Agency opening ceremonies

Next time someone at your agency starts yapping about team players, and trust me, someone always does, tell them to put their uniforms and flags where their mouth is.

In just a few months, the 2020 summer Olympics in Tokyo will be upon us. Because the Olympic committee didn't ask me when they should schedule the games, they happen to start around the same time I'll be in San Diego for this year's Comic Con, so you can let me know how many gold medals we won later.

Sitting here, eating onion rings and a tuna melt—as the best athletes do—and thinking about the upcoming Olympic opening ceremonies, it occurs to me what all those team player loving agency big wigs should do. Every morning, after their warmup stretches and carb-loading, they should lead their various agency delegations into the office in an inspiring, heartwarming, intricately choreographed display of unity called the Parade Of Work™.

Instead of flags, they'd have copies of agency work carried in on poles, blowing aimlessly in the wind—which coincidentally is where you find a lot of it anyway.

People in each department would be broken into teams: instead of luge, cross-country skiing and bobsled, there would be digital. Social. Brand. Retail. CRM. All marching proudly into their open office spaces.

Of course before any of this could happen, the agency would have to devote more than a few non-billable hours to coming up with team uniforms for each division. Not sure exactly what they'd come up with, but I imagine there wouldn't be any shortage of knit caps, torn jeans, off-brand sneakers and my personal favorite, black t-shirts with the agency logo front and center.

The good news is players wouldn't be bothered with oppressive rules like no beards, tattoos, open-toed shoes or friendship bracelets. There wouldn't be anyone left if they were.

And as they get ready to start each day, the team captains would make it a point to remind them about the importance of staying focused, working as a team and good sportsmanship. That and, contrary to what they may believe, it's just advertising.

Not the Hunger Games.

What's in your wallet?

The day after Christmas, somehow I was able to overcome my food coma from our annual Christmas morning brunch and actually get a few things done. One of them was something I'd been meaning to do for years (if you said "Get a real job" calm down - you're not the first).

For some reason I never was able to find the time for this particular chore. But after years of procrastination, it finally happened: I cleaned out my wallet.

Oh sure, it may not seem like a big accomplishment to you, but considering the amount of paperwork and junk I was carrying around it was definitely life-changing. Well, okay. Pocket changing. The best way to describe the process is it was alternately a trip down memory lane, and a slog through a land fill.

If you know anything about me - and after over 1000 blogposts you probably know more than you want to - you know I'm usually an exceptionally organized person. As a rule, I like to clean as I go. I'm good that way. I put things (and when necessary, people) in their place in real time so I don't have to come back and do it later. Occasionally though, it's not always possible to do.

For example, my wallet was loaded with restaurant receipts I meant to file away in my incredibly organized tax receipt folder the day I got them. It's December, and I was clearing out receipts from as far back as March. The nice part was getting to reminisce about the meals, remember who I had them with and relive them a little bit.

The bad part was my wallet looked like the one in Costanza's hands in the picture.

Also in the billfold were souvenirs from trips I'd been on this past year, mostly in the form of hotel room card keys. I had my Comic Con hotel key from last July, my San Francisco visit room key from October, and discount coupons from each of those hotels for cocktails in their swingin' bars.

There were little notes to myself about things that seemed important at the time, and a few lines I thought were funny and I should remember.

The big surprise was that I'd actually been carrying around more than a few of the 500 Innocean business cards I got when I first started there. Of course now, they're collector's items which could probably fetch in the high $1's on eBay. A lot of the time I keep stuff using the "just in case I need it..." approach. Pretty sure I won't be needing them. And besides, my shredder needs something to do.

The nice part about all that clutter out of my wallet is it's considerably thinner now, and folds comfortably in my front pocket.

Plus now when I hug somebody I don't have to say, "Don't worry, it's just my wallet."

2019 Edition: The Con is on

I don't usually repost pieces on here. But it's the Comic Con time of year again, and I was going to write a post about going. Again. But then I reread this little gem and realized it said exactly what I wanted to say. Again. We don't have to re-invent the wheel each time out people. Let's just take tonight's post at face value, and enjoy the writing for what it is - an excuse not to think of something new to write. Wait? Did I say that out loud?

