Comic-Con 2012 wrapup

Comic-Con has gotten so big that it's almost impossible to give a sense of scale for the crowds.

The past four days I’ve been in San Diego at Comic-Con 2012. It’s been a good experience, and I was privileged to spend much of the weekend with my old friend Rob Roy.

After many hours of line waiting the last four days, I stand by the assertions I made in my last blog about the need for clearing rooms and panel reservations. But in general, I think the folks with Comic-Con and the San Diego Convention Center have done the best job they could with the massive crowds.

Comic-Con has taken over much of downtown San Diego, so much that even nearby supermarkets have set up junk food refueling stations (below) outside their shops for hungry geeks.

Arriving at the convention about mid-day on Thursday, I took a quick tour of the floor, where the always-impressive costumes encouraged me to make the following observation:

If I were my 14-year-old self, I'd be excited by the amount of side boob displayed at Comic-Con. It doesn't have the same impact now. #SDCC
— John C. Baker (@jcb10) July 12, 2012

One of my first panels was an appreciation of the late Ray Bradbury. A number of prominent authors, including the esteemed Margaret Atwood outlined the impact Bradbury’s writing had on their work. As an example, Atwood noted that Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451” influenced her acclaimed novel “The Handmaid’s Tale” in regards to “who (is allowed) to read.”

Authors Margaret Atwood and Joe Hill talk about Ray Bradbury.

Following that, I stayed for a panel about 1982 -- called “the greatest geek year ever.” And with flicks such as Blade Runner, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Tron and E.T. released in 1982, it’s hard to argue. After a couple more panels, Rob and I got into Phil Plait’s roundtable about science in science fiction. Good discussion. I think the best point was about explosions in space: No, you really shouldn’t hear noise when they go off. But you don’t (usually) hear music during important moments in real life either, and music is prevalent in movies. Explosions, like music, are non-natural sound elements that accentuate drama. I think I can buy that.

Matthias Harbeck, of Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin, discusses German stereotypes in comics since WWII.

On Friday, I eschewed the long lines for Firefly and Hobbit panels and spent most of my time at the Comics Art Conference, where serious academics present papers on serious comics topics. I sat through a series of lectures on how comics view nations (“Captain America: Court Jester or Patriotic Icon?” the portrayal of Germans in comics from World War II to the present day, etc.). I made an interesting point, I think, with one presenter whose paper was on Alpha Flight (the Canadian super team). Instead of most super teams, which are an assemblege of archetypes (tech hero, science experiment gone wrong, Norse god, etc.), I argued that Alpha Flight was composed instead of Canadian stereotypes: the angry Quebecois (Northstar), the noble First Nations (Shaman), the mysterious northern beast (Sasquatch) and the white Inuit (Snowbird). The presenter, from Carleton University in Ottawa, came up after the session and personally thanked me for my points.

Rob and I went to a strange panel for an Adult Swim-like Marvel cartoon called the “All Winners Squad,” hosted by Morgan Spurlock (of Super-size Me fame) for some reason:

At weird Marvel panel hosted by @MorganSpurlock. Actors playing Squirrel Girl & Hypno-Hustler for upcoming book. #SDCC twitter.com/jcb10/status/2…
— John C. Baker (@jcb10) July 14, 2012

That was weird.

Rob and I took advantage of the Comic-Con atmosphere later that night to watch The Amazing Spider-Man at a downtown San Diego theater. Rob was unhappy with the changes from the source material, although further conversation indicated to me that he was probably still upset with the reboot from the Toby Maguire series. I quite liked it. I thought the chemistry between Andrew Garfield’s Peter Parker and Emma Stone’s Gwen Stacy was well above that between Maguire and Kirsten Dunst. I liked Garfield’s performance, which brought some humor that Maguire had trouble portraying (at least in his first and third movies).

Saturday was a day lost in lines for me. I tried to get into the "Futurama" panel (right) by joining the Ballroom 20 line almost two hours before the noon panel, but didn’t get in until about 1:45, where I watched the Family Guy presentation. I then moseyed across the convention center to the Avengers vs. X-Men panel, which presented little new information about Marvel’s ongoing crossover.

