Early Monday A.M.

Hard to believe, considering what a good time I had, that I have so little to write about this year's Comic-Con International. What with panels, meetings and books to sign, I barely had five minutes in which to be bored. I'd have liked a few more moments when I didn't have to be somewhere so I could have prowled the hall in search of all those friends I never ran into. I know some of you were there and I'm sorry our paths didn't cross. I did enjoy meeting any number of e-mail correspondents…even a guy who sends me political tirades about how we must immediately drop nuclear bombs on any nation where the "wrong" religions fllourish. In person, he didn't seem too insane. I was expecting Jack Nicholson in The Shining crossed with Mothra.

Yeah, there were a lot of people there, including some not dressed as The Joker. I've decided that going to the Comic-Con International and moaning about crowds is like going to a strip joint and complaining that there are fake breasts on the premises. On the other hand, could we institute a rule that no exhibitor may distribute carry-around bags that are more than twice the width of the person who'll be carrying them around?

I also don't think you should be allowed to set up in the autograph area unless you have proof that somewhere, at some time, somebody has actually asked you for an autograph.

A few of my friends seemed bothered by the many costumed folks in the place…as if this is something new at fan conventions. The only thing that bothers me is that they are drastically (though understandably) over-represented in the news coverage. When I call my mother from the con to check on her, I always have to reassure her that I'm not at that moment dressed as Catwoman. Which is usually true.

Occasionally, you start a panel even though one or more guests has yet to arrive for it. Today, as I was about to begin one of those, an absent guest called my cellphone to tell me that he was driving around outside the convention center…and since he was unable to find a place to park, he was going home.

One dining tip which may be good for next year: I always complain about the food at these things because…well, because it's usually three notches below atrocious. But out in the back on the top level, there was a little outdoor setup where hot dogs and hamburgers were being barbecued and sold for about double what you'd pay in a real restaurant. They were pretty decent if you knew the secret, which was to ask for one that hadn't been cooked for some previous convention.

Almost lastly: A kid who was maybe eleven years old came up and asked me if I'd ever written The Hulk in some comic or cartoon. I told him no, I hadn't. He reacted as if I'd told him I'd never tasted chocolate or smelled a flower or listened to jazz. His eyes went wide in amazement, he stammered a bit then asked in a loud, mystified voice, "Is there some good reason why not?"

Can't believe it all went so fast. At the first San Diego Con I attended, which was the first one ever, time moved much more slowly. There was less to see and hear at the con but the hours lasted a full sixty minutes back then, so there was time enough to do most of what you wanted. Some people have suggested adding another day or even two to the convention. I don't think they need that. I think they need to get rid of these hours that only last about eleven minutes each, and get back to the era when an hour was an hour. Good night.