Return to Wizard World St. Louis

Photos courtesy of Brett Stevens, Tim Church, Ed Button and Wizard Entertainment ... because my camera was too big and clunky to fit in my swag bag. Plus a few I yanked off the web ... not for profit, of course.


As faithful readers might recall, my trip to Wizard World St. Louis last year was one of the most amazing weekends of my life ... except, of course, for the fact that I forgot to bring my luggage and the final day of the convention was ruined by the spontaneous arrival of a foot of snow. But I did get to meet Stan Lee and play "Settlers of Catan" for the first time, so there's that. No complaints there.

This year's convention was set to be even bigger and better than its maiden voyage in 2013. Stan Lee, alas, did not return, but we had the likes of William Shatner, Bruce Campbell, Lou Ferrigno, Jon Bernthal, Eliza Dushku, Adam West, Burt Ward and most of the cast of Firefly. 

I went with the same crew as last year--guys from the local radio station who share my nerdy interests--plus a new addition to both the station and the convention, Tim Church. Tim was kind enough to split some photo op costs with me, and he also provided transportation to the convention. It's kind of cool that we were all journalists--them being from the radio station and myself representing the newspaper in an unholy alliance of media professionals. All we need is a TV anchorman to join us next year and we'll have a full set (incidentally, while we were at the convention we actually ran into an old friend who now works at a TV station in Springfield).

News team assemble!

We got to St. Louis around 8-ish Friday night, which was too late to do anything at the convention. That was okay, though, because this gave us a chance to go to Star Clipper, Ed's favorite comic store from when he lived in St. Louis. We loaded up on great stuff, and among the gems I picked up were a Justice League of America variant with a Robot Chicken cover and a half-priced hardcover of Green Lantern: Secret Origin, which I've wanted for a long time. Yeahhh ... I kinda spent $50 before I even got to the convention, but in my defense, that weekend was going to be my vacation for the year. After years of precariously balancing my budget in college, I felt I had earned the right to live a little and splurge.

We stayed with our friend Tom again. This time, though, instead of playing "Settlers of Catan" we played "Cards against Humanity," which was highly disturbing but also highly entertaining. We shall speak no more of it. I also got to try Jack in the Box tacos for the first time, and THAT was well worthwhile!

The next morning we organized our respective swag and prepared ourselves for the awesomeness that awaited us. I decided to wear my custom-designed "Wokking Dead" T-shirt for several reasons: first, Tim and I were going to get our photo taken with The Walking Dead stars Jon Bernthal and Emily Kinney and thought it would be funny, and secondly, I had brought extras in hopes of selling them to convention-goers as a means of further funding my weekend of convention-related debauchery.

I'm still looking to sell, mind you. Find me on Facebook--
Chris Roll Comic Art--and let me know if you want one.

We then headed for the America Center in downtown St. Louis. First, though, we stopped at QuikTrip, where I made the glorious mistake of having a jalapeno cheddar smoked sausage with chili and cheese for breakfast. Woof.

Entering the convention center again after so long ... well, it didn't feel quite as hokey as "coming home," but it felt good. It took a few moments to get my tickets in order, but because I had the Bruce Campbell VIP package (yeah, budday!) I got to head straight into the main floor ahead of the gathered throng with standard, humdrum tickets ... by about 30 seconds, because I hadn't arrived that early.

The first thing I did was go to Chris Samnee's table. I had met Samnee at last year's convention, and he was a very pleasant, friendly guy. He currently draws Daredevil for Marvel and does a lot of cover art for various comics. One such comic was the variant edition of the new Angel and Faith #1, which I had picked up at Star Clipper the night before. I eagerly had him sign it and told him I planned to get it signed by Eliza "Faith" Dushku. Samnee's face lit up and he said, "Dude! That's awesome!" He then requested that I bring the comic back to his table afterward so he could see it. At his command, I took off like a shot, in a manner reminiscent of the little bunny in The Muppet Christmas Carol after a repentant Scrooge tells him to go get the biggest turkey he can find. When I got to Dushku's table, she wasn't there, but a substantial line had already formed. She ended up being about 25 minutes late, but that was okay because while I was in line I ended up running into an old friend, Michael Brasier, who is doing very well for himself as a composer and actor for the Drifter web series (which you should all check out). It was weird asking a college buddy for an autograph, but well worth it. Anyway, I finally met Dushku and gibbered out some star-struck blather about how much I loved her work and was glad to see her character from Buffy still being handled well in comics. She commented on how well the cover artist captured her dimples and whatnot, and I showed her where he had signed it and said I was under orders to bring it back for his inspection. Smiling, she signed it, gave me a fist-bump and sent me on my way. Mr. Samnee was indeed thrilled to see his work signed by the star herself, and was kind enough to snap a photo of it, which he then posted to Twitter at my request:

Words cannot express the joy I felt at that moment.

Let me say, by the way, that I am generally not one to swoon at celebrities. That said, Eliza Dushku is a goddess among mortals. She's very courteous and friendly to fans and could be found mingling with the crowd and exploring the convention between panels and photo sessions. Plus ... let's face it, she's beautiful. But more on her later.