Don't say you haven't been warned. For four and a half days this week, my son and I will be living amongst 'em (well, actually we'll be living at the Hilton and walking amongst 'em, but no one's under oath here): the Stormtroopers, Wolverines, Lara Crofts, Jokers, Iron Men, Darth Vaders, Zombies, Batmen, Supermen and other assorted, costumed inhabitants of Comic Con.

As you can see here and here, this isn't the first time I've written about the Con. And it won't be the last.

Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not saying it's the only subject I'll post about for the next few days. But if you happen to notice my writing in the Thursday through Sunday posts have a nerdist, geekesque, maybe-I-ought-to-get-a-life, gee-he-sounds-REALLY-tired quality to them, then I've done my job and you'll know we're having a fine time.

For those who've never been - and really, like the Rolling Stones or Rick Perry trying to complete a sentence, it's something you need to see at least once in your life - please to enjoy this little taste of my next four days.

Welcome to my world.

Culture club

You see a lot of sameness at Comic Con. Everywhere you look, there are people dressed up in costume, engaging in one of Merriam Webster's most recent word additions: cosplay.

For four days every July, the San Diego Convention Center is lousy with Stormtroopers, Ghostbusters, Jokers, Batmans, Supermans, Laura Crofts, Sleeping Beautys, Spidermans, Harley Quinns, Wolverines, Harry Potters, every character from Game Of Thrones and more. They are collectively all part of what the press likes to smugly dub "The Nerd Culture."

The word "culture" has become the go to adjective to describe large groups of people who generally share the same interests, have the same collective experience or do the same thing, together or separately. Much in the same way "-gate" is added to even the most minuscule hint of scandal.

There's a service culture. A truth culture. Modern culture. Art culture. Social culture. Fashion culture. Hero culture. I'm even part of one—blog culture.

Ironically, there's no yogurt culture. See what I did there?

Anyway, this label seems unnecessary. In many instances, it seems the word "community" would work just fine. Besides, practitioners of nerd culture are really just pop culture lovers with more free time, fewer girlfriends and less employment than the rest of us who enjoy the occasional Iron Man film or Walking Dead Experience.

This is my tenth Comic Con, and I've spoken to a lot of the people who attend over the years. Here's where I net out (pardon the ad lingo): if "nerd culture" means feeling confident enough to enthusiastically express how much you love a certain art form, having the freedom not to care what anyone thinks, retaining the innocence to believe there is still heroism left in the world and people are capable of rising to their better selves, then I only have one thing to say.

I'm all for it.

Glass slipper

While it's not a picture of my foot, it may as well be. Here's what happened.

About nine days ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with a craving for cold, clear, healthy water from the dispenser in our refrigerator. I'm absolutely sure it had nothing to do with the leftover cheesecake that was also in there. No one's under oath here. Anyway, somewhere on the well worn path between the bedroom and kitchen, I stepped on a small piece of glass. Funny how that'll wake you right up.

I reached down, pulled it out of my foot, threw it away and continued on to the cheesecake. Excuse me, water.

Fast forward to last night. I came home from having lunch with my great friend Carrie (Petros in Manhattan Beach - chicken souvlaki is the hot tip), got out of the car, set my foot down and could barely walk. I managed to make it into the house, fell into one of our living room chairs (the one without the dog on it), and stayed there most of the night.

Since the glass stepping happened a week and half ago, and I'd been fine since, I didn't give it a second thought. Instead, I figured it was the new orthotics I'd gotten about five days ago and was still getting used to.

Whatever it was, it hurt like hell. And the bad news is that I was supposed to leave with young Mr. Spielberg for Comic Con this morning.

However, it was not the pain-free foot morning I'd hoped for. I was going to tough it out and just go - always a good idea with four days of walking and standing in lines ahead - but the wife put her foot down (SWIDT?), insisting I call my podiatrist and get it seen.

So my son drove down to Comic Con with his friend Austin at 7 this morning, and I saw my doctor at 10.

My foot was clearly swollen, with a redness emanating out in a circle from one spot on my foot. He pressed the center of the spot, and I believe there may still be a hole in his ceiling where I went through.

