I’d never been to a convention before, at least not of this magnitude. Sure, I’ve done the odd hotel-based training experiences or those weird three-day seminars, but this was different. Nobody could have prepared me for just how overwhelming and exhilarating an experience I would have, and they did try to prepare me.
For those who haven’t yet attended, you really have to go. Although, when I think about it, it sure seemed like everyone in the world was at the San Diego Convention Center. There were so many people in every crevice of space that I’m not sure if there’s anyone left on Earth that hasn’t attended. All the same, make this a priority for next year.
At the Con, a typical everyday person like me can find himself mere feet from giants like Stan Lee or the cast of Heroes. The stars of our favorite TV shows answer fan questions and linger for autographs and pictures, bridging the assumed gap between star and fan.
There are stars in more places than I expected. I saw Ludacris walk the halls with two huge body guards, amid shouts of ‘Luda!’ from every direction. I think I shared an elevator with Tyrese, though I was too timid to ask if it was really him. Even Denzel Washington was walking the booths and checking things out.
But what’s really interesting to me is not the presence of superstars, but the fact that nobody seemed to notice them. It’s a different environment, and regular movie celebrities and recording artists are not on the same plane as the incarnation of Batman walking up and down the halls, or Princess Leia sharing a soda with Pikachu.
In this world, the mythology is what’s important. The characters that we all love are brought to life in a sort of ritualistic worship. We do love Stan Lee, and we adore our TV stars, but it’s really all about the stories and characters. It’s all about worshiping this culture to which we belong. That’s Comic-Con.
