I’m still studying for my medical boards recertification which is in three weeks.  I’m re-reviewing material I’ve mostly forgotten since the beginning of the year, like spent spells in a wizard’s repertoire.  [Warning!  Nerd alert!  Geek overload!]  Per 1st edition Dungeon & Dragon rules, one has to memorize that stuff over and over again.  It gets easier with time and experience though (a Staff of the Magi wouldn’t hurt either).

It’s taking its toll on my constitution.  Lately, I wake up with medical facts bouncing around in my head from the night before.   Sometimes I can’t sleep and my heart races [intermittent fast heart rate, hypertension, flushing = pheochromocytoma].   This afternoon my throat was on fire.  [Reflux -> Barrett's esophagus -> esophageal cancer.]  That’s what I get for eating after a midnight shift and crashing.  [High grade esophagus dysplasia = needs esophagectomy.]  My head was pounding too.  The differential diagnosis includes:

1) too little sleep,

2) too much stress,

3) too much studying,

4) too much caffeine or

5) not enough caffeine.

Coming down with a cough too.  [Dry cough + aches + bad X-ray + pharyngitis = mycoplasma or chamydophila.]  Yesterday I woke up just in time to pick the kids up at school.

My eyes were sore from lack of sleep [eye pain = optic neuritis = sign of early multiple sclerosis], but I spied Sun Su walking down the school steps.  He seemed so much older with his bag slung over his shoulder.  [Winged scapula = thoracic nerve injury.]  Little Ooseung followed at his side, her chin up to face a world slightly bigger than she is.  [Inability to look down = progressive supranuclear palsy.]

I acquiesced to their request to go on the playground.  Brain and body were too fatigued to resist.  My mood has become dark with the number of times I’ve had to tell them, “No, I can’t, I have to study,” these past couple months.  Supreme knowledge is a demanding, vengeful, and costly pursuit, isn’t it, Raistlin?  ["Gold" skin and pupils + psychiatric illness + weakened heart and liver = Wilson's Disease.]

Musical notes drifted strangely through the breezy air as my son led the trek to the playground.  [Auditory hallucinations = schizophrenia or stroke in temporal lobe.]  An afterschool child was playing on a mounted tube instrument like a novice bard.  Sun Su precariously climbed to the top of the monkey bar dome and smiled at me.

“Careful,” I said.  [Traumatic hyperextension of neck = Hangman's fracture, C-2 vertebra = death.]

Ooseung eyed the sandbox next to us, but then she ran over to the swings instead.  I was relieved.  [Sandbox = animal feces = tapeworm, intestinal parasite.]

“Look, Baby, a squirrel!”  Sun Su scouted, pointing at nothing that I could see.  [Rabies = rare in squirrels.]

“YAAAAAHHH!!  SQUIRRRRRELLL!!” she yelled out with berserker rage as she chased it down for dear life.

I shadowed my party of halflings into the woodlands behind the school.  “Adventure!” Sun Su exclaimed as he rangerly maneuvered around branches and slippery slopes.  Hmm, I didn’t teach him that word.  Treasure abounded – a bottle cap, a Baskin Robbins cup, a rotting apple with ants, a basketball, and a box of Cheez-its.

Our little leader scavenged two sticks strong enough to break other sticks among the fallen branches and trees.  He gave the big one to his little sister and engaged a sapling tree in swordplay, stopping only to point out another squirrel.  “SQUIRRELL!!  A BIG ONE!  A BIG ONE!!”  Ooseung went on the rampage again.  While ducking branches with soft earth underfoot, I felt a cool kiss on the cheek from what must have been a wind fairy.  I remembered these half-real, half-imaginary worlds from childhood.

Then I heard the sound of a child crying, not mine.  He was standing alone against the back wall of the school farther away.

“Do you know that kid?” I asked Sun Su.

“No.  Don’t go,” he cautioned.

I walked a little closer, but stayed a fair distance away so as not to scare the boy, “Hey!  Are you okay?  Are you lost?”

He stopped and looked at me.  “No.  I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” I yelled back, before he disappeared around the corner.

“Let’s see what’s going on over there,” I told my young ranger and tiny barbarian.

