 Kazu is the unassuming mastermind behind Flight. No one has the right to be this terrific, but he carries it well.  I can't begin to tell you how much time we spent hovering around the Top Shelf booth. They took most of my money this year, like every year, and their star princess was Craig Thompson. Dewy-eyed and sincere, he diligently signed everything we threw at him time and time again. Lord knows why, cause he shows no preference towards girls at ALL.  Art monster Matt Rhodes stopped by for hellos and sketches. He drew me a fabulous pirate lady and I drew him a pile of crap.  Aysha Shehim, her cutie friend Ru, and Matt, chillin' in Ralph's.  Jenn Manley Lee, defender of the innocent. Just because. She drew me a trailer!  After a day and a half of waiting, the boxes of Flight books finally showed up. We opened them up with much screaming (there's a video around somewhere). Here Clio gets a nosefull. Damn, but they smell good.  I met Neil at MoCCA, and it was an immense pleasure to see him again in San Diego. He's incredibly sweet, and so talented... I want to keep him forever. Here he is happy, because we finally have books, but he smiles all the damn time anyway.  With the arrival of the books came so much signing. ...SO much signing. I don't have a single group picture of all the flight people, but I'd like to say right now that they are fucking awesome as people go. Phil's a sassbot, Catia's a sweetheart, Rusty's cool as a cucumber, Kean is a sex machine. I felt so lucky and honored to be counted among them, and to be allowed to sit behind the table like some kinda hotshot. I wish there had been more time to chat instead of just signsignsign... maybe at APE. I'm also really glad that people liked the book as much as they did, even though it'll wind up meaning more work for Kazu. I don't know how the guy stayed upright all four days with maybe twelve hours of sleep combined, but he did. I salute you, mon capitan.  Occasional trips to Tranquility Base helped soothe Dylan's and my weary souls. They had inflatable chairs and ant-infested wheatgrass. And also Patrick Farley, pretty man extraordinaire.  In the immortal words of J. Ro (I think), "no man has any right to be that pretty."  Huge promotional robots rock. Try as we may we could not think of a way to steal one.  Craig stopped by to get a copy. Doug TenNapel set up at the Flight table after awhile, presumably to leech from the crowds the book was drawing. Oh well, he invented Klaymen, I guess it's okay.  Fred and Derek showed up at ass o'clock Thursday night, and stayed in one of our rooms for the rest of the weekend. Here they are with some Asian chick, I didn't catch her name.  Comic-Con is all about the loose women.  This man is long-suffering.  Oh these girls, why won't they leave him alone?  Things suddenly take a dramatic turn for the HOT.  Oh no, it's Neil Gaiman. And he's TALKING.  Raina and Dave Roman had a table in small press. Raina was sweet enough to risk my sullying her good name by lending me her ID to slip into a concert. I don't look like her very much but a hat can fix anything.  The concert was for Sufjan Stevens, with Joanna Newsom opening. Jen, Clio and I went with a bunch of the Flight guys on Friday night. As Jen and I were celebrating our successful ID-fakery, we suddenly learned that Neil, who was responsible for our even being there, had left his own ID at home. THE IRONY, folks. He went back and got it, and everything was okay.  She was incredibly good and so very pretty. She's talking to Smokey McAsshole, a six-foot-tall be-afro'd hippie who sat down smack in front of tiny Catia and proceeded to burn incense, roll his giant head around mouthing the lyrics and shouting "YES!" from time to time. I don't think I've ever wished another person as much harm as I've wished on Smokey McAsshole.  Sufjan Stevens, a darn good show if you're awake enough (Jen and I were not). He had the prettiest keyboard player I've ever seen, but she was too beautiful to show up in photos.  Saturday night was the big Bucca di Beppo dinner. 80-90 cartoonists just took OVER the damn place. Too many pictures for a commentary. I'm sure you know who they are, anyway.                            It was such a nice time. Sky McCloud wowed us all with her talented spoonery, Dylan did a neat trick with a spoon and a wine glass, and John Allison drew the Best Monkey in the World (keep your eyes peeled, this monkey's goin' places). I can't believe Kazu got this all organized, but he did. We toasted him every five seconds, I think.  Instead of the Traditional Saturday Night Beach Party, we hung out with the guys from Dumbrella. J. Ro let me draw near his spiderbite (we're married like six times over by now). One of the things that made this con extra special for me was getting to finally hang out and make friends with those guys good and proper. I had a really good time just shootin' breezes, drawin' pictures, touchin' fists to other fists. They're really special guys. I just want them to know that. And I'll say it in the context of a gross picture of a spider bite.  On the plane to San Diego, Dylan, Clio, Jen and I were seated two rows behind the guys from Penny Arcade. We hit them with insulting paper airplanes and were rewarded with time alone with a tablet PC! That led me to believe that they were really nice guys, but then I saw the shirt they sent to Rich. Fucking assholes.  James Kochalka sums things up nicely with a common Western gesture he seemed unfamiliar with. I think this has been my favorite con yet. Flight did really well, I met new people to love, and spent more time with people I loved already. Hundred points, San Diego. Hundred points. More photos here: Clio - Erika- Stephen - Bill - Kazu & Kean - Neil Back to my site, for whatever reason. |