Comic Convention Sunday
The wife, brother-in-law, and I went to the San Diego ComiCon today. We had originally planned to take Stephen along with us, happily dangling his feet from his Snugli, but my mom intervened at the last minute and offered to babysit. Considering the adventure we had, I earnestly thank all the gods that she did so.
It's not as if it was a bad trip, it was just filled with petty annoyances, most of them related in one way or another to the San Diego trolley system.
You see, last year I had the bright idea for us to park at one of the local malls and take the San Diego trolley to the con. One of the most painful things about driving to the con is finding a place to park near the convention center. In the early days of the convention center, this wasn't as big an issue. As the ComiCon has grown, so has the need for off-site parking.
Suddenly, a plethora of small parking lots sprang into existence in the blocks surrounding the center, with vastly inflated rates. Finding a space in one of these lots first thing in the morning could be problematic; finding one in the afternoon was nearly impossible. Not to mention the fact that leaving your car unsupervised in one of these lots is asking for trouble.
Thus, my bright idea to save time, money, and stress by taking the trolley.
Last year, aside from a minor hiccup, the plan was executed flawlessly. We jumped aboard the trolley, rolled to the con, and then returned to our car with little more than a single (brief) delay on the way back.
This year was different. Not only has the con grown ever larger (it will encompass most of downtown within the next ten years, at this rate), but there was a Padres baseball game at the nearby ball park. Sweaty comic book fans (us among them) and equally-sweaty baseball fans were packed like sardines into dozens of red trolley cars.
As if the cramped (and hot) conditions weren't bad enough, there were problems with the cars ahead of us which led to as many as five (or more; I stopped counting after the third) inter-station delays which lasted anywhere from sixty seconds to ten or fifteen minutes at a stretch. Every so often, our trolley driver would breathily communicate to us over the PA system that we were "experiencing a brief delay" (as if it wasn't painfully obvious). Even more aggravating was the fact that the A/C would shut off every time our driver made an announcement.
In the end, we did manage to make it back to our car without becoming party to any riots, and we had a speedy trip back to my mom's house so that we could pick up Stephen.
So...the Comic Convention. What did we do? First, we paid to get in ($15 apiece, which is the Sunday extortion for adults). Then we hit the two places that we normally hit: Penny Arcade and Dumbrella. T-shirts (right) and stickers (above left) were our goals, and we succeeded in picking a few up.
With our swag safely stowed in the complimentary plastic baggie that came with our $15 badges (the bag is probably the most useful thing you get for free these days at the ComiCon; gone are the times of freebies galore that were actually worth keeping), we took a quick stroll around the massive dealer's room. My one mandatory stop was the Wizards of the Coast pavillion (as "pavillion" is the only word I can really think of to describe it) to see if anyone I knew was there (no).
In my opinion, there wasn't really that much to see (unless you like to people watch, in which case you'll have a field day). My wife is the reason that I go; she likes to look at quirky little monster toys, keep up on her web comics, and bask in the glory of her inner geek. Her brother was along for the ride, and from all indications he wasn't feeling too well (after a late night out gaming).
I guess it would be anticlimactic of me to say, "Yep, that's it," even though it about sums up the day. The horrible eternity of the trolley is the memory that continues to haunt me, packed in amongst my fellow man. It conjured several very unpleasant thoughts, all of which I will spare you from. Suffice it to say, it's over and we're home and I have to get up and go in to work tomorrow.
It's not as if it was a bad trip, it was just filled with petty annoyances, most of them related in one way or another to the San Diego trolley system.
You see, last year I had the bright idea for us to park at one of the local malls and take the San Diego trolley to the con. One of the most painful things about driving to the con is finding a place to park near the convention center. In the early days of the convention center, this wasn't as big an issue. As the ComiCon has grown, so has the need for off-site parking.
Suddenly, a plethora of small parking lots sprang into existence in the blocks surrounding the center, with vastly inflated rates. Finding a space in one of these lots first thing in the morning could be problematic; finding one in the afternoon was nearly impossible. Not to mention the fact that leaving your car unsupervised in one of these lots is asking for trouble.
Thus, my bright idea to save time, money, and stress by taking the trolley.
Last year, aside from a minor hiccup, the plan was executed flawlessly. We jumped aboard the trolley, rolled to the con, and then returned to our car with little more than a single (brief) delay on the way back.
This year was different. Not only has the con grown ever larger (it will encompass most of downtown within the next ten years, at this rate), but there was a Padres baseball game at the nearby ball park. Sweaty comic book fans (us among them) and equally-sweaty baseball fans were packed like sardines into dozens of red trolley cars.
As if the cramped (and hot) conditions weren't bad enough, there were problems with the cars ahead of us which led to as many as five (or more; I stopped counting after the third) inter-station delays which lasted anywhere from sixty seconds to ten or fifteen minutes at a stretch. Every so often, our trolley driver would breathily communicate to us over the PA system that we were "experiencing a brief delay" (as if it wasn't painfully obvious). Even more aggravating was the fact that the A/C would shut off every time our driver made an announcement.
In the end, we did manage to make it back to our car without becoming party to any riots, and we had a speedy trip back to my mom's house so that we could pick up Stephen.
So...the Comic Convention. What did we do? First, we paid to get in ($15 apiece, which is the Sunday extortion for adults). Then we hit the two places that we normally hit: Penny Arcade and Dumbrella. T-shirts (right) and stickers (above left) were our goals, and we succeeded in picking a few up.With our swag safely stowed in the complimentary plastic baggie that came with our $15 badges (the bag is probably the most useful thing you get for free these days at the ComiCon; gone are the times of freebies galore that were actually worth keeping), we took a quick stroll around the massive dealer's room. My one mandatory stop was the Wizards of the Coast pavillion (as "pavillion" is the only word I can really think of to describe it) to see if anyone I knew was there (no).
In my opinion, there wasn't really that much to see (unless you like to people watch, in which case you'll have a field day). My wife is the reason that I go; she likes to look at quirky little monster toys, keep up on her web comics, and bask in the glory of her inner geek. Her brother was along for the ride, and from all indications he wasn't feeling too well (after a late night out gaming).
I guess it would be anticlimactic of me to say, "Yep, that's it," even though it about sums up the day. The horrible eternity of the trolley is the memory that continues to haunt me, packed in amongst my fellow man. It conjured several very unpleasant thoughts, all of which I will spare you from. Suffice it to say, it's over and we're home and I have to get up and go in to work tomorrow.
posted by Gary at 8:34 PM
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