I also made sure to swing by painter Greg Horn's table. Not familiar with Greg Horn? Ye gods. Remedy that, yo! He's a super-nice guy who had arguably the most beautiful work at the show, and, best of all, he was having an early-bird sale that morning: four prints for $40. Needless to say, I bought four. I got a GORGEOUS Doctor Who print that I had initially planned to give a friend as a gift (alas, once my mom saw it, she claimed it as her own, despite knowing nothing about Doctor Who. That's how amazing this print is). I also got a Sinestro Corps Scarecrow, a Joker and Harley Quinn and, my personal favorite, a print of every major superhero movie character in a theater together munching on popcorn. I had a chance to buy one from Greg four years ago at C2E2 and didn't; fortunately he had one this time around.

Seriously, how awesome is this?

Next up was my photo op with Bruce Campbell. I had waited more than five years for that moment because, y'see, Bruce Campbell is the reason I am who I am today. I didn't discover the Evil Dead trilogy until I started college, but it's safe to say Army of Darkness made in impact. When I took my second college writing class, I was assigned a:  visual analysis essay, which would require me to select an image of my choice and then explain it--what is it? What is it saying? What does it mean to me? I initially went with one of my all-time favorite comic book covers:

But I ran out of steam a few paragraphs in, despite the sheer delightfulness of the image. Then I remembered this: 

And so it was that the poster for Army of Darkness became my inspiration for "Of Chins and Chainsaws," which ended up getting me not just an A but also first place in the essay portion of Missouri State University-West Plains' campus-wide creative writing contest. And winning the contest got me a job as a writing tutor. And becoming a writing tutor was what led to me pursuing an interest in journalism. And from there I decided to transfer to the University of Missouri School of Journalism. And at Mizzou I became a published writer and artist (placing second in a design contest with a page of cartoons that ran in The Columbia Missourian). And now I'm a staff writer at a daily newspaper, having graduated Magna Cum Laude with a bachelor's degree in magazine journalism, with the makings of an art career on the side. All of this I owe to Army of Darkness. So yeah, I was stoked to meet Bruce Campbell. Which is why I decided to make my photo op as awkward as possible:

He wasn't quite sure how to react to that.

Next up were Bernthal and Kinney. Y'know, I wasn't really sure what to expect. I love The Walking Dead, but I loathed Shane from the start ... and Beth really never did a whole lot on the show (except attempt suicide, sing and disappear). I am SO GLAD Tim and I got that photo op, though. For starters, Jon Bernthal was one of the nicest guys at the convention. He greeted us warmly, shook our hands and even pointed right at my goofy shirt for the photo (Ed would talk to him at his booth later and get him to record a special message for his wife, who was unable to come with us). And Tim was thrilled just to have the opportunity to put his arm around Emily Kinney ... I do not blame him in the least.

#DeadMenWokking

Immediately afterward, I changed lanes (lines) and got my photo taken with Eliza Dushku. I shall repeat myself, I was merely a fan of her work prior to the convention, with no intention whatsoever of developing a schoolboy crush, but darn it, she's absolutely delightful. And, alas, taken.

Yes, that is the dreaded "hover-hand" you see. Yes, I am ashamed.
And yes, it was still TOTALLY worth it.

The best part, though, was that after the photo was taken, and I was being ushered (herded) out of the photo room, she happened to squint at my T-shirt and grin. "The Working Dead," she said. "I like it!"
"Actually," said I, "it's the 'Wokking' Dead. See the wok?"
Dushku nodded approvingly and laughed, as did the camerawoman. As an afterthought, I added, "I actually drew this."
And then, to my eternal flabbergastification (??) and joy, Eliza-freaking-Dushku gave me a thumbs-up and said, "That's badass."
Verily can I die a happy man.

After that, I wandered around the convention center looking for cool swag to buy. I visited comics legend Neal Adams, who went from charging $5 per signature last year to $20. I still had him sign one of my books and bought one of his, because he's Neal Adams, but I was hesitant to part with that much money.

But how could I say no to THAT?

I also met Greg Capullo, who is pretty much at the top of the food chain as far as current comic book artists are concerned. He's the penciller on Batman, the best-selling comic out right now, and frankly, I expected him to believe his own hype. I was happily proven wrong. Although he had some serious lines at his table, Capullo took time to talk to all his fans, and seems to genuinely love his job--which is truly a dream job. He signed several of his books that I had, including What If Daredevil Killed the Kingpin?, his first Marvel work. I also got it signed by writer Danny Fingeroth, who was kind enough to sign a copy of Spectacular Spider-Man #86, which he is actually a character in as well (with art by Fred Hembeck, he of the swirly knees).

David Mack was a particular highlight. It took me forever to find the guy's table, but he definitely goes above and beyond for his fans. It's the 20th anniversary of his breakthrough comic, Kabuki, and he was giving out free prints. He also drew a limited edition Wolverine and the X-Men variant, 1/3000, which I was fortunate enough to get a copy of with my VIP swag. But we got to talking about his Daredevil work, and I said I only recently discovered his run. He asked me where I bought my comics and I sang the praise of the Book Nook, the local store I frequent in West Plains. He then pulled out an extra Kabuki print, which he then signed with an extra note, "Thank You Book Nook." I delivered it to Jay at the Book Nook yesterday.

