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Super Born - The Book

Why They Call It “WonderCon”

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For those of you who have not been to WonderCon or any of the other “Cons”, there is a reason they call it WonderCon. It is an amazing production from its start to its finish.

Luckily for me, the Journalist Narrator of the Super Born book and the B.I.B. both accompanied me to WonderCon in San Francisco April 1st-3rd and are here to help me explain the phenomenon. Normally its ladies first, but the B.I.B. is either saving some hostages or attending her daughter’s PTA meeting at the moment and should be back shortly, so let me turn it over to the Journalist to begin our WonderCon review.

March 31st 2011 1:22 PM

Mornings aren’t my thing. In fact, neither are afternoons or evenings. So standing in a long line of cars and trucks in the Catacombs of San Francisco’s Moscone Center, waiting to unload the crap for the booth display wasn’t my idea of joy. Watching hundreds of worker bees buzzing around hundreds of booths throwing plastic wrap and cardboard in all directions reminded me how much I love work…I could watch it all day…not. When it was my turn to unload our massive display..OK…substantial display…OK they drove me and our entire booth display on a tiny golf cart like thingy, but we did drive passed some massive displays pouring off of entire trucks that had been driven onto the Moscone’s Main Floor and I did look at them as we passed. Soaking it all in, I had one thought…OK…I had no thoughts but I did think of this later, How is all this crap is going to be ready for the convention tomorrow?

After an  hour of setting up the Blanket sized Super Born Poster, a bunch of books to sell, genuine B.I.B. M&M’s complete with her picture on them, Super Born Tattoos, a video screen for the Super Born Video, and a comfy chair for my fat ass, I was done and the booth was ready for the thousands…OK…Hundreds…OK a few customers.

April 1st 2011 (bright and early… OK sorta bright…at least moving)

After a night on Fisherman’s Wharf, literally face down on the wharf, my aching head and my cup of coffee slipped on into the Moscone center passed a long line around the corner of ass holes waiting to get in and buy shit. The line was guarded by Star War’s storm troopers dressed in white and armed with the latest plastic laser rifle.  (Don’t worry, just like in the movies they never can hit anyone with them)  When I reached the convention floor I was amazed that the display’s weren’t ready and were barely more complete than the day before.  We opened in a half hour.  Was I the only efficient one ready for business? I could have killed the guy who told me the show opened at 9 AM when I found out it wasn’t open until 11 AM.  That made the line outside of A holes even more hard to believe.

By 11 AM the miracle had happened.  The displays suddenly had come together.  The piles of bubble wrap had been cleverly hidden, and a monster vacuum had been run over the aisles. I was ready for the wave of humanity.

First came the other vendor’s sneaking around to see what everybody else was doing and trying to promote their booths…losers.  Then came the people attending. It wasn’t a sunami as I imagined but a slowly building tide that became a throng by the afternoon.  By then I had seen the Super Born video a gazillion times, and my smile and feet were about broken.  (Keep smiling..don’t sit down! I had been instructed)

We were in a booth sandwiched by someone selling comics and clever stickers and a group from LA trying to promote a book that did not exist to a publisher who did not exist by having people sign up on a list that did not exist.  Across the way was a never ending throng buying light sabres and posters and unique clothes that weren’t  from comics or famous characters, just unique, kinda  like me!  Through the aisle came every assortment of people, mostly adults and young adults.  But now and again SuperMan, Batman, Star War’s storm troopers, or Wonder Woman would walk by. Sometimes the outfits would be Comic book heroes but other times the costumes would be whatever Halloween costume was handy. Each day I would see the same people walk by with different costume on than the day before.

But I did sell some books.  The pisser was I would sell a book and the customer would want the B.I.B. to sign it,  not “moi”.  And the pictures, EVERYBODY wanted their picture taken with her and not me.  Fine way to treat a Investigative Reporter like me. At least I had Super Born M&M’s to comfort me.

By afternoon the aisle was totally clogged with a slow moving line of people.  The B.I.B. was out in the midst of it surrounded by an adoring throng.  I saw Batman walk by for the 15th time; looked liked he’d gained some weight since his last lap.  Then there was a very short woman trapped in the mob.  I could see her on her cell phone as she walked by saying, “I don’t know where I’m at! I can’t see anything!  Can you come find me!”

My most unusual book sale came Saturday.  A young person, I say that because to this day I do not know if it was a man or woman or both, wanted to buy a book and let ME sign it.  When I asked who to sign it to, she/he said,” Could you sign it to my pet rat?  His name’s Mickey Mouse, and tomorrow is his birthday!”  The good news is that we are a best seller with the pet rat market.

The B.I.B. proved very popular, imagine that?  There were numerous press people taking her picture… anyway I think they were press people. My favorite scam of the convention was the  local “Professor” who walked among the booths asking people to help him write an article on “What is your definition of a Geek?” The strange thing was that he only seemed to asked women like the B.I.B. or the big chested blonde in the booth next to us their opinion. He didn’t ask me or the geeky kid with braces our definition of a Geek. I “think” he had something else on his mind. You think?

After three days of watching the escalators to and from the convention floor constantly loaded with people, the Con came to an end.  Then the scramble began again.  The bubble wrap and cardboard suddenly reappeared and we all frantically packed up our booths and got our trucks and cars in line again to load up.  Trucks, vans, and tow motors flew down aisles mark “Do not put anything in this aisle”.  This time I could not even get my “golf cart thingy” to help me load up.  The union guys who had insisted only they could unload your booth suddenly didn’t care how you got your booth loaded in your car, but they were too busy to help.  I watched longingly as empty tow motors and golf cart thingys drove around apparently carrying nothing for no one.

Luckily, I work out daily…weekly…monthly,  so the fifty pound boxes and awkward cases were no problem for me to carry a thousand feet to the loading dock…OK …the B.I.B. carried everything while she was talking to her daughter on her cell phone and filing her nails, but I did watch her do it and it was exhausting.

With that flurry the Con was over and the last piece of bubble wrap glided gently to the ground only to be popped by a passing empty golf cart thingy.

Outside the streets of San Francisco were suddenly taken over by Batman, Cat Woman, and a small battalion of  Star Wars Troopers, in restaurants, crossing streets, commanding attention everywhere flowing out of the Moscone to conquer the city. It wasn’t like watching a movie, it was like being in one.

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