So he decided to scrape my foot, which is exactly what it sounds like.

Scraping skin off the bottom of my foot, he wasn't having any luck finding anything. Then, he stopped for a moment and said, "Ah, there it is - don't move." I didn't move, and he got a tweezer-looking thing and pulled out a small chunk of the glass I'd stepped on nine days ago.

I couldn't believe it. He said if I'd come down here to the Con with it, I probably would've wound up in the ER with a fever and nasty infection. Instead, he got it out, gave me an antibiotic to take if it didn't feel better by the end of today (which it does) and suggested I soak it in hot water with epsom salt (just finished my second soaking).

Fortunately tonight was Preview Night at Comic Con, so I didn't miss much except walking the exhibition hall, which I couldn't have done anyway.

My son and his friend scored tickets to the world premiere of Star Trek: Beyond, so that's where they are tonight. My excellent friend Dale is here, so he met me at the Fox Sports Grill in the hotel and we had dinner (it didn't involve walking, just an elevator ride).

With my foot feeling considerably better, the Con will start for real for me tomorrow.

I still don't know what broke in our house or where that piece of glass came from.

But I think the lesson is don't have cheesecake leftovers, and I won't have to walk to the kitchen.

Packing for the Con. Again.

If this post has a familiar ring to it, then you probably read it just about a year ago when it was first published. I rarely repost on here, but this post says everything I want to say about Comic Con starting tomorrow. And my preparations for it tonight.

So, enjoy it, again, and excuse my taking the easy way out by reposting. But if it ain't broke don't fix it. And besides, that Game Of Thrones costume isn't going to pack itself.

Tomorrow is the day it all starts. Well, the night actually.

Even though Comic Con doesn't officially begin until Thursday, tomorrow night is Preview Night. The costumed crowds get admitted to the Convention Center in the early evening to get a jump on the weekend crowds walking the floor and picking up some merchandise.

Of course I'll be there.

So that means tonight I have to pack. It's something I've never quite learned to do right. You'd think being in advertising and with all the boondoggles...er...business trips I've taken I'd be better at it. I'm not unskilled in the sense I don't know how to organize a suitcase. It's my approach to the job.

I pack on the Just In Case theory. You know, just in case there's a hurricane or blizzard in San Diego. Just in case we're hit by a tornado. Just in case we're invaded by aliens, which at Comic Con is a definite possibility.

Here's what's happened every year I've gone: I drag my overstuffed suitcase to the hotel, and proceed to wear the same pair of shorts for four days. All I really need is four t-shirts (yes Rich, black ones), four pairs of underwear, four pairs of socks, a sweatshirt and sneakers. Maybe a clean pair of jeans, a nice pair of shoes and a collared shirt if I want to go eat somewhere nice.

But when you're in restaurants during Comic Con, and finally seated after a two and a half hour wait, it's not unusual at all to find yourself sitting next to Spartans, Batman, those guys from Game Of Thrones and Loki. Dressing nice becomes a relative term.

So I'll give it another shot this year, with the hope I can be a little more economical in how much I take with me.

Frankly, I think the bigger challenge will be closing the suitcase with this in it.

Stardate 7202016

It's the most recognizable starship in the fleet. And in July, it's docking in San Diego. Well, on the big screen anyway.

July 20th, the next installment of the franchise - Star Trek Beyond - is going to have its world premiere at Comic Con. And, if you know anything about me, you know that when it comes to Star Trek vs. Star Wars, while having great appreciation and affection for the latter, I've always been Team Kirk first and foremost.

I've also had a lifetime worth of Comic Cons. I've been to the last ten or eleven of them, and at this point, as the kids say, been there done that.

The problem is I have a film major living with me for the summer, and Comic Con is like breathing to him. So, despite the same reluctance I have every year, come July we'll be packing up the energy bars, the Stark Industries t-shirts, the camera and the credit cards and heading down San Diego way.