The Book Nook is an awesome store and Jay here is an awesome guy. Although the selection is small (West Plains
is a small town), there's always something good to be found, and they're more than willing to special-order stuff.

I will say, though, that not everybody was awesome. Arthur Suydam, he of Marvel Zombies fame, was not very nice at all. I hate to trash-talk a dude, especially a dude whose work I like, but Suydam isn't getting any more of my business after that weekend. First off, he raised the prices of his prints to $20 a piece. That's totally fine--it's his stuff, and he can charge what he wants, plus he really is a talented artist. But he will only sign books you bring if you buy something from his table, and everything on the table is $20 a pop. However, and this is where it gets upsetting, he has a donation jar on his table for The Hero Initiative, a very worthy charity that helps comic book creators in need, particularly those with medical bills or other problems they can't handle on their own. The jar has a sign saying Arthur Suydam will gladly (gladly) sign your books--plural--if you make a donation, and it says to donate whatever you can--no minimum required. I stuck a fiver in the jar and pulled out a stack of maybe four books. Suydam looks at me with a smirk and says, "That'll get you one." I was surprised and a little upset--after all, I already gave him my money when I bought the books in the first place--but I still picked the one book from my stack that I thought was the coolest, and that I thought he might enjoy seeing again: Savage Tales #2, a Marvel magazine-sized publication from the '80s that had a distinct Heavy Metal vibe about it. Suydam signed it, yes, but only after spending a solid minute talking about how much he hated that cover and never wanted to see it again. He also led Tim to believe he was selling three posters for $20 when in fact they were three for $20 each. The bottom line is, Arthur Suydam's art might be cool, but he's not Neal Adams. Adams can get away with being kind of a toolbox because he's Neal Adams. Arthur Suydam won't get another dollar from me.

Mike Grell, of Green Arrow and Warlord fame, was also at the convention, and I was very excited to meet him. He wrote the very first Green Arrow story I ever read--a great back-up tale featured in Action Comics #444 (which is also my favorite Superman comic, but is unfortunately torn to shreds). In stark contrast to Neal Adams (and Arthur Suydam, for that matter), Grell only charged a dollar per autograph, which I was happy to pay, and I even got a free comic out of it. He also had EXTREMELY limited edition sketchbooks for sale (only 25 made), and I bought one for $75. Why so expensive? Because Grell then drew a custom head sketch on the blank cover. Naturally, I chose Green Arrow, because GA is his bread-and-butter. And he did not disappoint ... indeed, he crafted a masterpiece.

Lawdy!

And, for the next 30 minutes or so, I hung out at Mike Grell's table, watched him draw and talked comics, and let me tell ya, the man is not just a consummate pro but a really fascinating guy. The first question I had was why, out of all the characters in DC's stable, he was drawn to Green Arrow? He replied that he has been into archery since he was a child, which was cool, and he was also drawn to the Robin Hood element. Furthermore, he delved into what makes Green Arrow an appealing character as opposed to his fellow Hard Traveling compatriot, Green Lantern. Green Lantern, Grell said, is all about upholding the law--he's a space cop. Green Arrow, on the other hand, is more concerned with justice, whether the law is on his side or not. Green Arrow, despite being pretty obnoxiously liberal, nonetheless cares deeply about righting wrongs and sticking up for the little guy, and I have to agree with Grell: that makes him pretty darned cool. I also asked Grell about his run on Iron Man, since at least in terms of powers and backstory, he's pretty far removed from Green Arrow. Grell laughed and replied that he took on the Iron Man job because he needed the money, but also because he wanted to bring a new take to the story of Tony Stark. He felt Iron Man had become too much like Superman--literally the Invincible Iron Man--and he wanted to ground him somewhat, to bring back some humanity and address the sense of isolation that comes from walling oneself up behind a suit of armor. He also wrote the story in which Iron Man revealed his secret identity to the world (which I did not know), and said that was the storyline that got him fired from Iron Man. In the story (which I have not read and have not been able to find as of yet), Tony Stark is at an event and sees a little boy's dog get loose and run into traffic. Tony immediately suits up, jets forth and saves the dog. No cataclysmic event like the Wrecking Crew threatening to destroy New York if he doesn't unmask. No soul-searching storyline that ends with Tony wanting to be honest with people. Just a boy and his dog. And the fans were livid. So was Iron Man's supporting cast, who asked why in the world he would spoil his identity over a dog. "I didn't do it for the dog," Tony insisted adamantly. "I did it for the kid." And that, Grell said, is what a hero does. I agree, and I really want to read this story now.

