner Jeff couldn’t make it, The Fillbachs and Joe Corroney were on a deadline, The Millers were going to a tennis tournament (or something), John Lustig was having medical problems, and Dan Parsons seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth along with his webpage. Spencer Brinkerhoff (the III) was fighting a mysterious conspiracy of Arizona speed traps and a cabal of judicial inefficiency. Justin Chung could make it, but hell the dude lived five blocks from the convention center, so that was no real coup.

Still, the money was already spent, so I figured I might as well stick to the plan. At the last minute, John said he was going to make it after all, and Dan Parsons reappeared in central California, and Katie Cook sent me a bunch of merchandise to resell. All the sudden we had a show again. I even found out I had a helper in the form of Dana, a woman I had met once during an unfortunate episode of sweater loss. I was so excited I had some T-shirts made that no one wanted to buy. Live and learn I guess.

In many ways WonderCon was like every other show we do. There were a lot of really fun fans, and a few really odd ones. I met some really interesting people and made some good contacts. I failed to entice any publishers with my work, largely by failing to provide it to any of them. I stood for too long, drank too much, and sleep too little. I crashed some parties. And in some way, all those things did unfold in a slower, more intimate way than they did in the chaos of San Diego.

I had a good time. I think I’ll go back. If I can get better booth placement.

You may have noticed that there’s still no update to Major Tom. I get asked that from time to time. “Hey, when are you gonna update Major Tom?” Sometimes they take the opportunity to call me names, or insult my genetic heritage or work ethic. Honestly, no one wants to see updates more than me.

Here’s the thing though. The Fillbach Brothers have obligations and deadlines. They just finished a Clone Wars book, and they’re barricaded in their house working on another project as I write this. Those are jobs that pay money. There’s like 8 or 9 people who read this comic, and the ad revenue totals about $3 a year. Nobody works for free.

Well, except for me.

I have a complicated relationship with Comic Con. San Diego Comic Con is only four and a half days. Four and a half days that seems to last a lifetime until it’s over, when it feels like it passed all too soon. When it’s over, I’m left feeling emotionally and physically exhausted, while simultaneously regretting that it’s all over.

For the last two years I’ve been at an exhibitors booth, and for the two years prior to that, I assisted in Artist Alley. I haven’t been to a panel in years, and I rarely get an opportunity to actually walk the floor and see the show. When the show closes for the night, we stay out drinking until the wee hours of the morning. When the show opens, we have to be there half an hour early to set up. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a total of a full nights sleep spread over the five days.

In this image we are probably not drunk

At some level, I’m not sure why I still go.

At another level, a level that I understand almost instinctively, I know I will continue to go. I will continue to complain of the aches in my back and knees, the long nights and early mornings, the sometimes irritating but often delightful fans, and I’ll do it for a simple reason.

The people.

Buy her cat book!

See that lady? That’s Katie Cooke. She’s awesome, in just about every way. I met her at Comic Con five or six years ago I think, in a round about way so ridiculously coincidental and improbably that it sounds like fiction.

Every year I meet people, both fans and pros, who are exceptional. Not just exceptional artists or writers, although those exist in spades, but simply exceptional people. People I want to spend time with. People who I count as friends, and family.

Also, there’s hot girls dressed up in skimpy costumes.

Yowhza

That’s cool too.

See you next year in San Diego.

The counter lesson is that it’s not possible to play the game without war. Part of that is because Civilization is a game based around the goal of global conquest, and so any comparison between it and the real world is a touch juvenile. Despite that, war remains a necessary practical reality of the real world.

Regardless of your feelings about war, or the involvement in your nation in it, the 4th of July is not a simple jingoistic celebration of violence, imperialism or national offense. It is a celebration of victory over tyranny, of freedom, of independence. Celebrate in any way you see fit. Grill hot dogs, watch the race, shoot off some fireworks, punch aliens in the face, this is your day, do with it what you will.

For many Americans it’s a solemn occaison.They decorate grave, raise flags, and shake the remaining hand of an old man with a grim face.

For others it’s just another three day weekend. An excuse to go to the beach and drink during the day.

For some, it’s an opportunity to complain about what they perceive as the dangers of nationalism and the glorification of military service.

I’m a veteran myself, and I don’t much care for the latter group. I think they’re a bit naive, but I spent my time in the Army so they could say those kinds of things if they wanted to. I don’t really hold it against them.

For me, Memorial day is about remembering and reflection. Reflection on the sacrifices of those before me, and those to come.

Which doesn’t mean I’m not going to take the opportunity to drink during the day.

In this, Captain Freebird and I are of a similar mind.