I wasn't excited about it until I heard about the premiere. I've actually been to one world premiere at Comic Con. That's the good news. The bad news is it was Cowboys & Aliens. The movie wasn't as bad as the critics made it out to be, but in the end it just didn't work (Note to Chung: it was still better than Interstellar). However, Harrison Ford sat in front of us and Daniel Craig was ten seats down in our row, so it wasn't a total wash.

At this point they haven't announced how the tickets will be distributed or who will get them. Maybe a lottery. Maybe lining up days ahead of time. Maybe a last minute announcement and a mad dash to the theater.

Oh, speaking of the theater, did I mention it's going to be screened at an outdoor IMAX theater, with Michael Giacchino conducting the San Diego Symphony orchestra, performing his score along side the screening? True fact. It's going to be worth it, no matter what we have to go through to get there.

Unless it's drinking Romulan ale. I hate that stuff.

Star Wars wars

If you haven't seen Star Wars Vll yet there are some SPOILERS here. Warned you have been.

Here's the thing: I've been to Comic Con the last eight years. I've slept out on the cold, wet grass with 6500 of my closest friends waiting in line for Hall H while looking across the street at my empty $300 a night hotel room. I've fought the crowds, seen the panels and been thrilled by exclusive footage that's available online seconds after it's shown. My pop culture/geek/nerd credentials are firmly intact, and I have the badges to prove it.

Having said that, I don't feel I'm under any obligation to fall lockstep in line with everyone who's gushing over the new Star Wars. For the record, I liked it. Didn't love it, but liked it.

I know this will be a hard landing for hardcore fans, and I'm sorry you have to find out this way, but it's not a perfect film.

People who don't have the energy to come out of their basements somehow seem to muster enough to relentlessly tell me why I'm wrong in my opinion. Even though it's my opinion. And even though I'm right in my facts and critique.

Anyway, the fact I'm not worshipping at the Star Wars altar shouldn't take anything away from your enjoyment of the film. Or maybe I have some unseen power, some ancient, mystical ability if you will where I can use my mind to exert my will over you that lets me crush your pleasure at seeing the movie. But I doubt it.

Have at it. Enjoy all fifteen times you're going to see it. I want you to. I'll still ask why Kylo Ren assigns only one Stormtrooper to guard Rey, the most valuable prisoner ever. Or why Finn, having never held a light saber, is suddenly able to hold his own against the dark side of the force in a light saber battle with Kylo Ren. Or why Kylo Ren didn't just "force" him into oblivion without working up a sweat. Or if Kylo Ren is leader of the Knights of Ren, why there are no other Knights of Ren in the movie? Or about 37 other questions you're free to ignore.

I love J.J. Abrams, and I liked Star Wars Vll. It's a fun, nostalgic, visually great popcorn movie with great new characters, one breakout new star and a fairly perfect ending. I'm sure I'll see it again. And if it makes you happy, I'll wait in line with you for Star Wars Vlll, but not for the whole three weeks.

But for the love of Lucas, stop arguing with me about it. I'm not trying to change your mind, I'm just letting you know what I think. No matter how many times you come back at me, I'm not going to see it your way.

And, despite whatever new hope you have, you can't force me.

God: On the record

Here at Rotation and Balance, we were lucky enough to catch God while he was in town taking meetings with studio executives about a remake of the story of his life - The Greatest Story Ever Told.

We sat down with lattes, a good attitude and more than a few questions.

RNB: First of all, thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to talk with us.

GOD: I'm pretty good at multi-tasking. And it's my pleasure.

RNB: So do you visit Earth often?

GOD: I'm actually here more than people think, but not in my true form. That'd be a lot for people to handle, bright heavenly light and all. So I wear a disguise when I'm walking around in my earthly form - kind of like Hugh Jackman when he's on the exhibit floor at Comic Con.

RNB: Hugh Jackman walked the floor at Comic Con dressed as Wolverine.

GOD: Brilliant wasn't it? I really got a kick out of that.

RNB: When you look around at the world, what are the first thoughts that come to mind?

GOD: What the heck have you done with the place? Really, I hardly recognize it. I mean, I gave you the knowledge to build factories, cities and cars - that Audi R8 is pretty sweet, right? - but I thought you might take care of the place a little better. I think I may have been a little too generous with that "free will" experiment.