I also had the opportunity to meet and get an autograph from William Shatner, whose spacefaring, swashbuckling ways as Captain Kirk entertained me greatly in my childhood and beyond. I'm a dyed-in-the-wool Trekkie (or Trekker, if you want to nitpick), and one of my most treasured books as a kid was a hardcover of his memoirs I got for Christmas one year, Star Trek Memories. As you might have guessed, I had him sign that sucker! Whilst en route to his booth, however, I ran into one of my favorite teachers from MSU-West Plains and her daughter (the TV employee I mentioned before). We talked briefly and then I had to run ... at which point the convention volunteer at Shatner's booth told me that A) my printed-out autograph ticket was insufficient and I would have to hike all the way across the building, from end-to-end, and exchange it for a little red card, and B) I would need to hurry because Shatner was about to leave (according to the schedule I had, he was just supposed to be starting his autograph session, so either he started early or they changed the schedule). I sprinted through the crowd of similarly physiqued nerds (re: portly gents) to get to the registration booth, got my little red card and sprinted back, just barely making it in time. Shatner shook my hand, thanked me for coming and signed my book, "To Chris, Basdofhoa Shgaefawtrgh." For real, I can make neither head nor tail of his signature, but I was and still am so happy to get it.

I then slipped away to grab an early dinner at The Dubliner with Ed and Tom, where I had some epic macaroni and cheese and a pitcher-and-a-half of ice water to wash it down. The food was great; the service was not. But it was still a worthwhile diversion and a great meal ... that sat like cast-iron in my stomach for the rest of the night.

Next up was getting Bruce Campbell's autograph. I figured with my VIP ticket, I'd be able to zip in and zip out relatively quickly; this was not the case, as EVERYBODY in the line was a VIP. But I didn't mind how long I had to wait, so long as I could deliver the manila envelope I'd been toting all day in my swag bag. In said envelope was a copy of "Of Chins and Chainsaws," a letter explaining its significance, a print of a sketch I had drawn of the Army of Darkness poster and a print of "The Wokking Dead" just for grins. When at last my turn came, I gave him a condensed version of my tale and handed him the envelope. He accepted it and set it aside, but I have no way of knowing if he actually ended up reading it or not; indeed, I don't expect him to. But I had to try, and I'm glad I gave it to him even if it never gets read. I'm doing well for myself now and I owe him one. Anyway, I had him sign the limited edition lithograph that came with my VIP package, and he signed it as Burn Notice character Sam Axe. Pretty sweet, yeah?

Oh yeah.

For the past year or so I've had a blank cover variant of Green Lantern #13. I bought it in hopes of getting a custom sketch someday, but in the weeks leading up to the convention there was a bit of a process of elimination as I contacted various comics professionals. Mike S. Miller cancelled his appearance at the convention. Chris Samnee wasn't doing sketches this year. Ethan Van Sciver and Salvador Larroca cost too much. And Neal Adams cost WAY too much. But as I wandered the convention center that Saturday evening, I happened to pass by Van Sciver's table, and he said he was charging $100 for a basic character bust sketch as opposed to the $200 he had told me on Facebook. Double-checking my wallet, I commissioned a sketch of my favorite Green Lantern villain--the renegade GL himself, Sinestro. Van Sciver said he wouldn't be able to finish it that night, but I could come by the next day and pick it up. I told him that worked for me because we were shooting for heading back to West Plains around 3 so we could catch the season premiere of Game of Thrones. He said that was fine. Elated, I paid him and wandered off in search of more swag.

That was essentially the end of Saturday's convention events. On our way out, I got my photo taken with Jesse Pinkman's Monte Carlo from Breaking Bad, which was awesome:

Don't do drugs, yo.

I also got a few photos with some cosplayers:

I'd Peek-at'chu!

Wonderful!

Hellooooo, Starfire!

I don't know what that is, but it's cool.

Do you know what happens to Chris when he's
struck by lightning? HE CRIES AND PASSES OUT!

"No one cared who I was until I put on the mask."
"I cared."

A bunch of freaks ... like me!

STL Ghostbusters! 

My friend Amber came and picked me up from Tom's house a little before 9 p.m. and we went and watched Captain America: The Winter Soldier while the guys stayed in and played "Settlers of Catan" and ate Imo's. The movie was flipping awesome, by the way, and I'll save myself the effort of writing a full review by telling you right now: go see it. The action is fantastic, the themes of political paranoia are highly relevant in today's society and it's the first Marvel film to do Nick Fury justice (he finally gets to smoke a stogie and open up a can of whup-@$$). Indeed, on the subject of whup-@$$, I would say that some people open up a can. Others open up a case. Captain America, on the other hand, purchases his wholesale.

The next day, I had more time to just enjoy the convention and hang out with the guys. I also visited Tommy Castillo's table because I had a Batman issue he had done. To be quite honest, he was one of the artists I was just getting an autograph from because he was there. It wasn't an overly meaningful issue or anything ... but let me tell you, it is now. Castillo's wife took the first glance at the issue and said, "Hey, Tommy, isn't this the one where you drew Kermit the Frog in a trash can?" Now, THAT got my attention. Castillo flipped through it. "There's Oscar. There's Gonzo. Nope, no Kermit." At which point he whipped out a black Sharpie and proceeded to draw KERMIT THE FROG AS BATMAN.


Let's let that sink in a bit.


He drew Kermit the Frog as Batman. For free. On the cover of a Batman comic. I had come seeking a mere signature and left with one of the coolest items in my swag bag. Rock on, Tommy Castillo. You made a fan this weekend.

THIS IS AWESOME!!!!

I also picked up a great custom Doctor Octopus sketch from St. Louis artist Ellis Ray III, who used to work with Ed back in the day. I heartily implore all y'all to check his work out, too, because he rocks, as an artist and as a person.