But noticing that the same ballroom was to be used for the ever-popular “Mythbusters” panel a few hours later, I decided to stay in the room. As a result, I was subjected to the whims of TV marketers. First off, I watched the pilot of Fox’s new drama “The Following.” Kevin Bacon (below right) plays a retired FBI agent consulting on taking down the copycat followers of a serial killer he arrested. In this endeavor, he is being “assisted” by the manipulative serial killer himself. I actually enjoyed the pilot a lot. Good acting, good tension and some nice twists. I don’t see what the premise has to do with Comic-Con, however.

(On a side note, if there’s any panel video with me in the background, my Bacon Number has dropped to one!)

The other pilot, for NBC’s “Revolution,” was also promising, but less so than “The Following.” This series has a premise that some mysterious force knocked out all the power in the world 15 years previous. Setup was good, but execution was a bit clunky. It did bring up one sobering thought for me during the panel:

Pilot for NBC's #Revolution just pointed out that a world w/o electricity means a world w/o ice cream. Don't wanna live in that world. #SDCC
— John C. Baker (@jcb10) July 15, 2012

The “Mythbusters” panel itself, hosted by John Landis, was great. It featured some interesting back-stage stories. My favorite was one where the crew tried to test the myth where a drunk man asked a blind friend to drive him home with his guidance, under the assumption that a ticket for driving without a license was not as bad as one for a DUI. They found that a sober person, describing when to turn, brake, go, etc., could indeed guide a blind person quite well, but a drunk person made the blind person drive like a drunken driver!

The "Mythbusters" panel. From left: Director John Landis, Tory Belleci, Kari Byron, Jamie Hyneman, Grant Imahara and Adam Savage.

Sunday, I took no chances. I got up shortly after 6 a.m. and hopped an early train, getting into the massive Hall H line at about 7:05 a.m., hoping to get into the 12:30 p.m. “Doctor Who” panel. It didn’t look promising at first, as the linked snaked through the outdoor queueing area, long behind the convention center and around an artificial island/marina in the back. But I got into the hall about 10:30 and sat to enjoy the presentations.

While not a watcher of either "Fringe" or "Supernatural," the two panels I had to wait through, it was apparent those shows have an enthusiastic fanbase. But they had nothing on the love the audience showered on "Doctor Who" producer/writer Steven Moffett and stars Matt Smith, Karen Gillen and Arthur Darvill. We got to see some intriguing extended clips from the upcoming season, including one appropriately titled, "Dinosaurs in Space."

The "Doctor Who" panel. From left: Moderator Chris Hardwick, showrunner Steven Moffett, Matt Smith (The Doctor), Karen Gillan (Amy), Arthur Darvill (Rory) and producer Caroline Skinner.

After the "Who" panel broke up, I headed over to a panel featuring another beloved genre powerhouse, Buffy: The Vampire Slayer. Celebrating 20 years since the (poor compared to the almost-unrelated television series) Buffy movie started the franchise off and made Joss Whedon an entertainment powerhouse, the panel featured actors from the movie (although not the promised Kristy Swanson) and TV series and writers and artists from both the TV show and comic series. With the panel followed up by a sing-along showing of the musical episode "Once More, with Feeling," Whedonites left satiated.

At the "Buffy at 20" panel: actors Nicholan Brendon (Zander) and James Marsters (Spike) and writer Jane Espenson.

I did have a nice fan-interactive moment on Sunday, when I tweeted that I'd been right next to Plait while leaving a panel. Plait wrote back that I should have introduced myself, and I replied that I didn't want to interrupt his phone call. That brought on this reply:

@jcb10 You are a rare man, sir. Consider your hand shaken.

— Phil Plait (@BadAstronomer) July 15, 2012

That's what's great about what I still refer to as the "San Diego Comic Convention" -- despite the now-huge scale, fans can still have direct contact with celebrities.