RNB: You couldn't have put that much work into it. I mean it only took you seven days.

GOD: True, but my days aren't the same as your days. They're a lot longer. That reminds me of a joke...

RNB: Go ahead, let's hear it.

GOD: This kid is in church praying to me, and he says, 'God, what's a million dollars like to you?' And I say, 'It's like a penny to you.' Then he says, 'Well, what's a million years like to you?' And I say, 'It's like a second.' So the kid thinks a minute, then says to me, 'God, can I have a penny?' And I say, 'Sure. Just a second.'

RNB: Good one.

GOD: Gets me every time.

RNB: Getting back on track, I'm sure you know about the recent controversies concerning religion and gay marriage.

GOD: All knowing, hello?

RNB: So what do you think about gay marriage?

GOD: You know, it's a good question. Let's start here - you're all my children. I created you all in my image.

RNB: You're not saying...

GOD: What I'm saying is I'm a part of everyone on Earth. My spirit is in all of you. And because you're all my children, like any parent I love you all and want you to be happy. The world's too short on love, why would I want to take it away from anyone?

RNB: A lot of people say you wouldn't approve, and use your name to justify their position.

GOD: I'm more about acceptance than judgement. I sleep better at night that way.

RNB: You actually sleep?

GOD: Well, no. But you get where I'm going.

RNB: Do you resent fringe groups and haters using your name to justify their actions?

GOD: Brother, if I had a dollar for every time someone took my name in vain or used it as an excuse to hurt people, I could afford that new throne I've had my eye on.

RNB: Why do so many people get that wrong?

GOD: I only knows. See what I did there?

RNB: What about the situation in the Middle East?

GOD: I'm not going to lie to you, it's pretty bad. It's like that mess in the corner of your room you keep saying you're going to clean up, and you never do. It's just too overwhelming.

RNB: All due respect, but why don't you just wave your hand and solve the problem?

GOD: All due respect, because then you wouldn't learn the lessons you need to learn.

RNB: And what are those?

GOD: That's for me to know and you to find out. You have to understand, I'm looking at the big picture. Things happen for what looks like no reason. But there always is one. I'm a very careful planner, and I'm not reckless. A lot of what happens, especially the unpleasant things, are designed to make you stronger of character, more compassionate and more vigilant.

RNB: But some truly horrible things have happened.

GOD: Agreed. The sad truth is I'm not the only one at work here. I have some pretty powerful enemies, well, enemy. He can't win, but he makes things tougher for me.

RNB: Is there life after death?

GOD: Is there ever. And the good news is, and I really shouldn't tell you this, but everyone gets past the gates.

RNB: Everyone?

GOD: Yep. Doesn't matter if you believe in me or not, doesn't matter what you've done. I'm big on forgiveness.

RNB: Every heard the phrase "Rock N' Roll Heaven?"

GOD: I dare you to find a better band than the one we've got. Every seat is a good one, AND there are no Ticketmaster fees - if that isn't heaven, I don't know what is.

RNB: There's a lot more to talk about, but I know you have to run. Thanks for spending a little time with us.

GOD: Thank you for having me. And just so you know, even when you see me leave, I'm not really gone.

RNB: How do I know that's true?

GOD: See that guy over there who looks like Hugh Jackman?

Over and out

Another year, another four and a half days of insanity come to an end. Comic Con 2015 is over.

It's hard to know which I enjoy more: the studio panels in gigantic Hall H where they bring out tremendous movie star power and show exclusive footage just for the Comic Con crowd, or watching socially and emotionally arrested nerds come out of their basements once a year and try to interact with actual people.

That's the film they should show in Hall H.

This year had special meaning for me. It was the last Comic Con with my son before he heads off to college in Texas. And even though he'll be back every summer, and we'll be at Comic Con every year he's back, I cherished the time with him much more than in past Cons.

I also made a promise to myself I wasn't going to harsh his buzz by complaining about everything from the massive lines, incredibly unorganized wristband handouts, pizza in Hall H that's actually just cardboard with ketchup (although cardboard and ketchup would be a step up), horrendous traffic getting there and back, and the fact the girl in the skimpy Spartan outfit kept pretending she didn't notice me.