"Butterfingers!"

Tim and I also got our photo taken with the crew of the Serenity: Nathan Fillion, Alan Tudyk, Adam Baldwin and Summer Glau. Now, I hadn't initially planned on giving Fillion anything; he was charging $100 per photo op or signature--$25 more than the far more legendary William Shatner. But the Firefly photo op was $165 for all four, and with Tim splitting the cost, I figured it was well worth it. I had wanted to get a photo with Adam Baldwin anyway (he's been one of my favorite TV actors for a while now, thanks to appearances on Angel, Firefly and Chuck), and Tudyk and the others were an added bonus. There were FOUR lines for the Firefly photo op, which is understandable, and Tim and I wound up in the third line. It took a while for things to start moving, but once they did, they moved fast. Whilst in line, I got to meet J'onn J'onzz and Batroc ze Leaper (who claimed he was actually S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Phil Coulson, but I knew better):

He's obviously Wolverine.

And then the moment arrived: we were face-to-face with Captain Mal and company. Alan Tudyk was closest, and he eagerly stepped forward to greet us, shaking both our hands. Baldwin, too, seemed excited to be there and gave us a warm welcome, dragging Tim close in a one-armed bear hug for the photo (Baldwin is HUGE, by the way--a legit 6'4" and built like a house--so it was certainly a relief to see he's actually a very nice guy). Fillion and Glau, however, didn't even acknowledge us. Didn't smile at us. Didn't offer to shake our hands. Didn't say "hi." Just sat there and smiled for the camera when the time came (although Fillion's smile was more of a smirk). It would have been really depressing had Tudyk and Baldwin not been 100 flavors of awesomesauce. Tim says he got Glau to wave at him as the ushers shooed us out, but I have no visual proof.

As if I needed another reason to like Baldwin and Tudyk ... they're
awesome actors, and class acts to boot!

Having wrapped up all my photo ops, I headed back to Van Sciver's table. He hadn't started yet, and was doing another commission. It was almost 2. "Oh ..." I said, crestfallen. "My group's leaving at 3." I figured if all else failed I could give him some postage and have him mail it to me.
"I'll just crank it out," he said. He motioned to an empty chair behind his table. "Here, pull up a chair. You can hang out here."
I was shocked, surprised and overjoyed ... and yes, more than a little bit awkward. But we ended up talking about comics, drawing techniques, movie history and more, and it proved to be a great hour. He got my Sinestro sketch done at about 3:45, and it was superb. Van Sciver is a cool guy and a fantastic artist, and he absolutely nailed Sinestro's look.

BEWARE HIS POWER!

After that, it was time to pack up and head out. We stopped in the atrium for a Sad Selfie to commemorate having to leave:

"THE BAD MAN PUNTED BAXTERRRRR!!!"

Once Tim's vehicle was full of swag, laundry and whatnot, it was time for our annual trip to White Castle on the way out of town. As usual, I got chicken sliders (because the burgers are awful) and everybody had some delish cheese fries.

I got home around 10 p.m., sore from head to toe and coming down with a cold. But at least I didn't forget anything this time, and despite the pain in both my body and my bank account, I can safely say it was one of the best weekends of my life. Plus ... TANK PICTURE!

Off to See the Wizard (World)

My friend Ed and I had been planning the trip for months. Wizard World St. Louis was going to be the biggest event of the year for both of us, thanks in no small part to the presence of Stan “The Man” Lee, who is essentially the granddaddy of all comic books. I’ve wanted to meet him since I read my first Marvel comic at the age of 6, when I first saw that ominous header that stated, “Stan Lee presents.” I didn’t know who Stan Lee was then, of course, but it was obvious that he was somebody very important, although I couldn’t have imagined how important then.

Tickets were purchased and arrangements made; we (Ed, his friend and coworker Brett and I) would meet in West Plains and carpool to St. Louis, and we would stay with Ed’s friend Tom. The timing was perfect for me, as it was the first weekend of spring break, but the only downside was that I would have to drive five hours home from Columbia on Friday to pack up some comic books to get signed and then meet Ed and Brett later that day for the trip to St. Louis. That’s about nine hours on the road—yikes.

I had been sick all week, so the drive home was especially miserable. My mind was clouded and my eyes were burning, and I was scared to death that mine would be the cold that killed 90-year-old Stan Lee. Thankfully, I made it home without incident, and I immediately set to work packing my old orange duffel bag with clothes and packing my mom’s leather messenger bag (my “swag bag”) with comics. I had about twenty that I hoped to get signed. Lee’s autograph cost $55, so I thought it best to pick just one comic to have him sign (I decided on The Amazing Spider-Man #700, which he handled the letters page for).  Legendary artist Neal Adams was going to be there, also, so I packed a few things to have him sign, too. Others included artists Mike S. Miller, Chris Samnee, Arthur Suydam, Tyler Kirkham and Michael Golden, as well as writers Renee Witterstaeter and Cullen Bunn, and I had stuff for all of them to sign, too.

It took a couple of hours, but I somehow managed to get everything organized and packed in time. I picked up my swag bag and the tin of cookies Mom had prepared, stuffed my camera into my pocket and headed out to the car. I still felt like garbage, but I was excited. Stan Lee awaited.

