Superheros or Zeros? Five Brutally Honest Takes from My First Comic-Con

Of course I dressed up for San Diego Comic-Con! Didn’t you recognize me? I was the gawky, weary, big-haired journalist with a glazed look in her eyes. The one standing impatiently at the traffic light, then trying to bypass the dawdling mini-Wonder Woman child. I don’t care how cute you are, sweetie. It’s hot, and I’m late. Move it.

The cherry has been popped, the seal has been broken. I can now walk around my Upper West Side neighborhood wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “I Survived My First Comic-Con.” I had gone a full two decades without traveling to Southern California to experience all those panels and press conferences and activations. It’s not as if this longtime movie critic has no interest in getting an early glimpse at the new Lego movie or Glass. I just have a thing about, you know, people. Lots of people. People who storm into a conventional hall on opening night as if it’s Best Buy on Black Friday circa 2006 just to get their hands on something called a Funko.

But this year, my awesome editors at Parade asked me to cover #SDCC18. My number was up. Mind you, until that assignment, the only convention of any kind I had ever attended was Rewind-Con in 2016 in suburban Chicago and that was only because it featured a reunion of the Beverly Hills 90210 cast. (Can ya blame me.)…