My first Comic-Con was in 1992, a much-more restrained affair. It's gotten more crowded, more expensive and less about comics each year. But it's always (except for lines and frustration over not getting into certain panels) been a fun event overall. It's just taken a bit more adaptability on my part and forced me to lower my expectations over what I'm going to do in San Diego. For example, this was probably, save for a whistle stop in 2004, the convention in which I've spent the least time on the floor (less than 90 minutes over four days) and the Con where I bought the least -- one measly comic.

But where else can you take a picture with the Adam West-era Batmobile?

Just a note: I'm still trying to find the owner of the camera I found last year!

Crescenta Valley High Class of 1989 reunion

Our class gift, a sign at what was once CV High's main entrance.

Some people think of high school as either the worst times of their lives or the best (in my opinion, if it’s either – assuming one’s out of high school – that’s pretty sad). To others the time seems to slip by quickly, with barely a notice. To me, high school was probably the most formative era of my life. It’s where I discovered my interests in publishing, law enforcement and civic affairs. It’s where I developed my personality, my humor, my knowledge base.

Right: Me at my high school graduation, June 21, 1989.

Last night was my 20-year high school reunion. The Crescenta Valley High School class of 1989 was gathered back together at the 94th Aero Squadron restaurant in Van Nuys.

What’s scary to me is not that this was our 20-year reunion, but rather that it’s been 10 years since our 10-year reunion. I had thought the first ten years went fast, but the next ten went even faster. Time seems to pass at an exponential rate.

My 10-year reunion was one when I felt much like I did after graduation itself – a time full of hope and potential. I had recently graduated from college, was freshly engaged and had a good entry-level job in the career of my choice. The future was wide open. Ten years later, I’m, after some employment setbacks, in an even worse career situation than in 1999 and will soon start grad school -- the third time I’ll be starting my education again after thinking it was finished. The time has flown by and I again feel as if I need to start my life (at least I’ve still got the great wife).

I’d been hesitant about going to the reunion, honestly. My wife Claire was unable to attend, so I’d need to go “stag.” The one fellow member of the CVHS class of 1989 with whom I maintain regular contact chose not to attend (most of my high school friends were in different class years). Therefore I would be going on my own – a daunting proposal, as I am not one of the more social people you would meet. But I also knew, high school being among the most-important times of my life, that I would regret not going, even if only to turn a page on a long-over part of my life.

The trepidation had built to a crescendo the past couple weeks, and I didn’t really know why. Were the opinions of these people – most of whom I had not seen in two decades – still important to me? I decided to find out.

It turns out that about a third of our class, which was about 350 strong, made it, along with various significant others and a couple fresh babies (and about five more in various bellies). I ended up being able to recognize about half the attendees without nametags, which I thought an accomplishment because my mental images of these late 30s-something people were stuck on their 16-year-old forms.

Our class president, Michelle S. (for their privacy, I’m not using my classmates’ full names except for those with a high public profile) was among the first I saw and not only did she look great, but the whole setup reminded me why I voted for her in the first place. A table of memorabilia lined the wall – old photos, programs from football games to awards ceremonies, cheerleader sweaters, etc. The well-anointed buffet table beckoned with a generous spread and the al fresco dining overlooking the busy general aviation runway of Van Nuys airport was inviting. She even got the weather to cooperate.

Because I came alone, I could fill any empty seat and was able to sit with a bunch of folks with whom I didn’t generally hang out with at CV. It actually worked out well.

For the second straight reunion, I ended up sitting at the same table as Cristy Thom, who later gained fame as Miss February 1991 and later showing off her considerable talents as an artist. I had a minor crush on her in junior high (she had the 80s Madonna thing going on before I had even heard of Madonna), but we got along like oil and water – even getting into a minor scuffle in the seventh grade. But the last couple times I’ve seen her she’s been as sweet as can be. I guess we’ve both grown up.

Me and Cristy Thom

Besides Cristy, I was at a table with Tom T., Marc L., Tim P., Sadie L., and Victor R. (who probably was one of the first friends I made in the first grade at Fremont Elementary, although I doubt I exchanged more that a couple words with him since 1979). People seemed genuinely interested in my roundabout life story and I found theirs’ interesting as well.