When I arrived at Ed’s house, he was standing on his porch, smoking a cigarette and grinning from ear to ear. He, too, could scarcely contain his excitement. We compared the contents of our respective swag bags and prepared to begin our journey. That’s when I realized I had forgotten my duffel bag.

First I gaped, horrified, at my empty front seat. Then I cringed at the sight
of my empty back seat. And THEN I started screaming bad words at my
empty trunk . . . at which point I checked the front seat again. Nope, still
not there . . . dangit.

We had a solid half-hour until Brett got off work, so we went to Dollar General so I could purchase new provisions. All in all, it was probably a good thing I forgot my stuff, because I needed a new toothbrush and deodorant anyway, and one can never have too many pairs of underwear, but I was still pretty upset about it at the time. The only thing they didn’t have at DG was a decent comic book-related T-shirt, so we cruised up to Wal-Mart and I picked up a fairly generic Avengers tee. THEN we went to pick up Brett.

The ride up to St. Louis was fairly uneventful. We mostly talked about comic book storylines and whatnot, and I proved to be pretty useful as an encyclopedia of sorts because I remember so many of the little details about comic books (I can’t remember anything I’ve studied in college, but by golly, I can recall every twist and turn of the Hobgoblin saga, culminating in the disappointing revelation that Hobby was, in fact, the effeminate milquetoast Roderick Kingsley, but I digress). I was also regaled with tales of the White Castle of legend, which I had only heard about but had never experienced for myself. However, I was dismayed to learn that onions were the secret ingredient that made White Castle’s burgers so addictively scrumptious, so they conceded that I probably wouldn’t enjoy them; we went to Jack in the Box instead, where I had the Ultimate Cheeseburger and curly fries, a grease-soaked artery-clogger that nonetheless tasted delightful. The lady at the counter even upped the size of my fries to medium for free because it was my first time there. Delightful!

I went to bed early that night, due to my miserable state. However, despite my sleeping like a log, I woke up feeling even worse, with a pulsating headache that spelled further misery to come. Tom made some coffee, though, and between that and an Advil, I soon felt better. We showered, put on our respective nerd gear and headed out to the convention center by 8 a.m. (the show started at 10).

Surprisingly, we were among the first to arrive that Saturday morning. There were only a handful of cosplayers around (a female Robin, a bespectacled Zelda, a “Master Chef,” a Doctor Doom and an overweight Magneto), but that soon changed. The line soon snaked back and forth across the entire area, and the excitement was through the roof.

BAH! Doom waits in line for no convention!

No need to stand on ceremony here, Mr. Wayne . . .

Ed and Brett were able to get free media passes to the event (they work for a radio station in West Plains), so they were able to get in early. Alas, I currently have no official affiliation with any publication or media outlet, so I was in the general admission line with Tom. Ed’s friend Meghann met us in line and we chatted there for a while. While we were there, we saw some better cosplayers, such as Spider-Man and the Black Cat. We also saw professional cosplayer Ivy Doomkitty in a Starfleet uniform ... to yank a quote from another sci-fi franchise, THAT'S NO MOON(S)!!

We also got to see the winner of Friday’s cosplay contest, who won a VIP weekend pass. This dude made an Iron Man costume replete with light-up eyes, chest piece and palms, and even hydraulic sound effects. My camera’s flash wasn’t working, so I got Ed to take a picture of me with Iron Man (Ed ended up taking quite a few pictures for me, bless him).

Thanks, Ed!

As soon as we got inside, I made a beeline for the back, knowing that’s where the line for Stan Lee would be. He wasn’t scheduled to sign autographs until 11, but I figured the line would be insane if I waited. On my way toward the back, I noted where some of the other creators were situated for future reference.

Whilst in line for Stan Lee (who started signing early, pretty much as soon as I got there), I happened to notice a little kid—no more than six years old—dressed as an unbelievably cute likeness of Ash from Evil Dead 2, bloody shirt, cardboard chainsaw hand and all. He was with his dad, and I desperately wanted to ask permission to take his picture, but I was afraid to pull out my camera while I was in line. For all of the major celebrities at the convention, and particularly for Stan, there was a very strict “no cameras” rule (because official photo ops cost extra, naturally), and I sure as peach pie didn’t want to risk getting kicked out of line after spending $55 to get Stan’s autograph in the first place. “No soup for you!” I did, however, get a picture with an adult Ash as I left the convention center that afternoon.

Gimme some sugar, baby.

It was fun watching people get their autographs, although I was too giddy to take it all in. It was handled in a very assembly line-like manner, with somebody to check the ticket, somebody to look over the item being signed, somebody to hand the item to Stan and somebody to take it from him and hand it back to the owner. For the most part, it was pretty straightforward and efficient. However, there was a funny moment when Stan accidentally signed a plastic bag instead of the comic inside it (this error was quickly rectified, although I guess, technically, the owner ended up with TWO autographs instead of one, so it worked out better that way).