We walked down a natural tunnel with webby school windows on one side and overarching trees on the other.  (Of course my iPhone batteries were dead at this point – hence, no pics here.)

“I hear voices,” I said.  Ooseung gripped my hand.  I looked around the corner.

It was another playground filled with more kids and several moms.  The crying boy was there too, playing, no hint of crying.  I suspect he was probably sent to The Wall in the first place by his mom (or a teacher) for misbehaving on the playground.  I forgot they used to do that back in elementary school.

“Appah, there’s no more squirrels!  UHNG!” Ooseung made her usual angry grunt.

“They’re probably all hiding from a little girl with a giant voice who says YAHHH!”

My little girl giggled,

“I just wanted to pet their soft fur.”

“Ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” then she boomed out, “SUN SU, WE’RE GOING !!”  Just like her ummah.  Sun Su emerged from his woods exploration with a disappointed sigh,

“Aww, do we have to?”

Back to reality and my spell books.

[Stimulation of oxytocin and vasopressin, psychological attachment, warmth = LOVE.]

So, five days post-Comic Con and a few things from it are still bouncing around in my cranial space (for once not a boob joke).

First off, the celebrities.  I walked right by six or seven of them barely realizing it.  They all tend to be in a hurry in the opposite direction you’re going.  Saw Thomas Jane in the hallway – I love his movies but I could not believe how short he was.  His bio says 5’10″ but that’s got to be in heels or on phonebooks.  Saw Dennis Miller on the street – he looked the same.  Ron Perlman (Hellboy) was thinner than I expected and kind of bent over like his health was suffering.  Kevin Sorbo (Hercules) looked the same.  Jeremy O’Connell and his entourage passed by; he’s quite tall.

Kevin and I sat in the discussions for writing and drawing (and one for digital coloring to save our seats and avoid another line).  I felt kinship with the artist as he described the thought process while pencilling Wolverine’s heavy frame and gave solid advice to draw from real life (i.e., references).  Hearing comic book writing legends like Marv Wolfman, Terry Moore, Brian Michael Bendis, and Mark Waid talk about how they get from Point A to Point B in their work was inspiring to say the least.

One writer said that he procrastinates with his writing every day, but once he starts, he remembers how happy it makes him and wonders why he didn’t get to it in the first place.  Brian Michael Bendis said his best thoughts come with cardiovascular activity, like biking.  Marv Wolfman had so much to say in his hour that he ran out of time before he ran out of cards.  Some of the writers were well-disciplined in their approach (reminded me of writer friend Jim Valvis‘s dedication).  Others were kings of last-minute procrastination.

The very last panel discussion on our last day at Comic Con turned out to be my favorite though.  It was run by Eisner award winning Fables creator, Bill Willingham, a favorite writer, artist, and inspiration of mine since the first Elementals comic came out in 1984 (I was 14).  I used to copy his line work back then.  It might be why I kept drawing in the first place.  From those lines to this one.  The wait was about 40 minutes, near the end of which, Mr. Willingham himself walked by, noticed the gap in front of us, stopped, and asked us directly:

“Hey, why’d they stop the line with you guys?  Is this line for the bad people?  You guys don’t look bad.”

“…”

I was thinking: “Oh my God, Bill Willingham is talking to us… directly!”

Kevin was thinking:  “Who is that guy?  Does he work here?  Why does he care?”

“Oh, they just separated the line here to keep the exits clear.”

“Ah, okay,” and he hurried into the conference hall.

“That was him.”

“Who?”

“Bill Willingham.  The guy talking to us.  The one we’re in line to see.”

After 25 years of idolizing the man … that was pretty cool.

The panel itself was by far the funnest hour of the trip.  Bill Willingham is hilarious, a top showman.  As a bonus, seeing Matt Sturges up there was a world’s colliding kind of moment.  I remember him from his early journal days, deftly writing about  his angry yellow shirt, performing novels in your head, and the hair in his ears.  Now he’s a writing sensation at DC Comics, authoring Jack of Fables, House of Mystery, Midwinter, Office of Shadow, and a lot more.  He even wrote me into a page of his Blue Beetle comic back in 2008.

