Five…Five…Five…

One of the things I don't think some people "get" about Comic-Con is that it's not all for them. It's not all for anyone. I keep urging all to take the few minutes — well, it might be more than a few — to look over the entire programming schedule — or at least the list of my panels — and to take note of the events they'd like to attend. I get the feeling some folks do that, notice all the things there that don't interest them and then think, "This convention is not for me."

You're not supposed to feel like the entire con is being staged with folks like you in mind any more than you should be able to scan the TV listings and see only shows you'd want to watch. You're supposed to find six or seven things that you might enjoy — which even if you're there Thursday through Sunday ought to be plenty. This will be my 49th of these in San Diego and even at the first one, where the schedule was like a dozen programs, only two or three were of interest to me.

Lots of things there aren't. Our friends over at The San Diego-Comic Con Unofficial Blog are listing hundreds of "exclusive" items that will be for sale only at the con. Great, fine, terrific, I don't want any of them. But I think it's great that so many people are so excited about the offerings. There are panels there about TV shows I don't watch, about movies I will never see, about videogames I will never play, etc. I have been reading comics since I could read anything and I don't even know half the comic book characters who'll be paraded and promoted around the hall.

This is what media is today. There's so much of it that no one can follow it all. What we all do — and there's no other way to approach it than this — is to pick and choose. Think of it as a big buffet and don't feel excluded because there's stuff there you don't want to eat.

I have a vast number of food allergies. Take me to a buffet and what goes through my mind as I scan the offerings is: Can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that, can't eat that…ah, roast turkey! Great! I'm happy! Comic-Con International works like that for me.

Yeah, I help it along a bit by creating some of the programming but even if I didn't, I see plenty of things on that schedule I'd love to see. And of course, unavoidably, some of them I can't attend because they're opposite panels I'm on.

Despite what some people think, I am not part of the convention staff and I certainly am not their Complaint Department. Every year though, I hear bitches 'n' moans, often from people who attend the con with expectations untethered to reality. No one offered them a great job there or no dealer was selling mint condition copies of Fantastic Four #1 for twenty bucks so it was a rotten convention. That kind of thing. I also hear from people who can't quite grasp the concept that if you attend something that everyone wants to go to, it just might be a wee bit crowded.

Comic-Con is what it is and what it always will be. If it bothers you, there's only one solution to that: Don't go. A couple hundred thousand people would love to have your badge. And if they can get over the fact that it's not designed to cater exclusively to their needs and interests, they'll have a very good time.