Yes, it is that time of year again for all us comic book junkies to tap our veins and inject our minds with the sights, smells and tactile sensations that only those pulpy printed pages can provide!
It's COMIC-CON time! The world's biggest freakin' pop culture mindhigh! Over 100,000 freaking freaks packed into a hall so enormous that it has it's own black hole (I hear whispers and rumors of the dozens that mysteriously vanish every year within those hallowed walls)! And I'm talking 100,000 freaks every day! No lie. It's really truly unreal. Last year on Saturday the line to get in was over a mile long and people were in that line in 90 degree heat for hours. And some were turned away due to overcrowding. This show is big people. BIG.
And my being there only makes it all THE BIGGER!!! HA HA HA! (insert booming drum sound effects here again).
Seriously, though...I am great. And I will be there. So, if you know what's good for you you'll show up at my booth in the "Independent Publishers Pavillion (the "I.P. Pavilion" for those of us in the know). I will be debuting my new book, THE LIST, there (plug) and also have new original art, new prints and also be talking about my new gig over at Marvel Comics. It'll be great stuff people so don't miss out.
I really am great.
Other than that... We won our softball game last night and it felt great to be alive! I had a couple nice hits and a catch in the outfield that made me feel 20 again. It was cool.
My buddy, Big Tim, was put off by a comment I made about Brewer's ace pitcher, Ben Sheets. He got kind of mad. Here's the dilly...a few days ago we were at a party and the Brewers were on the tube. We picked it up in the 10th inning...it was tied and into extra innings. Neither of us had a clue what had transpired before the 10th. We started talking basebal, the team, the playoffs, etc. giving our opinions on the Brewers chances this season. At some point the subject of Ben Sheets (ace pitcher) came up and I "got on him" for all the injuries--he's had many and varied in his short career. Tim defended Sheets a bit. I said "I guarantee he doesn't make it through the season without going down again!" To which Big Tim gave me heat for being negative. Maybe he was right about being negative, but I defended my prognostication by loudly exclaiming, "Hey, I'm only using history as my guide...he gets hurt every year! Why would this year be any different?" To which Big Tim gave me a "look" of disdain and quite possibly a little disappointment.
Mere minutes (maybe even less) went by and the Brewers won...then we got the game recap where they informed us that starting pitcher Ben Sheets went out with a finger injury in the third inning!!!! I went nuts..."See! SEE!! He's done!...He's out for the year!" I really laid it on thick. Big Tim, a little stunned by my magnificence, I think, sheepishly retorted, "It's probably just a blister...he had one of those the other day." I kind of smirked, said some crap and got another beer.
So, a few days later the injury report comes in and Sheets sprained his middle finger on his throwing hand. Out for 15 days. HA! I called Big Tim right away...to gloat. I admit it. I rubbed it in a little. Just because I "called it" you must understand. I found the timing very ironic, that's all. I wasn't gloating about him being hurt. Just my greatness at predicting this calamity...the crazy timing. It was uncanny you know.
So we get to our game last night and I see the Big Man walking up and right away say, "Hey, Tim...you hear about Sheets...he's out for the season!" I was kidding. I hadn't heard any updates but I was just trying to get a rise out of him. He laid into me. Said I was "Gleeful" about it. He was ticked. Said I found some perverse joy at the Brewers bad luck. Now it was his turn to "lay it on thick." And he did. I was stunned into a stammering, babbling, ineffectual defense. I think I maybe even wet my pants a little. A few nervous squirts. It was not my intention to anger my large friend. No. Nor was it my intention to sound gleeful about a Brewer player being injured. (He's not out for the year BTW, only 6-8 weeks!) My only intention was to get his goat a little...tease a little again about my prognostication a few days earlier. He went pretty "Wrath Of Khan" on me.
I probably had it coming a little. I do tend to be the "Devil's Advocate" when it comes to Wisconsin sports teams. But it's a defense mechanism, man! Our teams generally fail. And for a looonnnng time. It's tough being a Wisconsin sports fan. You learn to "not believe" because they've given us so many reasons not to. It wears you down and then cynacism and skepticism creep their ugly ways into your sports soul, man. I don't wanna be that way. I don't. I just can't help it. I can't.
What the Big Man should've done was embrace me...just hold me. Couldn't he see my pain masked in sarcasm and spit? Can't he see I have a disease...that I'm sick? That I need help? I am a Wisconsin sports fan, dammit! My cynacism is a symptom of that fandom...of that disease!!!! It is as it is.
I am a Wisconsin sports fan. There I said it.
I need help.