I am not a comic book person. By that I mean that’s a whole category of popular culture that I’ve never wanted to explore. Superheroes, Sci-Fi, Manga, men with blades instead of fingernails—not for me. I’d much rather read Teen Mom/Porn Star/Neighbor Farrah Abraham’s novel “My Teenage Dream Ended” for the tenth time. She really has so much to teach the world about what it’s like to have your teenage boyfriend “stick it in you,” as well as the many, many ways words can be misspelled. A true inspiration, that girl.
Alas, as there are currently no Farrah Abraham conventions–at least not in places where you don’t catch an incurable STD from touching a bouncer–Chris, Sam, Jack and I traveled up to beautiful downtown Waco for our first ever comic book convention this past Saturday. Now, we didn’t just wake up and say, “Hey, I know! Let’s drive 100 miles in the rain so we can see grown-ass chubby guys dressed like Ninja Turtles nerd fight about who’s the strongest!” (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) No, the reason we made the trek was because a longtime friend of mine and Chris’ from our Los Angeles days is now a big deal comic book impresario. Like, really big deal. Per his comic con show rider, he gets all of the Dr Pepper and Funyons he wants for three entire days, and if that’s not A-list, I don’t know what is. Mark my words, that turd Angelina Jolie doesn’t get unlimited Funyons.
Anyway, Darren and I worked together at E! Entertainment many years ago, then he went on to USA Network, Lionsgate Films (where he gave me a freelance job writing video box copy for soft core porno movies–so fun), then to DC Comics. He soon founded Blue Water Productions and hasn’t looked back. His company creates graphic novels that appeal to the traditional comic fan, but he also does a really cool series called Female Force that I love:
My husband’s friend insisted that we borrow one of his Porches for the weekend, so we drove up to Waco in a $92,000 Cayenne. Yep, $92,000. For a car. My high school Nova that didn’t go in reverse and smelled like split pea soup when it got over 30mph was bought for just $1,000, so the Porsche is roughly 90 of those. Obviously, the boys were instructed to not touch anything or even breathe too hard lest we somehow damage a $10,000 cup holder. Here’s Chris with the 10 and 2:
It was very, very nice and very fun to drive, but quite honestly, I’m much more comfortable in a car that you can throw up in without concern. In fact, I think the Ford Fusion’s tagline should be, “Hit the Road with Worry Free Puking!”
Once we arrived at the show, we immediately saw a few of the attendees, dressed like knights? Dragonslayers? Medieval Times waiters?, having a snit fit outside the bathroom because one of them totally had his “Aketon on the wrong way, Jerome.” Okay, then. Next, Chris helped a dude who got stuck in a restroom stall due to his Pokemon? Anime? Mardi Gras? costume being too big. Off to a good start! Here’s Darren in his booth signing autographs with his nice guns:
Darren’s good friend at the show was none other than Nichelle Nichols, aka The One Woman on “Star Trek.” He graciously introduced us to her and she was very sweet. I admit to never having watched a single episode of “Star Trek,” but Chris was over the moon since he loves that show and remembers what she looked like in miniskirts. (But not for nothing, she was actually very groundbreaking as this interview where she talks about her encounter with Martin Luther King shows.)
I admit that I didn’t understand most of what I saw at the comic con, and there were some truly creepy things like the man who talked to me via the Chester Cheetoh puppet on his hand. There were also girls wearing 3 foot long tails. And another girl who was wearing a giant fox head and couldn’t get into her own car without two people helping. But—-they all had each other and were having a great time letting their freak flags fly, as were we.
The biggest thing that happened at the show wasn’t meeting Boba Fett (well, the man who was allegedly Boba Fett–who knows who was in that suit in the movie?) (kidding–don’t sue me, Fett), but it was when Verne Troyer suddenly had a seizure. He was right across from Darren’s table in the room, and his handlers immediately took him to a private area and called for a doctor in the house. Unfortunately, the only doctors present were Unix coders dressed up like Doctor Who. Well, them and a woman wearing fangs who told me that she “knows that CPR shit, y’all.” Here’s Verne right before it happened:
Fortunately, the hospital took good care of him and he was back in the saddle the next day. (Text from friend while I was at the show: “Flying back from islands and ‘A-list celeb name’ and ‘A-list celeb husband’s name’ are on my flight!” My response: “So what. I’m in Waco at a comic con and just saw Mini Me on a stretcher.”)
The boys weren’t quite sure what to think of their first comic con, but they did love meeting Darren and taking home a few of his graphic novels. Especially the ones he did about the writers of “The Hunger Games” and “Harry Potter.” How cool is that? Celebrating writers like that? Very cool. So of course, right now I’m angling for my own graphic novel that’s all about me. Darren doesn’t seem sold on the idea, but that’s okay.
I’m pretty sure I can use the lessons I’ve learned from Farrah Abraham’s book to change his mind.
Step 1: Get drunk at prom.
In other news, if you’re in Austin, don’t miss the super great show “Jersey Boys” at Bass Concert Hall this week. I’m going on Wednesday–hooray!
Chris and I saw it the last time it was in town, and after I got over my initial disappointment that it wasn’t about Chris Christie, Jon Bon Jovi and Joey Buttafuaco, and we moved away from the woman wearing Go-Go boots who was sobbing, “I miss you, Frankie!” I really loved it. The music is just incredible and it reminds me of what my parents listened to when I was growing up. Hurry and get your tickets, then call me up so we can gossip about our favorite Four Seasons!