San Diego Comic-Con 1995

Originally published August 25, 1995, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1136

Varied and sundry thoughts from the San Diego Comic Con:

My time signing at the Marvel booth was very educational. Much of my time was spent watching fans dart past me to get to John Romita Jr. or Dan Jurgens. It was particularly uncomfortable on Thursday, when I was the only pro at the autographing table and the fans were far too entranced looking at the Fleer or Toy Biz display to bother with some dumb old writer.

It wasn’t being ignored that I minded so much. It was when they’d bellow over the booth loudspeaker, with just a touch of desperation, “And Peter David, writer of Incredible Hulk, is sitting right over there ready to sign your comics! Really! Honest! Peter David, right there!” And fans would glance my way in vague disinterest before returning their gaze to something truly important, like the next Wolverine action figure. I felt like an unwanted K-Mart special.

I had better attendance later on (by startling lack of coincidence, more people came by when we were giving out free copies of Hulk) but those long periods where crickets chirped in front of me helped remind me of my place in the hierarchy of many Marvel fans: Somewhere below action figures and collector cards.

* * *

I was scheduled to give a writer’s workshop at 1:30 p.m. Thursday. They put me in a room for 30 people. I figured six people would show up. Instead we crammed in 50, and over 100 more were turned away at the door.

I was informed that the organizers had no idea that I would “be so popular.” I can’t blame them; they must have come by the Marvel booth. They asked if I’d be willing to do a second workshop on Friday. I said, “Okay.”

I showed up the next day at a room large enough to accommodate 100 people.

Six people showed up. Peter David, master of timing.

Which reminds me of a joke:

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

The Interrupting Cow.

The Interrupting C—?

Moooo.

(If that makes no sense, do it with a friend. Then it should.)

* * *

As the convention progressed, I was put in mind of two people who weren’t there for staggeringly different reasons.

One was long-time Chicago retailer Lee Tennant, who was back in the hospital. Here’s a guy who had no end of health problems, transplants, etc., and endures his struggle for survival with constant good humor and determination.

And the other was Penthouse Comix editor George Carrogone, who had plunged 45 floors to his death not long ago. A man whose long struggle with substance abuse and personal demons resulted in a long, downward plunge—in every morbid sense of the phrase.

Two guys, one fighting for life and the other throwing it away. Neither of them at San Diego. Both missed.

* * *

Half a dozen fans asked me, “Are the buses here yet?” in reference to a disastrous screening of the film Oblivion at last year’s SDCC, for which the buses arranged for had never bothered to show up.

While fans who had arrived by other means waited impatiently in the theater, hundreds (well, dozens maybe) of other fans were stranded at the convention center until substitute buses could be rounded up to transport them. The film started an hour and a half late, and I was so desperate to entertain the fans already present that I even wound up doing a dramatic reading of a comic picked at random: Hulk #340. Which, by the way, I never realized just how badly written it was until I did the whole thing out loud.

I know they say that one looks back upon such snafus and catastrophes and, eventually, laughs over them. Well, it’s been a year and it’s still a painful memory. Maybe by the turn of the century.

In commemoration of that nightmare a year ago, at this year’s SDCC one fan even gave me a little yellow bus with the company’s name emblazoned on its side, accompanied by an action figure of the Hulk pounding the snot out of the toy bus.

* * *

I missed Elvira at the Claypool table on Saturday. Now my life will never be complete.

* * *

At the Eisner awards, I happened to notice that Joe Sinnott was wearing fire-engine-red pants. This was marginally noteworthy in that the pants seemed to go with the much-commented-upon jacket that Michael Davis was wearing to the CBG awards at Chicago earlier in the month.

Thank God Davis wasn’t wearing the jacket to the Eisners. If Davis’ jacket had come into proximity with Sinnott’s pants, the subsequent violent and sudden release of energy might have blown the roof off the Marriott.

* * *

Most emotional moment of the awards ceremony was when CBG‘s own Maggie Thompson won the Bob Clampett Humanitarian Award. I don’t remember exactly what she said in accepting it, but it was very emotional and everyone got choked up.

