Wizard World Boston. What else can I say? The premier magazine about comic books had been hosting their “Wizard World” parties all across the country for years. They had finally decided to come to Boston, and God bless them for that.

To be honest, I think they simply piggy backed on a normal large-scale comic book convention that makes its way to the area every year or so. I don’t mean that in a negative way, but I’ll just say that the show wasn’t anything that hadn’t been done before. It was still a fine and grand thing.

Of course, I have celebrity stories.

For filing under “brief brushes of fame,” I almost walked into Joe Quesada, Editor-In-Chief of Marvel Comics. I was bringing some things back out to my car when I nearly slammed into a gentleman at the door who was rushing to get in. It wasn’t anything major, in fact, it wasn’t until after I said, “Oh, sorry, excuse me,” and walked by that I realized that was Joe Quesada. I turned around to see him vanish into the crowd. I wanted to say something, something profound, something no fan boy had ever said before. Of course, I couldn’t think of anything. In retrospect, I can think of a million things I should have shouted out. “You RULE!” or “Keep up the good work!” or even, “Tell Kevin Smith to get off his ass and finish writing the comic books he started.” (Chris thought of that one, but if it had popped into my mind at the time, I would have said it right there).

Don’t you hate it when you’re in a long line, waiting to buy lunch at the only concession stand at the convention when you notice there’s one personal pan pizza left and you’re almost next in line, then, out of nowhere, Kane Hodder, who plays Jason Vorhees in all the Friday the 13th movies, steps in line and snatches up the last pizza? I hate when that happens. Seriously though, I wasn’t mad or anything. He was a celebrity guest, a V.I.P., and a genuinely cool guy (he did ask politely before he went ahead of us). Also, a genuinely big guy (the physical requirement for his role). I’m not saying I couldn’t have taken him, but he was probably packing a chainsaw somewhere.

That was about it. I can’t say I actually waited in line to see any of these celebrities. There are a lot of reasons why I didn’t. There is no doubt in my mind that all of the celebrities who attended were cool, friendly people. But, why would you want to line up to see them? Why would you pay $20 to have your picture taken with them? (What’s the matter Lou Farigno? Not making enough money from lifting things? Whoa there. That was uncalled for, Jon). Anyway, as I was saying, I think getting a picture taken with these celebrities would be cool, but not $20 of cool. In the end, it was probably very good that I did not wait in line to meet Eliza Dushku, I would have made an ass of myself.

Eliza: “OK, who’s next? Well, hello there. Hey, I like that t-shirt, “Chicks dig scrawny pale guys!” That’s awesome!

Jon: “Gaaaaaa…”

Aside from celebrities, there was a wide selection of artists. It was tough to muster up interest in most of what was on display. Granted, there was some incredible stuff, but I think I was on the lookout for artists who were different than your standard super-hero or mythic scenery works. I didn’t really find that there. Further drowning out the joy of visiting artists was the guilt I felt whenever I passed them by without looking at their stuff. I felt like I was neglecting a puppy, that is, in the cases where no one else was visiting them either. They’d just look at you with their big, sad eyes, holding out their portfolio for you to peruse. As I said, it was all stellar stuff, very enjoyable, but that particular day I was on the lookout for something new and fresh.

Though I picked up many a comic that day, the non-comic-related merchandise was just as juicy. Every action figure, like, ever made was on sale. Books full of spectacular artwork, even the kind I was looking for, stood on displays in booths next to lunchboxes, light saber toys, and Battlestar Galactica mugs. Bootleg videos were aplenty. Frankly, I think if the copyright police where in there, they’d arrest half the vendors; selling DVD’s of cheaply made television recordings, copied movies in cases with poor inkjet labels meant to represent the original cover, and obscure porn tapes by the boxful. In reality, most of the movies available were illegal and overpriced, not to mention hack versions of better commercial material and videos found free on the internet. There are always gems in the pile though, I’ve discovered those in years past. There’s always that obscure foreign film that you heard so much about, but never saw stateside, or that extended edition of a movie that was never released (of course, with DVD these days, they release every last crap of useless footage they have to begin with, so the bootlegs are nothing new). I can’t claim to be free of the vice of buying a bootleg, but I’ve made certain just to buy the stuff that I can’t get anywhere else.

In the end, I walked away with several good books at bargain prices, some posters and stickers, and, my prized purchase, an 18”x24” print of an Alex Ross painting of Super Grover. Those of you who know who Grover is probably think it’s ridiculous for a grown man to buy a poster like this. Those of you who know who both Grover and Alex Ross are will probably break into my house to steal it for themselves.

Oh, and I took this picture.

I managed to forget I had my camera for the rest of the day.

Overall, a great time was had.