However, like all true geeks, I made my pilgrimage to Hall H, the gigantic ballroom that holds 6,500 people. This is where we go to pay homage to excessive Hollywood budgets.  However, there are evidently a few million other geeks who got in line before I did. I never made it in. The line this year is protected by 6 massive tents. Then the line went down the street, across the street and around behind the building. I actually never even saw the end of the line. I just sat on the curb and cried. Oh well, I dried myself off and then tried Ballroom 20 upstairs.

The state of California was in line for Hall H.

This line was completely different. It stretched to infinity across the roof of the convention center. Actually, it wound around the inside of the convention hall, out onto the roof, snaked through a giant tent, went up a stair case and disappeared somewhere out of site. I’m not certain there was a real end to the line. The thought of lemmings came to mind when I saw the line disappear over the edge of the roof.

By 11am on Friday morning, the line was so long for Ballroom 20 that the people at the end had no chance of getting in…until Saturday. Really. I’m not kidding.

Ballroom 20 line.

There were plenty of other events in the smaller rooms that I wanted to see, but after two disastrous failures to get into anything, I decided to spend some time on the convention floor. This is like playing bumper cars with your shoulders. At least it is near the movie studio booths, Lucas, Hasbro, Gentle Giant and anywhere that was offering exclusives and free stuff.

The crowds were not so much of a problem in the areas selling comic books. You know, those old paper things that Comic-Con is named after? Those collections of drawings and words that spawned all the great movies showcased at the other end? The alter ego of Comic-Con is no secret, but it does seem to be forgotten, when you see the biggest comics vendors placed right next to the bathrooms. The placement does sort of make sense since that’s where we tend to read comics, but it’s not exactly the glamorous floor location the namesake might hope for.

Comics are next to the bathrooms now.

The first session I got into was Greg Evans talking about his comic strip Luann. His origin was renting out a robot at parties for ten years before he sold his strip. He shared a touching story of how he and his wife had to adopt out their first child when they were too young and they re-connected 28 years later. That true-life event inspired a series of strips in Luann. This type of info is like watching a great DVD extra, except you also get to ask questions live.

Greg’s current alter ego is that he wrote a musical that premieres in the next few months. And it’s not even his first musical. He wrote one a few years ago that was based on his Luann strip. More and more I find that artists are often musical as well. (I’m not one of them.)

Greg Evans, creator of the comic strip Luann.

On my way to the next session, I ran into two Klingons in some really cool outfits. When I asked about their secret identities, one admitted to being an accountant and the other a Master Toyota mechanic.  I felt like I was living in Cliche’ Land when the first costumed people I talked to were unemployed and an accountant.