* * *

At the Marvel booth, the project I got the most questions about was the Hulk/Pitt team-up, the poster for which was directly behind me. The fans seemed tremendously excited about it. (I’ll be writing it, Dale drawing it.)

I was somewhat disheartened to hear from Dale’s reps that some members of Image were angry about the entire concept. Dale’s reps even claimed that many attending the Wildstorm party Saturday night cold-shouldered them. Here one of my motivations for doing the book was to lay to rest the entire notion that I hate anyone associated with Image, and some of them are still teed off. Guess there’s no satisfying some folks.

* * *

Many people I’d really like to chat with (Mark Evanier, Tony Isabella, Steve Geppi, Chris Claremont, Walter Wang, Jeff Smith, lots of other folks) I only catch fleeting glimpses of. Yet mysteriously, folks I’d rather not see I keep running into with almost uncanny frequency.

* * *

Another joke:

Guy goes to a psychiatrist, says, “Doctor, I have this problem. I think I’m a pup tent. No, I’m a teepee! A pup tent! A teepee!”

Psychiatrist says, “Well, there’s your problem. You’re two tents.”

Get it? Two tents? Too tense? Get it? Huh?

Aw, well, who asked you?

* * *

The merger of Disney and ABC seems to me to be a variation of what’s happening in the comic industry right now, except of course to the Nth degree.

For instance, I think of DreamWorks SKG, populated by people who had broken away from and/or hated Disney. Cutting its deal with ABC to produce Saturday morning animation—and then the participants suddenly finding themselves working for Disney again.

It’s like when creators who had formerly worked for Marvel, and were dissatisfied, banded together for the Bravura line at Malibu, which was then purchased by Marvel so that the Bravura folks were right back where they started.

* * *

The Comic Book Professionals Association official “Neat Stuff” package made its debut at the SDCC. Folks paying $50 to join the CBPA (dedicated to trying to put together health care, discount packages, and other things available only to groups) received a carry bag, a baseball cap, a portfolio case, a screwdriver set (for anyone who’d ever been screwed in the industry) and a scrambler puzzle, all with the CBPA logo silk screened on.

It went quickly. Tell people they’ll get health care benefits down the line and they’ll hesitate. Tell them they’ll get neat stuff upon joining and they’re ready to go.

* * *

I saw a screening of a new film called Mallrats on Thursday. If I were the age I was when I saw Animal House, I’d think it was hilarious. I’m hardly the target age for Mallrats (the adventures of a couple of guys who hang around the local mall to ease the sorrow of their girls breaking up with them), but the audience it’s made for will love it.

It was notable for comic fans in that there are plenty of references to comic books (and even riffs on such films as Batman), and also because Stan Lee made an appearance playing—in a burst of casting against type—Stan Lee. I don’t think DeNiro is losing any sleep over him, but Stan (bearded, no less) acquits himself well.

Also, one of the characters is a dead ringer for Bob Schreck of Dark Horse. It’s not him, but the character’s even named “Silent Bob,” just to add to the confusion.

* * *

We made our annual post-SDCC pilgrimage to Disneyland in Anaheim. We knew that Mark Gruenwald and his family would be there, but we figured the odds of running into them were nonexistent. We ran into them at New Orleans Square.

We went on the Indiana Jones ride. It’s nothing short of fabulous, with dazzling effects and a white-knuckle ride aboard the troop transport that conveys you through it. When you pass through the poison dart sequence, the combination of sharp air hissing and the sounds convince your mind that darts are flying past even though nothing is there.

Highlights include the swaying bridge over the volcanic cauldron, and the giant boulder that threatens to flatten your car.

As noted, highly recommended.

* * *

The turnout for my autographings at the Claypool table was significantly higher than the turnout at Marvel. Coincidence? Happenstance? You decide.

(Peter David can be written to at Second Age, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705. Jokes courtesy of Dr. Katz, Therapist on Comedy Central. If you’re not already watching it, start.)