We've — and I speak for many — been having a fine time here at the San Diego Comic Fest. I still love the big gathering in this town every July but a low-key variation with time to talk and time to sleep is also a delight. By the time Sergio and I drive home this evening, I'll have done ten panels in three days and filled the remainder of the con with great conversations, many of them with friends I've known well over half my life.
I got one person mad at me. It was a gent I didn't know who wanted a number of books I've worked on signed…and one that I had nothing to do with. I told him "I didn't work on this. I didn't even read it" but he insisted I write my name on its cover and as I did, I said, "This must be how Donald Trump feels when he signs those Bibles." Wrong guy to say that in front of.
The crowd here is older and I'd wager there's been more discussion in the building about Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko than about anyone who got into doing comic books this century. Later today, I do the second of two panels on Bob Clampett, a talented gent whose work is well overdue for a round of re-examination and appreciation. And we had a nice panel/memorial yesterday for our late friend Batton Lash.
Just got a text to join some friends for breakfast so I'm going to go clean-up and pack-up and then go eat-up. I'll try to post more about this event later but first I'm going to go enjoy the rest of it. Bye now.