The Hard Core Comic Book Convention

Last weekend's Big Apple Comic Book Convention in NYC -- also known as "The National" -- was as hard core an old school comic con as you can possibly get. You know that little comic book store you frequented near your house when you were a kid, the one crammed to the gills with dusty boxes full of back issues and lined with glass cases containing old election buttons and trading cards? It was that times 1000 plus the cast of Heroes. And Adam Hughes.

It's no surprise that, at least to me, the Big Apple Con hearkens back to the small comic shops of my youth. The event's organizer, Michael Carbonaro, was a legendary figure on the Brooklyn comic book scene when I was in my teens...sort of the Donald Trump of comic books, the King of Komix. And that flavor of Old Brooklyn comic collecting was all over the convention -- as well as, I would imagine, many of the same people who frequented those little local shops.

Standing next to me in the guest pass line was the Village Voice's Michael Musto. My first thought upon seeing him, other than the impression that he was far taller in person than I thought he'd be, was wondering if he was there to merely cover the "Heroes" angle or to do one of those ironic pieces on comic cons. Or both.

The venue, at the Pennsylvania Hotel in midtown New York City, was too small to absorb a crowd that was no doubt bolstered by holiday tourists and those eager to gawk at Hayden Panettiere and Kristen Bell. Several times during the convention I had to immediately leave to go outside and "get oxygen" -- something I've done several times at Chiller Theatre in New Jersey but never at the larger cons like San Diego.


Bottlenecks erupted at many key points at the show, most notably at the Bermuda Triangle of Adam Hughes, Tim Sale, and Darwyn Cooke. There were two "Artist's Alleys" -- the Hughes/Sale/Cooke trifecta plus many more on the first floor, and a larger one on the second. Both seemed like cattle calls or assembly lines, multitudes of fans with wheeled carts, baseball caps, and heavy winter coats waiting for a chance to get a sketch or signature from their favorite comic creator.

Much like the comic shops of my formidable years, the Big Apple Con was very much a "place where wimmens dare not tread." It wasn't a hostile environment for females by any means, but it was also an event that had little, outside of several celebrities, to offer them. Most women that I know personally would not jump into one of those bottlenecks in Artist's Alley even if you paid them, even if their most bestest comic creator was sitting there waiting to sign their book.

I mean, picture it -- you have two artist tables within several feet of each other. You're a woman standing between those tables waiting for so-and-so to sketch for you. A constant stream of male convention attendees -- a portion of which are, to be frank, somewhat large -- are pushing past your buffeted body. And you're dressed in your Cosplay outfit of Morrigan from Darkstalkers. It's a a recipe for disaster.

The T&A brigade, in terms of artwork & models, was still there, though not as big a presence as in past shows. Of particular note was one table that featured a zoftig female character who was naked except for a gorilla suit that was cut away so you could see her naughty bits. If you're taking your child to a convention such as this -- as many many people were -- it should be remembered that there will be a selection of nude images such as this presented at your rugrat's eye-level.

To be fair, "gorilla bits" and a few of the more raunchy tables were grouped with what I refer to as "softcore alley," where all the pinup stars and centerfolds sit. It goes without saying that there was a bottleneck around that section as well.


Lastly, I want to touch upon the celebrities in attendance, especially the phenomenon known as "photo-op pre-sales." For a certain fee above and beyond one would pay for a standard photo-op at these shows, you can reserve your photo-op with a certain celebrity -- in this case, Hayden Panettiere and Kristen Bell.

Unlike the celebs in "autograph alley," Panettiere and Bell were whisked away to the 18th floor in a special room designed just for the photo-ops. Looking at one of the advertisements for the photo-ops, I spied an image of Kristen Bell being embraced by a middle-aged fan with his head almost resting on her right boobie and both of his arms locked around her slight frame.

What goes through the minds of Panettiere and Bell when they have to participate in these things? And what goes through the minds of the men who purchase the photo-op? Is it merely a fan thing -- "hey, I got to meet Claire from Heroes!" Or, for the brief few minutes of the photo shoot, are these women their girlfriends?

To sum up, the Big Apple/National Comic Con is very much a place of acquisition -- whether it be Golden Age comics, statues, signatures, sketches, or photos with imaginary girlfriends. It is not a place of discovery -- in terms of new books, talent, ideas, etc. It can be a place of socialization -- but only within the group you know. In all those senses, it is an echo of Ye Olde Comick Shoppe. And it will either have to change and expand its scope in order to outlive its aging clientele -- or get more photo-ops. Perhaps Britney will be available next year.