I can't believe it's this time of year again. Where did 2009 go? Where did my summer go?
Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining, I'm just perplexed at the passage of time, especially summer time. Since it was snowing in my corner of the prairie through May, I suppose this is partly why I'm discombobulated. But it feels like I was just posting the first images of Iron Man 2, and crossing my fingers to get into the Hall H panel.
A lot of people loathe ComicCon. A lot of industry people regard it with a mixture of sadness, regret, and nostalgia. This is an event that began in a guy's basement, and boasted nothing more than a few boxes of comics. Now it's this megalith of pop culture where comics and their longboxes are taking a smaller and smaller seat at the table. Actually, I think many -- not just comic book professionals -- feel the con has been taken away from them. Fans lament the focus, the crowds and occasionally grim "Welcome to ComicCon, time to queue up!" atmosphere. ComicCon used to be a casual geek party. Now it's an obstacle course that even Rambo would sweat to navigate. (Since Stallone is coming to the con this year, we should totally put it to the test!)
SDCC is a weird event for me. On one hand, it's become something I almost dread, but it also feels like a bit of a homecoming or renewal. This is where I started this oddball job of mine. Now, I hate to get sentimental and mawkish, but it felt right to do a more personal column and save up all agonizing "Why did they ruin it?" ammunition for upcoming weeks. Plus, I may even have some interviews to run in this space instead. Neat! So, bear with me -- and hopefully share your own deep, dark, and wistful stories at the end.