Sadie L. and I had our longest, most-substantive conversation since the seventh grade. After the mandatory “you look good” comments were exchanged, we mutually came to the conclusion that only the “beautiful” people came to 20th reunions (very few folks were without hair or unusually overweight were in attendance). I think we liked the idea, as it appealed to both our egos.

I had the longest, more interesting conversations of the night with Allen A. and his wife Angela. Allen was a recent immigrant when the alphabetical closeness of his name put him directly in front of my in history class. It was a genuine pleasure seeing how he’s developed. Angela also recently finished an MPA program at CSUN, so she was able to give me some tips and allay some of my concerns about my upcoming program.

It was a pleasure seeing everybody, especially the following folks for the following reasons: Fred K. and Steve H., who are both actively working for Uncle Sam; Kim F., one of the first people I met at Fremont and saw all the way through; Kevin G., whom Rob and I got into a knockdown, drag-out fight on a summer night in the middle of Foothill Boulevard but harbors no ill will; Kurt R., whom I met on my first day at Rosemont Junior High and whose humor remains intact; and Bob J., one of my oldest elementary school friends, who continues to work in the railroad business. (If I saw you and didn’t name you, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t happy to see you.)

A lot of people didn’t go and their absence was disappointing. But I really did appreciate the chance to catch up with those who did attend and I extend my greatest respect and admiration to all my classmates, whether or not they made it to the reunion.

As I noted, I had some anxiety going in. But those worries subsided rather quickly once I got there and I quite literally felt a bit sad when I had to leave (had the big drive back to San Diego ahead, so I lit out about 11:30 p.m.). I am very glad I went and had a good time. Whether high school was the best of times or not, it was probably the most influential part of my life and it felt right to acknowledge it. Our senior prom theme was Whitney Houston’s “One Moment in Time.” While we can never get that moment back, it’s nice to be reminded it was there.

Edit (July 29, 2009): Can't believe I forgot to mention how proud I was of my classmates that the dance floor remained empty until "White Lines (Don't Do It)" by Grandmaster + Melle Mel was spun. My old school mates went "old school!"

Kurt R., Bob J. and myself.

2008 events of note

Time is winding down on this year and while I don't have the time or mental stamina to put together a comprehensive list, here are my personal top seven events/stories of 2008:

7. Burgeoning pop cultural awareness. Thanks to the wonders of the Internet and having a lonely desk job, I was able to expand my horizons -- watching new TV (I became a Doctor Who fan 40 years after the fact), movies and listening to new music. I'm not a cultural shut-in anymore.

6. The 2008 Baker Bash in San Diego. An excuse to celebrate my grandfather's 80th birthday, but also a chance to reconnect with family I hadn't seen in a decade and an opportunity for them to meet Ian.

5. Rob Roy's visit (late October). I haven't had much contact with my old, pre-Bay Area friends in a while. Rob's trip out here showed that friendships could continue without missing a beat.

4. Laura and Krista's wedding (June 28). A vindication of my belief that intelligent adults should be able to make their own decisions. Plus it was a nice road trip with Claire.

3. Suffering rejection (April, June, December). Not getting a couple coveted job offers (with the Dept. of State in the spring and the City of San Francisco in the summer) were low points, but hopefully they'll help refocus my future. Not getting into grad school on my first attempt hurt, but it gives me time to reflect.

2. Nasal Polyp surgery (Oct. 10). A relatively minor proceedure, but one that has greatly improved my quality of life -- I didn't know how bad I needed surgery until after I got it.

1. Australia trip (November). A great voyage that took in my loves of travel and history and gave me a deserved break from chaos.

A couple out-of-the-way San Francisco secrets (or practicing at playing tourist)

Above: Downtown San Francisco as seen from the top of San Bruno Mountain.

Lots of people who live in or near towns renowned for their tourist trade, such as San Francisco, rarely get to see what makes their area such a magnet. In my case, I first came to the Bay Area on a tourist basis -- long before I moved here -- so I got a little idea of what might impress the out-of-towners. Specifically, I've learned some places off the beaten track. My friend Rob's visit this week was an opportunity to play tourist a bit for myself -- after all, my Australian trip begins six days from today.