As always, there were a couple of oddball questions, like the tiny girl with big words asking when is a fable too new to become a Fable.  Matt answered without missing a beat, “Like Knight Rider?” Another so-called “fan” dropped the Race Bomb regarding the lack of African fables.  It’s such an unfair question sometimes, considering some of the best creative works come from a writer’s personal experiences, the writing equivalent to drawing from real life.  Not to mention Fables has featured some great Arabian and Middle Eastern stories and heroes in a time when Middle Eastern prejudice is highest in this country.  Chris Roberson answered the question with an enigmatic, “Read my next issue of Cinderella.”

Anyways, we also met Cindy Pon, another long-time blogging friend, recent pirate queen of the far seas, and author of Silver Phoenix (and upcoming Fury of the Phoenix), a Chinese-themed adventure story with glowing reviews.  It’s the one book in the Young Adult section that doesn’t have any fucking emo vampires in it or on it.

During a writing panel, Cindy asked,

“How’s the writing and drawing going?”

“Eh.  On hold this year for my board exam.  Studying,” I answered.

“… Gaming.”

“…”

Sometimes you can know someone too fucking LONG.

All in all, this vacation made me realign my own goals and external and internal impediments to them.  Talk is cheap though.  Inspiration is nothing without perspiration and determination.  A life-changing moment only means something if it lasts longer than that moment.  A point without a line doesn’t get you anywhere.  It’s either the beginning of a new path or just an ending to a sentence.

[Click to see picture that Amy rejected]

Sidenote: My local comic book store, Vault of Midnight, actually won the Will Eisner Spirit of Comics Retailer award this year.  That was neat too.

“I am never going to one of these things again.”
– Amy,
May 2010 at the Motor City Comic Con

We booked the hotel for the San Diego Comic Con relatively late (as in two months ago) and hence had to pack two kids, Amy, myself, and cousin Kevin in a tiny one bed, single room at the (Dis)Comfort Inn.  But like the superhero saying goes: With great awesomeness, comes a lot of shit.

COMIC CON TIP #1:  Buy your convention tickets early, like within a month that they go on sale.

COMIC CON TIP #2:  Make reservations for your hotel and plane tickets the month you buy the convention tickets.

The first half day before the San Diego Comic Con opened, we went to Sea World (only 8 miles from the convention center – thanks for the suggestion, A).  The kids loved it.

(Click pics to enlarge.  Hover mouse over pic for invaluable commentary.)

After Sea World, it was off to Comic Con.  The line for our badges was short.  The line to get into the actual convention area was three hours in a large but stuffy hall.  My underrated superpower, Diminished Sense of Smell, was incredibly useful here.  (Amy’s superpower, Ajumma Rage, continued to charge exponentially though.)

When we finally entered the main area of the convention (the Exhibit Hall), I was greatly relieved to find the crowd surprisingly sparse for the first half hour.  But after that it was like cramming through the “popular crowd” congested hallways in high school all over again, if the popular crowd was ruled by geeks and cosplayers that is.

COMIC CON TIP #3:  If you want to get in the con as soon as the doors open, you will be waiting in lines.  If you want to get in AFTER the doors open, almost no lines and almost no difference.

COMIC CON TIP #4:  For the inevitable lines (for big celeb/movie panels), bring something to read, a laptop, or mini-gaming device.  Food is good too.

COMIC CON TIP #5:  Wear your most comfortable shoes ever.

I found some great Justice League Unlimited figures that I’ve been missing.  I walked right by Blair Butler from G4 (who looks better in person) doing an interview.  Amy found some cute hats for the kids.  O0seung got caught by the Ugly Doll area.  Sun 5u got tractor beamed into the Lego area (and snagged a passcode into the Lego MMO beta, although I doubt I’ll let him play an MMO).  Over the next several hours and days, I got caught up in the costumed fans and booth babes, exhibits 1-100 below.

(Click pics to enlarge.  Hover mouse over pic for invaluable commentary and boob jokes.)

The elf girl costume above reminds me of

COMIC CON TIP #6: If you are a pretty female in a revealing costume, expect to get pictures taken of you, every minute, hour, and day of Comic Con.  Consider bringing an overcoat (a.k.a. magical Elven Cloak of Invisibility) when you really want to get somewhere without being interrupted by cameras.  (If you’re nasty looking, don’t worry about it, life rules still apply.)