I'm happy to report I kept my promise. As much for myself as for him.

Comic Con really is like seeing The Rolling Stones or going to Paris. It's something everyone should do once. It's a wonder to watch a hundred and thirty thousand people congregate in the same place, with the freedom and joy to dress up, geek out and be who they are without being judged harshly for it.

I imagine for a lot of them, it's not a feeling they get to enjoy often in their real lives.

I'm still trying to catch up on sleep I lost camping out for the more popular panels at the Con. It's good to go, but it's good to be home - relaxing without having to worry when to get in the next line for Hall H.

At least until July 21, 2016.

Packing for the Con

Tomorrow is the day it all starts. Well, the night actually.

Even though Comic Con doesn't officially begin until Thursday, tomorrow night is Preview Night. The costumed crowds get admitted to the Convention Center in the early evening to get a jump on the weekend crowds walking the floor and picking up some merchandise.

Of course I'll be there.

So that means tonight I have to pack. It's something I've never quite learned to do right. You'd think being in advertising and with all the boondoggles...er...business trips I've taken I'd be better at it. I'm not unskilled in the sense I don't know how to organize a suitcase. It's my approach to the job.

I pack on the Just In Case theory. You know, just in case there's a hurricane or blizzard in San Diego. Just in case we're hit by a tornado. Just in case we're invaded by aliens, which at Comic Con is a definite possibility.

Here's what's happened every year I've gone: I drag my overstuffed suitcase to the hotel, and proceed to wear the same pair of shorts for four days. All I really need is four t-shirts (yes Rich, black ones), four pairs of underwear, four pairs of socks, a sweatshirt and sneakers. Maybe a clean pair of jeans, a nice pair of shoes and a collared shirt if I want to go eat somewhere nice.

But when you're in restaurants during Comic Con, and finally seated after a two and a half hour wait, it's not unusual at all to find yourself sitting next to Spartans, Batman, those guys from Game Of Thrones and Loki. Dressing nice becomes a relative term.

So I'll give it another shot this year, with the hope I can be a little more economical in how much I take with me.

Frankly, I think the bigger challenge will be closing the suitcase with this in it.

The Con is on. Again.

Except for this past week, I don't usually repost pieces on here. And I've never reposted a repost. But it's the Comic Con time of year again, and I was going to write a post about going. Again. But then I reread this little gem and realized it said exactly what I wanted to say. Again. We don't have to re-invent the wheel each time out people. Let's just take tonight's post at face value, and enjoy the writing for what it is - an excuse not to think of something new to write. Wait? Did I say that out loud?

Don't say you haven't been warned. For four and a half days this week, my son and I will be living amongst 'em (well, actually we'll be living at the Hilton and walking amongst 'em, but no one's under oath here): the Stormtroopers, Wolverines, Lara Crofts, Jokers, Iron Men, Darth Vaders, Zombies, Batmen, Supermen and other assorted, costumed inhabitants of Comic Con.

As you can see here and here, this isn't the first time I've written about the Con. And it won't be the last.

Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not saying it's the only subject I'll post about for the next few days. But if you happen to notice my writing in the Wednesday through Sunday posts have a nerdist, geekesque, maybe-I-ought-to-get-a-life, gee-he-sounds-REALLY-tired quality to them, then I've done my job and you'll know we're having a fine time.

For those who've never been - and really, like the Rolling Stones or Rick Perry trying to complete a sentence, it's something you need to see at least once in your life - please to enjoy this little taste of my next few days.

Welcome to my world.

The Con is on. Again.

I don't usually repost pieces on here. But it's the Comic Con time of year again, and I was going to write a post about going. Again. But then I reread this little gem and realized it said exactly what I wanted to say. Again. We don't have to re-invent the wheel each time out people. Let's just take tonight's post at face value, and enjoy the writing for what it is - an excuse not to think of something new to write. Wait? Did I say that out loud?

Don't say you haven't been warned. For four and a half days this week, my son and I will be living amongst 'em (well, actually we'll be living at the Hilton and walking amongst 'em, but no one's under oath here): the Stormtroopers, Wolverines, Lara Crofts, Jokers, Iron Men, Darth Vaders, Zombies, Batmen, Supermen and other assorted, costumed inhabitants of Comic Con.

