Most people who visit Comic-Con take home to-be-treasured-forever memories, autographs, photos, merchandise and souvenirs. I always take home some of those plus an enormous feeling of accomplishment. I did all the stuff I was supposed to do…or almost all. There were friends there I didn't get to see and others I did see but didn't spend nearly enough time with. Since the con, I have had phone conversations with a couple of them — conversations that should have occurred in person — and I have a few more such conversations to have.
I mentioned a lot of trouble checking into the hotel — parking, getting our stuff up to the room, etc. — then dealing with a flurry of mysterious charges to my credit card. I should have also mentioned that check-out was just the opposite. It went like a cool breeze, including the proper resolution of all those credit card puzzles. At least, I think they all were resolved. The drive home was easy and stress-free. I've never liked driving but if it was always like that, I could possibly learn to enjoy it.
I was with my longtime friend, the lovely actress Brinke Stevens, and we stopped off to eat, stretch our legs, use our respective restrooms and gas-up in San Juan Capistrano. That is a lovely…I was going to type "city" but "village" might be more appropriate. We did the eating and restrooms at a lovely Italian restaurant called Ciao Pasta which was just opening for the day when we stumbled in so we had the outdoor patio mostly to ourselves. The contrast to Comic-Con could not have been starker and I found myself wishing the restaurant wasn't 68 miles from my home. And by the way: They make a really fine Tagliatelle Bolognese there.