COMIC CON TIP #7:  Bring a better digital camera than your iPhone.  Higher resolution and a little zoom would be nice too.  (This is a reminder for myself.)

COMIC CON TIP #8:  Do not assume the super obese guy in front of you is dressed as The Blob (from X-Men).

COMIC CON TIP #9:  Do not assume the bald guy in the wheelchair is dressed as Professor X from the X-Men either.

COMIC CON TIP #10:  Do not assume redheads in wheelchairs are dressed as Oracle (Barbara Gordon).

COMIC CON TIP #11:  If you need a quick costume, you can always go Steampunk.  Just use 2 or more of the following: goggles, overcoat, random metal plating, pocket watch, and lameness.

_____________________________

CONVENTIONAL HEROES

At one point, Kevin and I stopped to rest and eat (the last thing on your mind at the Con until you’re about to faint, seriously) in the table area.  A familiar yellow and black masked man asked us,

“Are these seats open?”

“Sure.  Go ahead.”

The Wolverine costumer and his friend Saw plopped into the chairs.

“Man, my face feels like hamburger from this thing,” he said as he removed the mask revealing an otherwise normal looking guy.  Saw guy just nodded quietly and enigmatically behind his.

“Great costume,” Kevin said to Wolvie, “How’d you make it?”

“I got the pieces from all over,” Wolvie began his friendly tale, seeming relieved at having a normal conversation out of character.  Afterwards he excused himself to get some food.

Saw guy just sat there, eventually taking off his mask too, revealing a brown-skinned bald young man.  He seemed exhausted, sunk in his chair with a thousand yard stare towards the floor.  I didn’t pester these anonymous celebrities (not such an oxymoron in this case); they’re the best part of these conventions.  Walking around in a T-shirt gets hot and tiring as is.  Wearing their gear and posing for pics all day must be a lot harder.

The unmasked Saw fell asleep in his chair within a minute.  I saw his head jerk up twice as he seemed surprised he’d fallen asleep.  Eventually, his friend Wolvie came back.

“I am so tired,” Wolvie said to Saw in low tones, assuming no one else could hear, “Maybe it’s time we take these off and actually enjoy the convention like everyone else.  We’ve been at this for eight hours already.  That’s good enough, ya think?”

I didn’t actually hear his buddy Saw say anything.  Wolvie rubbed his face in his hands.

“Yeah, ya’ right,” Wolvie sighed, “We came all this way.  And people are really digging us.  Just a few more hours.”

His plasti-mantium claws picked up the tight-fitting face mask and put it back on, as his friend did the same.  Then with a final sigh, said almost to himself,

“It’s … showtime.”

Almost instantly, a camera popped in front of them which they enthusiastically posed for.  Then another one as they walked back toward the crowds.  And another.

Poor guys.  They were great.

_____________________________

COMIC CON TIP #12: There are a lot of great panel discussions to go to.  Look through the schedule the night before, circle them and plan accordingly.

COMIC CON TIP #13: There’s actually a babysitting/child care area ($9/hour) which is good for those long lines or panel discussions.  Superheroes have kids too.

COMIC CON TIP #14: Have fun (but take your significant other back to the hotel if she gets bored out of her mind).

I still have a few more pictures and things to say about Comic Con (the panel discussions and seeing Bill Willingham, Matt Sturges, and other acclaimed writers).  To be continued in the next entry.

]]> http://www.medeasmemoirs.com/2010/07/27/san-diego-2010/feed/ 17 http://www.medeasmemoirs.com/2010/05/16/do-you-want-to-live-forever/ http://www.medeasmemoirs.com/2010/05/16/do-you-want-to-live-forever/#comments Sun, 16 May 2010 23:24:28 +0000 scott http://www.medeasmemoirs.com/?p=1829

“Ugh.  I was up until five playing that game you recommended, Fallout 3,” cousin Kevin said when he walked in.

“Haha, I was up until three playing that again,” I replied.

