Letters From The Loft

If you count Day Zero, today was really Day Five of the Con, but we didn’t want to re-ignite that old Millennium controversy, so we decided not to attend and still say we were there for four days. Sunday is traditionally a day where the panels are geared toward a younger audience. (It used to be that the comic industry was trying to convince everybody that comics weren’t just for kids. Now that the comics audience is comprised mostly of older adolescents and arrested adolescents like me, the industry would love to recapture the younger demographic whose longer life expectancy could be devoted to buying comics.) So we usually attend on Sunday only if we want to cruise the Exhibition Hall one more time and try to pick up some bargains from exhibitors that only wanted to haul inventory into the building, or if we want our faces painted. Otherwise, we usually sleep in on Sunday, then head for home.

The hotel, of course, offered in-room checkout, where you use the interactive function on the TV to check out of the room. But for some reason, it wouldn’t allow me to complete the checkout, so we had to use the front desk. I think the hotel management just wanted to see the 3 grown men who spent four nights there and ignored the in-room porn movies in order to watch The Food Network and cartoons.

The ride home was rather quiet, as we silently reflected on the past few days… well, somewhat silently… there was some snoring involved, but I kept mine to a minimum, since I was driving. During the last few return trips from the Comic-Con, I have the same realization as the year before, yet it always seems brand new. It’s nothing profound (apparently the profundity gene is connected to the sensitivity gene, both of which Sue had to provide to my sons), and can be summed up in six words: Man, I had a good time. Partly it’s the Convention itself… in spite of the Soylent Green-level of humanity present (and I’m still suspicious of what the pretzel-dogs are made of), I really enjoy watching the people and seeing what’s there. And because I love stories and how they’re made, there’ll always be something of interest for me there.

But most of all, I love going with Ben and Sam. When Sue went with us, it was great… it was an impressive demonstration of how much she loves me, and she added a sane person’s perspective that was refreshing. But that same sanity made her eventually realize that putting up with me for over 33 years is also a pretty impressive display of affection, and perhaps she didn’t have to rub shoulders with 125,000 of geekdom’s finest to drive the point home.

Instead, it’s a few days with just us guys, and it presents a great opportunity to have some serious father-son chats, which, of course, never happen. But regardless, I spend some time with two young men that I find interesting, engaging, enjoyable, and decent, and I’m in awe that they managed to get that way with me as their father. Until I get to Heaven, these trips will be counted as some of the best times of my life, especially when you include the three of us getting home and sharing the trip with Sue.

But please don’t tell them that I said so.