As you can see here and here, this isn't the first time I've written about the Con. And it won't be the last.

Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not saying it's the only subject I'll post about for the next few days. But if you happen to notice my writing in the Thursday through Sunday posts have a nerdist, geekesque, maybe-I-ought-to-get-a-life, gee-he-sounds-REALLY-tired quality to them, then I've done my job and you'll know we're having a fine time.

For those who've never been - and really, like the Rolling Stones or Rick Perry trying to complete a sentence, it's something you need to see at least once in your life - please to enjoy this little taste of my next four days.

Welcome to my world.

Summertime, Spartans and bagpipes oh my

I have to admit as open and freewheeling as I like to think I am, the truth is I'm probably much more a creature of habit.

For example, there are two staples of my summer every year. The first is a four-and-a-half day trip to San Diego for Comic Con with my son. The second is our family tradition, now in its twelfth year, of a few days in late summer at the Hotel Del Coronado. I look forward to each of them equally, but for obviously different reasons.

I mean, you almost never see women scantily dressed as Spartans from the movie 300 at the Hotel Del. And try as you might, it's just impossible to find a four-piece shrimp cocktail for forty-five dollars at Comic Con (I've taken the liberty of not including a picture - you're welcome).

Each place is unique in its own way.

This year however, in a fit of wanderlust and gypsy channeling, the wife brought up the idea of going someplace different. When I heard her say that, two thoughts went careening through my head: first, by different I hope she means in addition to, because there's no way I'm giving up my two summer traditions (cue Tradition from Fiddler on the Roof).

And second, how much is this going to cost me? Especially at this late date.

Still, I like the idea of adding a third leg to the summer routine.

In summers past, before Comic Con and the Del, we’ve gone up north and spent a few days in San Francisco. One particular time, we enjoyed a week in the Hapsburg Suite at the Fairmont that we'd won in a charity auction. I like to file it under worse things could happen.

But I'm afraid the wife is thinking of a somewhat larger, more distant trip - more along the lines of Scotland.

Now don't get me wrong. I've been told more than once that I have legs that were meant for a kilt. And once I get past the idea that bagpipes sound like a bag of cats screaming to get out, I actually enjoy them.

The problem with a trip like that, as with so many things in life, is timing. We’re already late in the game as far as booking air fare and hotels at any kind of reasonable price. Plus – and this is a good problem to have – I seem to be getting fairly booked up work wise, so I don’t know how I’d clear the days. With freelance, no worky no money.

Still, because I've been known to occasionally act on a whim, pour gas on the credit cards and ask forgiveness later, I’m going to brush up on my brogue and see if I can acquire a taste for porridge and kippers just in case.

If it does turn out to be Scotland, the only thing I know for sure is I’m not playing golf when we get there.

Quick warning: clip has language not be suitable for the youngsters.

Taking the e-asy way out

I fully intended to have a new post up tonight. And like we've all come to expect, especially me, it was going to be witty yet insightful, terse yet pithy, lengthy but well written. But here's the deal: after the past five days I'm feeling more beat up than Tyler Durden.

Not only is my back killing me from my lovely and unexpected auto accident last Wednesday that I told you about here, but I'm also exhausted from four days sleeping on grass, standing in line, walking in halls and sitting in chairs at Comic Con.

I'm not complaining about the Con. It was teenage fun.

I am complaining about the car accident. That sucked.

Anyway, if you've been online anytime in the last couple years, you've probably noticed the explosion in Your e-cards and someecards. These are cards you make online and have added to a library for all the world to use.

I've custom made a lot of them for various posts on here, and I've also used existing ones.

Anyway, since I'm falling asleep in my soup, I'm putting up a few I like for your enjoyment.

By the way, I'm fully prepared for the lecture I'll get from my friend Rich over at Round Seventeen about taking the easy way out on this post.

I just hope he doesn't wake me when he calls and yells at me.