And so began our sleep-deprived journey to the Motor City Comic Convention.  Two years ago, it was just Kevin, Sun Su, and me.  This year we took Amy and Ooseung too.  I told my little girl about the costumes people wear so she wanted to wear one too.  Just like every other day at home.

My almost-eight year old Sun Su was timid this year about picture-taking (the genetic apple does not fall far from the tree) but his knowledge was impressive.

“Sun Su, look, clone troopers.”

“That’s Commander Rex.”

“Who?”

“Check out these bounty hunter figures, Sun Su.  They’ve even got 4-LOM.”

“Actually that’s Zuckuss.”

(Even Kenner toys screwed up the names of 4-LOM and Zuckuss back in the day.)

I spotted a car from the Michigan branch of the Star Wars costume charity, the 501st Legion, but sadly, they didn’t seem to have an official booth this year*.  Maybe Vader had his TIE Advanced X1 repossessed in this economy and all.  They still had some fantastic representatives there though.

* [Correction: I read that they actually had a presentation in one of the speaker rooms that we missed.]

There were quite a few more celebrities this time; many that I wouldn’t have recognized but still appreciated – like Jeremy Bulloch, the actor who played Boba Fett in the original Star Wars movies (pictured above in the white hair and blue shirt).

Or Anthony Forrest, the actual actor/stormtrooper who said the immortal line, ” These aren’t the droids we are looking for.”  (Seated in the picture above, next to the green and pink Orcs … sorry, that wasn’t nice, I meant Gamorreans.)

As for more famous people, Eric Roberts was being very kissy-huggy with everyone.  I had one question for him: “Why do they keep putting you in movies?”  (He was the worst part of DOA: Dead or Alive, and that’s saying a lot).

Tia Carrere, Linda Blair (The Exorcist), Lindsay Wagner (the original bionic woman), Dawn Wells (Mary Anne from Gilligan’s Island) were all looking great (sorry, no pics).  Judging by line length, the two biggest celebs were Adam West (original Batman show) and Ray Park, although they seemed to be gone half the time too.

There were a handful (a couple of handfuls, more accurately) of former Playboy and porn models.  I am sorry to say that extensive cosmetic surgery does not age well.  As Kevin put it, “They must have used a lot of photoshop.”

The spirit of the fans is what really makes these conventions, though.  In addition to the great Star Wars costumes, there was Wolverine, The Shade, The Joker, The Riddler, and Harley Quinn (below).  There was a wonky looking Poison Ivy, but she turned out to be a he.

I overheard The Joker asking The Shade, “Are you The Gentleman Ghost?”

“The Gentleman Ghost is white.  I’m black.  I am The Shade.”

It’s hard being a B-list supervillain.

Amy was getting pretty bored but was awe-struck by Todd Bridges, best known for playing Willis in Diff’rent Strokes (any true child of 80′s TV knows where that apostrophe goes).

Amy really wanted a picture with Todd.  Childhood nostalgia makes us all innocent again.  He’s had his problems in the past, but in person, he was a super nice guy.  He could run for office … in Detroit, at least.

I, on the other hand, was starstruck by dancer/actress Sandahl Bergman, most famous for her role (and title of this entry) as Valeria in Conan the Barbarian (1982) with Arnold Schwarzenegger.  Less known but no less great, she has some sexy dance numbers in the musical, All That Jazz (1979).  I am no fan of musicals or jazz, but that is the movie I have to watch every year.

I went up to her table and perused the photos, trying not to get all fanboy-ish or personal, but really, I went into shy dork mode (the tree does not stand far from the apple).  Sandahl was immediately engaging and warm, asking about me, Amy and the kids.

“You were great in Conan but my favorite was All That Jazz,” I finally said.

“Oh?” she seemed surprised, “Are you in the industry?”

“What?  Oh, no.”

“I just ask, because most fans of that movie are in dancing or production.”

“He watches it ALL the time,” Amy helpfully interjected.

“Uh… it’s a great movie and story,” I added with brilliant insight.

“It really does stand the test of time, doesn’t it?  I worked with him, Bob Fossi, twice after that….”

I nodded and smiled and tried not to look too awkward but of course that is the first step to looking even more awkward.

She accidentally signed my photo with “To Don.”