Claire and Ian took Rob through the usual tourist haunts of Golden Gate Park and the Golden Gate Bridge on Sunday while I was working. So when I had Tuesday off, I took Rob to one of the area's best-kept secret wonders: San Bruno Mountain Park.

Not only does the park have a great picnic area and good hiking trails, but anyone who likes scenic vistas will appreciate the view from the summit of the 1,314-foot peak. There is an almost 360-degree view of the north Peninsula (you might have to walk around a radio tower to see it all) and stunning views of the Pacific Ocean and the San Francisco skyline (see above). The entrance to the park is clearly labeled off of Guadalupe Canyon Parkway (accessible from Daly City or Brisbane), admission is just $5 per car and you can drive all the way up Radio Road to the top.

On Wednesday, we picked Ian up from school and went to Half Moon Bay where Rob -- the former Navy man -- wanted to "see some boats." So we went out to Pillar Point Harbor, where one can walk along the pier to get close to the small fishing fleet docked there. We then proceeded to a pumpkin patch off of Highway 92, where Ian merrily ran through the assorted squashes. San Mateo County's coastside agricultural output is surprising considering the urbanization on the bay side. Below: Ian, a big Star Wars fan, finds his boat at Pillar Point.

On Thursday, despite my having to work in the daytime, Rob and I had just enough time to blow some quarters at Malibu Grand Prix (where he smoked me both on virtual video and real go-cart tracks) before heading into SF to catch BART to Oakland. We alighted in downtown Oakland then made our way to Jack London Square, where Mr. Roy -- who had been jonesing for a formal seafood dinner all week -- finally got his swordfish at Scott's Seafood Restaurant. He said his meal was excellent, although my Petrale Sole was just OK.

But the real highlight was the trip back, where we availed ourselves of the Oakland Ferry terminal a block from the square. A nighttime ferry ride across San Francisco Bay is a low-light photographer's dream, with spectacular views of the SF skyline from as soon as one clears the Oakland Estuary. A good use of $6.25 (although the last ferry leaves early -- 8:55 p.m. -- on weeknights).

Ironically the ferry ride ended up at probably the most overtly tourist place Rob went with me during his visit -- Fisherman's Wharf. Of course, that was palatable when combined with a nice, rich sundae at Ghiradelli Square.

Going right back to the 20th Century (for a few days at least)

No, there's nothing wrong with my nice new iPhone. My step back to the past is due to the more fundamental -- I have no e-mail, at least for the weekend.

The server up at Humboldt State University is being upgraded, so since late Friday and extending to at least late Sunday I'm without e-mail. (I gotten to keep my university e-mail address for 12 years now because I anted up and paid for a lifetime membership in the alumni association. Best money I've ever spent, considering how often I change ISPs, and it made my application for a student discount on my recent Mac purchase seem all the more legit.)

I've had to fight the temptation to check my e-mail every few minutes, but other than that, I've discovered that I don't really need to check e-mail that often. It'll be good practice for my Australian trip, where I may face up to four days in a row without Internet access. It's good to know I'm not going to feel naked.

Another blast from the past (and a good reason to avoid constant e-mail checking) is that my good friend Robert Roy (he's got a blog too!) has finally gotten out to visit us and meet Ian. Good job Rob, it only took you 4.83 years! I look forward to showing him about town. Right: Rob in 1988.

Moving to the Bay Area almost 14 years ago has definitely contributed to the deterioration of ties with my old friends deteriorate, but I'm trying to reconnect. Not that staying in the Glendale area would have helped -- of the three main people I hung out with in high school, one's moved to Georgia, one to Nevada and Rob now lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico. We're a wandering bunch ...

Left: For comparison, me in 1989, check out the hair and shirt!

In an aside, I visited Crescenta Valley High School's website in order to pull me and Rob's senior photos. To illustrate how things of changed, I paid $24 for both myself and my date (tickets were sold as a pair) to go to Homecoming in 1988. This year, tickets are only sold individually, cost $35 each and everyone has to show an electronic student ID to enter the dance. Sheesh.