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.