The Con is on

Don't say you haven't been warned. For the next four and a half days, my son and I will be living amongst 'em (well, actually we'll be living at the Hilton and walking amongst 'em, but no one's under oath here): the Stormtroopers, Wolverines, Lara Crofts, Jokers, Iron Men, Darth Vaders, Zombies, Batmen, Supermen and other assorted, costumed inhabitants of Comic Con.

As you can see here and here, this isn't the first time I've written about the Con. And it won't be the last.

Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not saying it's the only subject I'll post about for the next few days. But if you happen to notice my writing in the Thursday through Sunday posts have a nerdist, geekesque, maybe-I-ought-to-get-a-life, gee-he-sounds-REALLY-tired quality to them, then I've done my job and you'll know we're having a fine time.

For those who've never been - and really, like the Rolling Stones or Rick Perry trying to complete a sentence, it's something you need to see at least once in your life - please to enjoy this little taste of my next four days.

Welcome to my world.

The Con

This isn't the first time I've written about Comic Con. The last time was a post about the difficulties of playing hotel roulette and getting the one I wanted.


Fortunately, after writing a Jeff-letter to the Chairman and CEO of Hilton, that wasn't a problem this year. We were at the Hilton Bayfront, right across the street from Hall H at the San Diego Convention Center. Which was perfect, because we spent most of our days there holed up in Hall H.


For those who haven't been, Hall H is where all the major studios hold their movie panels. They parade the stars and directors out, show exclusive footage from upcoming films, then have a discussion led by a moderator before taking questions from the audience. The hall seats 6500 people. When they like what they hear you know it. Same when they don't.


There's way too much craziness, geek love, celebrity, craziness, fun and craziness at Comic Con to put into one post. So instead, I'll just put up a few pics from the weekend to give you a little taste.


And yes, since you asked, we're pre-registered for next year.

Kevin Smith interviewing fans dressed up in costumes

Francis Ford Coppola with Val Kilmer

Our tickets to the world premiere of Cowboys & Aliens. That's right, you heard me.

Andrew Garfield, the next Spiderman.

Nic Cage wore his bad hair costume for the panel.

Colin Farrell was funny and charming. Bastard.

Team Twilight.

The most surprising and one of the best panels this year, Pee Wee Herman.

Gulliermo Del Toro

Some guy named Spielberg.

Penn & Teller. Yes, Teller spoke.

Justin Timberlake & Amanda Seyfried pretending not to look at me.

My hotel across the street from Hall H

Book 'em

Every year I go with my son to Comic Con in San Diego. That's not the problem. The problem is so do 135,000 other people.

Which makes it extremely difficult to do two things: get a hotel room, and get one close enough to the event so you don't need a sherpa and seven day supply of water to get there.

Last year when Comic Con's discounted rooms became available online, I struck gold. I was on at 9AM sharp, and wound up at the new Hilton Bayfront right across the street from the Convention Center. It was particularly convenient, especially when we had to line up at 3:30 in the morning (which is worth at least 1,000 dad points) for the 10AM LOST panel. I know it's early, but when we got there we were the 400th people in line for a room that holds 6500.

It's that kind of crowd.

Having won the hotel lottery last year, I assumed I'd have similar luck this time. Except this year, Comic Con changed the way you book hotels. Last year I went online, chose my hotel, paid with a credit card and got my confirmation. Ba-da-bing!

Apparently that worked too well. So they decided to rewrite the rules.

This year I had to list 12 hotel choices in order of preference. 12 hotels - it's not Vegas, and it's not London. 12 San Diego hotels. I didn't get a confirmation until the end of the day. And while I was waiting for it I had no idea which hotel I was going to get.

I'm pretty sure you can tell by now I didn't get the one I wanted.

I called the Comic Con travel planners this morning, and expressed my unhappiness at the accommodations they booked for me. I then listened while a very calm employee, who's obviously used to fielding complaint calls from thousands of unhappy geeks dressed like Darth Maul and Wolverine, talked me off the edge. Kind of.

So now I'm on the wait list for three better, closer hotels, and I'll know in a week if I get in one of them.

I'm not sure my son appreciates all the trouble I go through to get us to this event every year.

Maybe I'll explain it to him when we're sleeping in the car.