“It’s Scott, but that’s okay.  Or you can just cross that out.  That’s fine,” I said.

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” she seemed distressed, “No, that will not do.”  She signed a new photo.

“Maybe you can save that one for when Don comes along,” I said, then, “Can I take a picture with you?”

“Of course.  May I give your husband a hug?” she asked Amy.

“I don’t care.”

After the photo, I thanked her and walked away, a little dazzled.

“You forgot your photo,” Sandahl said with her trademark wide dark eyes.

I thanked her again and turned around to leave.  Again.

“Hey, did you pay yet?” her assistant called to me.

Forgot that too.  Okay, so I was a lot dazzled.  And now, a lot more embarrassed.  Ugh.

I read afterwards that this was Sandahl Bergman’s first appearance at any show.

Sincerely charming, sexy lady.  Wow.  (Even at 58.)

Eventually it was time to leave.

“One of those big guys in the Jedi robes really smelled,” Kevin said feigning being knocked back.

“That’s their force push.”

[More pics of the Motor City Comic Con are on mania.com site.  We saw a lot of these costumes, I'm just not much of a shutterbug.]

]]> http://www.medeasmemoirs.com/2010/05/16/do-you-want-to-live-forever/feed/ 16 http://www.medeasmemoirs.com/2009/10/04/the-study/ http://www.medeasmemoirs.com/2009/10/04/the-study/#comments Sun, 04 Oct 2009 22:34:32 +0000 scott http://www.medeasmemoirs.com/?p=1507

Summer is officially over and the days are already getting cold here.

Just two weeks ago, I clearly remember sitting in the driveway, feeling the breeze flowing over my skin strangely and perfectly.  Watching Amy and the kids biking around the cul-de-sac isle like a carousel.  My son, with his slightly oversized helmet and bicycle, zig-zagging across the lawns with  determination and grace.

I wondered about the green trees and the baby blue skies.  Specifically about our species’ enjoyment of such colors in nature.   Told myself that I don’t like it because it is pretty, but rather it is pretty because this is what we land animals have adapted to liking.  Or something.

I finished reading my book (Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse) about the hyperbolic aftermath of the end of the world, and the strip club economy that would revive it.  The recurring themes that I like most about post-apocalyptia are how the broken gets used anew and the nostalgic rediscoveries.  Naked dancing girls aren’t bad either.  In print too, oddly enough.

For the past month, I’ve been rearranging one of the basement rooms into a study of sorts.  Lining the walls (more like one wall) with books I want to read and books I’ve read.  Putting keepsakes in semi-indestructible plastic containers from Target.  Old floppy disc games and role-playing rulebooks, faded painted figurines and newsprinty comic books (“Now only 35 cents!”), K-pop CDs and Corean DVDs.  Things I may never use  again, but can’t quite let go of either.  Just in case one of my mental batteries needs a jump start from the past.

While reorganizing my bomb shelter of the soul, I found little treasures like personal cards, writings, and letters, some from my brother two decades ago, a couple from patients (Silvia a.k.a. Terminal Girl, and her mom, another from a Chinese patient), but mostly from many of you years ago.  I never reciprocated a single card (sorry!!), but I did keep them all.  Now preserved in coffin-shaped bins.

“What’s this?” Sun Su asked picking out a box with an intriguing maze design.

“Oh wow.  This is my electronic Dungeons & Dragons game.  You had to map this invisible maze to find the treasure while avoiding the dragon,” my excitement reversed polarity as I replaced the rusty 9-volt battery.  “The battery compartment is fried, it doesn’t work anymore.”

Sun Su used the wall pieces to form numbers and letters instead.

“Why is this here?” my little girl asked of the large table in the middle of the room.

“This used to be our old dining table.  I dusted it off and now we can play games on it, or draw, or study, or –”

“Or  pray to God,” she said while readjusting the witch hat that she was inexplicably wearing.  (It didn’t come from my room.)

“… Sure, that too.  Or we can just read in peace down here,” I finished.

“What’s peace?”

“Peace is … when everything is calm, and quiet … and just right.”

“Hmm,” she just smiled and rested her head.

Also, Happy Chuseok (Corean Thanksgiving)!