Finally the moment was nigh. The kid directly in front of me politely asked Stan if he could ask him a question. “Ask away,” Stan said warmly. The kid asked who Stan’s favorite superhero was, and Stan responded with “Spider-Man.” Of course, I thought. Spider-Man was my favorite as a kid, too. The X-Men may have eased me through adolescence, and Green Lantern is the hero I can most identify with in adulthood, but it was Spider-Man who taught me about power and responsibility. It was Spider-Man who taught me about love and loss, and how it’s important to do the right thing even if the world is against you. And Spider-Man’s rogues gallery is the absolute best in comics not just because of the wacky powers and gaudy costumes, but because of the emotional stakes involved in their feuds with Spider-Man. The Green Goblin blames Spider-Man for the death of his son, so how does he repay him? He kills Spider-Man’s child in utero. Kraven the Hunter believes Spider-Man embodies a malevolent spirit that drove his mother to suicide. As Venom, Eddie Brock blames Spider-Man for ruining his career as a journalist and the alien symbiote blames Peter Parker for abandoning it. And Doctor Octopus, the magnificent bastard that he is, actually saves Spider-Man from a fatal illness because he wants to preserve their cat-and-mouse relationship, which is what he lives for (ironically, Octopus dies in that issue, although it doesn’t last).

Moving in to get my copy of The Amazing Spider-Man #700 signed, I nervously thanked Stan for Spider-Man. I don’t remember exactly what I said to him, but I think I said something about how I was very glad to have Spider-Man in my childhood, and I was especially grateful for Doctor Octopus (a villain after my own heart). Stan’s eyes lit up at this, and he gleefully thrust his fists up into the air. “Doc Ock!” he exclaimed with a grin. “He’s one of my favorites, too!”

At this point, I had received my signed comic and was being shuffled away from the table, but I hastily added, “Thank you for inspiring me to become a writer.” I don’t know if he heard me or not (he was already signing another autograph), but ultimately it didn’t matter. I had already gotten Stan Lee—the greatest living legend in comics—to smile. It was more than I had expected and it was enough to send me on my way with a smile of my own. Besides, I know I wasn’t the first kid to get hooked on Marvel and be inspired to take up writing as well.

Stan Lee is now 90 years old. I don’t know how many conventions he has left in him (hopefully many years’ worth to come), but I’m impressed he’s gone to as many as he has. One thing is for certain, though: he enjoys being Stan Lee—the legend, the Generalissimo, “The Man.” He’s 90 years old and he’s still going to these conventions, even though he surely must be set for cash. Why? Because he’s the flamboyant elder statesman of comics. Because he’s a huge draw for these events. And, most importantly, because the fans love him and he loves the fans. God bless Stan Lee; may he be able to grace conventions with his charm and sincerity for years to come.

Plus, my collection has a new crown jewel!

Next up were Tommy Castillo and Rick Burchett. I had a couple of issues of Detective Comics for Castillo to sign (the run with The Charlatan, one of my favorites) and the Batman: Mask of the Phantasm adaptation and an issue of Justice League America for Burchett. I then moved on to Chris Samnee, who had a pretty good line in front of his table already. I got in line and started digging through my swag bag to get my Samnee books, only to have Renee Witterstaeter scold me and the others in line for standing in front of her name plate. We moved around to the other side of the table, at which point I noticed something crucial. Y’see, many artists charge upwards of $20 for a simple sketch, so I didn’t plan on getting any at this convention. However, I saw the guy in front of me buy one of Samnee’s Daredevil hardcovers. It was $20, and Samnee cracked it open and drew a sweet head sketch for no extra charge. I raised my eyebrows in a very Jack Black-like fashion and dug out a twenty. By the way, Chris Samnee is super nice. We chatted for a few minutes, and sure enough, I got a head sketch in the hardcover I bought. I’ve enjoyed Samnee’s work on Captain America and Bucky, and he posts some pretty neat stuff online, too. After meeting him in person, I can definitely say I’m a fan for life now.

Neal Adams was charging $10 a pop for autographs, so I only got one (my Giant-Size X-Men #3, written by Joss Whedon). He also had some sweeeeet Uncanny Avengers variants for sale, but I didn’t want to pay $20 for them. Brett had him sign—I kid you not—the first appearance of Havok in X-Men, which Adams told him was his second Marvel assignment. How awesome is that?

Cullen Bunn was pretty awesome, too. We talked about his run on Venom and the disturbing nature of Deadpool Killustrated (a comic I greatly enjoy, even though, oddly enough, I want Deadpool to lose).

I met up with Ed, Brett, Tom and Meghann after an hour or two and we decided to go get lunch. We ended up at Flannery’s Irish Pub, and let me tell ya, it was fantastic. I got a barbecue bacon onion burger (hold the onion) and Ed got what he said was the best fish and chips of his life. Ed also bought us an appetizer platter that came with toasted ravioli, mozzarella sticks, chicken tenders and fried pickles (OH, how glorious the fried pickles were!). It was an excellent lunch, and on the way back to the convention center, I ran into my friend Joe, who I haven’t seen in almost a year.

At center is the aforementioned appetizer platter . . . delectable! 

