What would you do if a fully armored Mandalorian warrior yelled menacingly at your child?
Yeah, I did the same thing:
"C'mon, let's go," I growled in disgust without adding: "and if you don't want kids picking up your expensive toys then don't put them on display and within reach!"
The kids were ready to leave Lexington Comic Con anyway. We'd been there for a few hours and we were dead broke and weather beaten by the sensory overload of thousands of excited geeks and literally tons of sci-fi, fantasy, horror, and comic memorabilia, paraphernalia, and novelty items.
We were impervious to the glare of the Mandalorian wanna-be burning into our backs as we exited the Lexington Center into a light drizzle and the oddly welcoming hum and buzz of the streetscape. The boys made out like bandits; oddly enough in cheap comic books. Lily had a pretty good day too. I was surprised how much there was to interest an eight year old girl.
I mean, if you don't want kids touching your geeky props then put the sign higher than waist level. The kids see the helmet before they see the sign. Good lord. Yeah, yeah, that’s why you have the sign, but if no one can see it…
The day started early. The Shamrock Shuffle started at 8:00am. We were up at 6:00. The rain beat harder on the car the closer we got to Lexington. If Beanie hadn't wanted to do it so bad maybe we'd have bailed on the run. Maybe not. We all braved the early start and the rain. It was a lot of fun. Lily had a great time so it was worth it.
Afterward Mandy rode home with her mom and I took Boone and Lily and Ty to Comic Con. Boone had been looking forward to it since the first time we went two years ago. Oddly enough I had been looking forward to it too. Had I had opportunity at eleven years old to go to a comic con somewhere I’d have acted as stupid as my son did over it. Bless his heart!
It made me super glad that all three kids had a good time. Ty bought a stack of comic books, Lily just plain enjoyed herself, and Boone was running around getting autographs until he hit the wall of the pay-to-be-a-fan crowd. He was a little crestfallen, but he took it in stride. Again, let me rant just a tad:
I’m a fan. I’ve watched your movies, bought your action figures, and pretended to be you while playing with my friends. Don’t @#$%ing charge me for your autograph. Oh, sure, I’ll pay for a nice glossy photo for you to sign, but my event program? C’mon, I paid over a hundred dollars for our little crew to get into the party. If the convention can’t pony up a little for the talent I’m not sure why my son has to pay $40 for Deep Roy to throw down his John Hancock. We’re not made of money. Do you want my good graces for free or me to pay for the autograph instead of your next mediocre film?
Well, to be fair I guess the famous amoses get more from a signature than they do from a single Blu-Ray sale. But still…
|I so wish there had been a live person in that costume who went "Boo!" |
just has he reached out to touch it
|Yes, that is Chewbacca's head in the dewback's mouth|
|These were not the Mandalorians who were yelling at us|
I sound like a bitter curmudgeon, but that’s just me venting after a day of being completely overwhelmed by being out in the city in a crowd for too long. I had a good time. It was great fun and there was lots of cool stuff to see. And even if the Mandalorian Merc guy annoyed me by yelling at my son I still thought his costume was cool.
When I got home I pondered who I would cosplay as next year. Maybe Deckard.
|My work here is through...|