Well dadburn! I thought my quick hotel ramble was lost to the ether, but Steven Gettis performed an autopsy on WordPress and fished it out. So here’s what I rambled…
You know, there are no flights back to Portland from Charlotte until late in the day, so I’ve been cooling my heels in the Westin Hotel lobby, mostly sitting by Rick Remender, Kris Justice and Andie Tong. If you have to hang out, there’s much less comfortable places to do so. I’m trying to gather my thoughts about Heroes Con, but at the moment it just seems like my mouth ran non-stop and that’s my impression. No one’s going to write anything better than Tom Spurgeon’s summary of the weekend, so you might want to go there now. A lot of us shared good memories of Mike Wieringo over dinner and at the Hero Initiative signing for the What If: Mike Tribute book. Mark Waid made me forget how to breath by telling a really inappropriate anecdote at a key moment. Matt Wieringo raised some real money to go to the scholarship in his brother’s name, especially at the art auction held over at FUEL Pizza that Friday night. By the way, there will be more of that online soon. Darwyn Cooke told me of some of his secret plans for upcoming work that I would preorder NOW if I could. Heidi Mac introduced me to the international man of mystery Ben McCool. Kelly Sue let me hold The Baby Fraction, young Henry (he’s already helping plot Iron Man), who is a solid little crawler and easily one of the most beautiful boys since the Baby Parker appeared three years ago. Which reminds me of the very sweet Ladd Family who returned to once again cartoonists little care packages full of snacks as their girls showed all the mini comics they made lately.
Thomas Fleming told me more of the fallout from that Who Sucks.com site taking my “myostatin deficiency” joke about him literally- he was contacted by the BBC for an interview. No one will ever believe he actually lifts weights. I got to catch up with old friends like Richard Case, Chris Kemple and Scott Hampton, but I didn’t get to eat at Lupie’s this time. Josh “Batman Strikes!” Elder told some hilarious stories of his misadventures in Manhattan (well except for how he always gets punched or stabbed with miniature flags, they’re hilarious) and told me of his outreach programs to get kids reading comics. Dusty Harbin put together a really impressive Indy Island this year, and as usual I tried to steer people over to take advantage of Roger Langridge’s crazy cheap original art prices before he realizes what he’s doing.
Thought I was going to catch up with Ross Ritchie, then he disappeared into the night. Matt Brady and his lovely wife gave me some Newsarama candy, that I really should not have eaten All At Once. I sketched a fair amount of Gorilla Men in people’s Agents of Atlas hardcovers, and a few Venuses. I still haven’t seen what Leonard Kirk draws in them when he’s handed one. I annoyed plenty of other people by not sitting at my table enough (hey, I keep running into East Coast friends I don’t get to see anymore, it’s hard to make it back to the seat). I didn’t even have enough time to go over into the next convention hall for the DUB convention and shop for some flossin’ spinning rims, so cut me a break. I found out Barry Kitson was briefly a member of one of my favorite bands, XTC.
Shelton Drum had the Dead Dog Party over at Heroes Aren’t Hard To Find and I got to hear some good trash talk from Dave Johnson (no one does it better). We all ate barbecue and Matt Fraction and Ivan Brandon helped me trash our fellow creators, oh how I love it. On a nicer note, no one does a better imitation of Ed Brubaker than Matt. And no one argues the merits of The Transporter movies more than Robert Kirkman. After everyone talked up Shoot ‘Em Up, I feel I should finally rent it. Oh there’s so much more… but I better get a taxi.
BACK to present day. Rick and I made it to the airport on time, and instead of suffering in Southern heat for two days while no US AIRWAYS jet would take him home, he went straight back to Portland, while I had to go to San Francisco first. My connecting flight was delayed, but then I was able to catch another by running across two terminals. I’m sorry to bore you with airline foibles, I just want to cut to the heart of my travel: by the time I reached Portland I SMELLED HEINOUS. Are there any airports that have pay showers available? Because I would be all over that.
More things happened, of course, but durn if I can remember it. I’m sure Patrick Sun will help jog my memory with the terrabytes of photo files he took and will no doubt upload soon. In the meantime you can look at pictures of Superstud LoveMo-chine Chris Sims over at his report. My main impression is surprise from not being humidified to death in Charlotte during the Summer- every day there was a key rainstorm that cooled things down just in time. Shelton Drum probably arranged that too. Thanks Shelton!