When we got back to the convention, Ed, Brett and Meghann went to get their photo op with The Walking Dead’s Laurie Holden. As I walked around the convention center, flitting from booth to booth, I could see actors James Marsters, Henry Winkler and Morena Baccarin, but I knew I couldn’t afford their autographs so I kept going. Shoot, Juliet Landau, James Hong, Billy Dee Williams and Lou Ferrigno were around there somewhere, but they, too, were charging more than I could afford to spend. Stan Lee’s autograph was my big expenditure for the event, and I have no regrets.

I wasted some time in line trying to win some free stuff (and all I got was a lousy wristband, haha), and then I ran around looking for bargains (no, “Thrift Shop” was not playing in my head, although I suppose it probably should have been). In retrospect, I wish I had spent more time doing that, but how was I supposed to know (spoiler alert) I wouldn’t be back Sunday? There were quite a few things I had my eye on, but I figured I’d have time to go back and shop around later. How deluded I was . . .

In any event, I did end up buying some pretty cool stuff. I bought a Marvel Zombies vs. The Army of Darkness print from Arthur Suydam (it got pretty beat up on the ride home, unfortunately, but it’s still gorgeous), as well as a convention-exclusive, limited edition Walking Dead #1 reprint that I had him sign (people are already selling it online for $50-$70; make me an offer). I also bought a Jim Lee-signed underground comic from the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund’s booth (I’ve wanted Lee’s autograph for years, and I missed my shot at getting it at C2E2 three years ago). I found a booth with “4 for 99 cents” comics and stocked up there, and then I went to a booth with some dollar items and a 25 cent box. I picked up most of the Avengers vs. X-Men series, crappy though it was, just for the sake of having it (besides, if nothing else, the artwork is gorgeous, particularly Adam Kubert’s toward the end). I also got the one issue of Winter Soldier I was missing (I had a second printing, but I wanted the full set of first editions). All in all, I did pretty darned well, and I didn’t spend anywhere near as much as I was afraid I would.

I did, however, get attacked by a walker . . .

frozen by Sub-Zero . . .

and skewered by a Predator.

When I met up with the others again, I was surprised to find Ed talking to Scott Rogers, owner of Game Stash in West Plains, which is a Mecca of sorts for video game enthusiasts in southern Missouri and northern Arkansas. I didn’t know Scott was going to be at the convention, but I was glad to see him. He even snapped a picture of me with a Rogue cosplayer, which was cool.

As two wise men once said, "Schwing!"

At this point, the convention was starting to wind down for the day. We had initially planned to go to the after party, but we were so tired at that point, we just headed back to Tom’s place and played Settlers of Catan until late into the night (Settlers of Catan gave way to lively political debate, which gave way to Mortal Kombat, and we never did finish that second game of Settlers). After a while, I went to bed, but I ended up sleepwalking when I heard them come in from a late-night Jack in the Box run. I frantically emerged from the bedroom, convinced they were getting ready to head back to the convention, and I didn’t want to keep them waiting. It took me a moment to realize it was still night time and I was sleepwalking, at which point I sheepishly turned and shuffled back to bed.

From fun and games . . .

To the start of a serious discussion . . .

To full-on political discourse! Egad!

The next morning, though, as we had feared, the weather took a turn for the worse. I had really hoped to go back to the convention (I had a weekend pass, after all), especially since I had spent the previous day running around and getting autographs. I had planned to meet up with my friend Amber on Sunday and spend the day taking it slow, enjoying the sights and filling my swag bag with sweet deals. But the snow was coming down fast, and it was a four-hour drive back to West Plains in fair weather. So, alas, we decided to head over to Star Clipper, a local comic shop, and then head back to West Plains before the weather got any worse.

Too late . . .

Unfortunately, the weather did get worse while we were there, so we didn’t even get a chance to grab lunch. We did, however, pass by Blueberry Hill, so I snapped some pictures of some of the stars on the sidewalk. And, whilst at Star Clipper, I picked up the “State Birds” variant of Uncanny X-Men #1, so I’d call it a win overall.

The drive home was nuts. The wind was so strong, the snow was coming down in sideways sheets, and halfway home, Brett heard from his parents that there was a foot of snow in Columbia. Holy snap. Also, I ate at White Castle for the first time, but I ordered the chicken sliders instead of the burgers. Ed convinced me to try a piece of one of his burgers, and frankly, I didn't care for it (the onions were its undoing). The chicken, however, was great, as were the cheese-slathered crinkle fries. Yummmmm . . .

The farther south we got, the less precipitation there was. The stretch between St. Louis and Rolla took the worst of it, but there were just scattered flurries in Willow Springs. Anyway, the entire front grill of our vehicle was encased in ice by the time we got back to West Plains, as was the antenna. Pretty funny. And there was no snow whatsoever in Couch.

The worst of it

Now entering Silent Hill . . .

The home stretch, and there is nary a flake nor a flurry. 

When I got back to the house, I was exhausted but very, very happy. And, to my shame, my duffel bag was still on my bed.

Right where I left it . . .

Overall, it was the best weekend I’ve had in a loooooong time. Ed, Brett and Tom are three awesome guys, and it was great hanging out with them and enjoying the convention together. Everybody seems receptive to the idea of doing it again next year, and I hope it pans out. Hopefully the weather will be a bit more cooperative, too.

Excelsior!

Special thanks to Ed Button for the photos that are actually clear.