THIS HAS GOTTA BE AN OMEN
Mid-Ohio-Con weekend is probably my favorite of the year. I get to go to, bar none, the greatest comic convention I've ever been to. Roger Price runs a great show: great guests, super mega ultra professional staff, nice accomodations, and I get to spend the weekend making money playing caricature boy, while hanging out with a bunch of too-rarely seen friends, a bunch of comics pros, and geeking out by buying toys and making obscure references to the Seven Soldiers of Victory.

Having said that, it started out badly.

The day after Thanksgiving, I went to the bank to get some singles. About a hundred of them. I have to make change at the highly-successful "Get a caricature of you as your favorite comics character" booth. So I went to my friendly neighborhood bank and asked the cute little tellerette to give me some singles from my corporate account.

"I can't do that," she said. "We don't have any."

Now years of listening to loud James Taylor music could have damaged my hearing so I said, "Excuse me?"

"We don't have any singles, sir."

I looked around, checking to see that I had indeed entered a bank and not a police station.

"You don't have any singles?"

"No, sir. No singles."

This was quickly becoming a metaphor for my love life.

"Wednesday," she continued, "all the area merchants came in and drained us."

So I was left to find another bank. Fortunately there was another branch. At the mall.

And that's a story I'm still not ready to talk about.

STILL ANOTHER DRINKING SONG

So I made the drive down to Columbus, a two and a half hour jaunt which really isn't that bad. Books on tape and talk radio really speed up those solo drives.

I hooked up with Paul Storrie, up-and-coming comics writer, now with a DC credit under his belt now. (Yay, Paul!) And then with Sean McKeever, who is writer on the excellent "The Waiting Place" and co-writer on an upcoming issue of The Hulk.

There's a bar there named Fado's, an Irish pub. It's the closest I've come to a place that replicates the feel of pubs in Ireland.

Along with us was the highly talented Paul Jenkins. He's a friend of both the Sequential Tarts as well as McKeever. We've met once or twice before, but this time out, I got to go to share a Guiness or three with him.

Paul is writer of Witchblade, Spider-Man, Sentry, and the Hulk, and has probably picked up a couple more as I type this sentence. He also at one time wrote Hellblazer and the Inhumans miniseries, two of my personal favorites.

And I got to collaborate on an issue of Witchblade with him. Y'see, Paul finds my insights witty and incisive... and he needed to borrow my iBook to pull his e-mail to work on an emergency Witchblade story. Yeah, technically that's not co-writing the story, but that's closer than you've gotten, isn't it?

I'M NUMBER TWO

Of course, one of the highlights of the show was going to be the whole "Second Sexiest Man in Comics" thing. On the Sequential Tart message board, a topic got started about who the Second Sexiest Man in Comics is. (Who's number one, I dunno. But anyone can be number one. Coming in second, that takes effort.) Names got tossed about, and Mike Norton and I became the front runners.

Our competition was, as you can see by the photo, completelly civil. Oh sure, I may have tossed some witty barb about tearing his head off, stuffing his lifeless corpse with foam pellets and use it as a hanging bag for my kickboxing routine. But really nothing you don't hear on your average Presidential debate. So, as most superheroes do, we met, and we fought...

...then we decided to team up. After all, it's a big planet and he and I, we're only two people. There's a lot of sexy for us to spread around, and instead of fighting, we decided to share the responsibilities of being the Second Sexiest.

As Superman once said to Lois, "I can't belong to one woman-- I must belong to the world."

 

I AM THE BRUTE SQUAD

The Laughing Ogre throws a big bash the Friday before the show, and invites guests of the show. They even run a shuttle service so that those of us who decide to imbibe adult beverages don't have to drive there. Darryn throws a great party. Food, drink, music, and of course, a ton of comic book people. Both the Stellar Luminaries of the business and people like me.

But it is, as always, a great time to get together and talk comics as well as careers and life. Strangely, those three things are the same to me.

 

THE HOST WITH THE MOST

The second Second Sexiest Man and I were tapped by the Sequential Tarts to host their panel. For the most part, this meant staying out of their way and letting them run the show. (See, I'm already broken in. I'll make someone a great husband.) Mike and I flanked them, looking as much like Secret Service protection as the spokesmodels we were.

And I did tell them that I wouldn't have hesitated to throw Mike in front of a bullet for them. Hey, sometimes I'm a manager, and I know how to delegate.

The Tarts, as always, supplied their opinions on comics and the industry in general. They've got a killer website, check it out at: www.sequentialtart.com.

I'LL TAKE MY WAID ROAST WELL DONE

One of my many duties, along with being Second Sexiest Man and Free Floating Agent of Order and Goodness, I'm also the Roastmaster-designate for all roasts at Mid-Ohio-Con. It all started when we roasted Tony Isabella. Fortunately, Tony is the metaphorical broad side of a barn to those of us who are shooting jokes. It was easy to roast him.

Based on that cake walk, though, I've been elected the Dean Martin of those little shindigs... if Dean Martin could name all seven original members of the Justice League. (Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Flash, Aquaman and the Martian Manhunter, no matter what current DC continuity is.) And this time out, we got to roast Mark Waid, talented writer of the Flash, Justice League, and Kingdom Come.
Mark's one of my heroes, in terms of writing. How could I attack my hero with the slings and arrows of pointed roast jokes?

Apparently very well.

I, of course, don't do these roasts alone. My vast, vast ego is not quite that vast. Mark was roasted by his "friends" Tony Isabella, Roger Stern, Janet Hetherington, Greg Land, Todd Dezago and Paul Storrie. Everybody was on. In fact, I think this was our best roast ever.

Highlights include:

Janet pulled our Ross Perot-esque charts to explain Mark's mind, such as it is. Check out the attached photo. And she told us about the Mark Waid fan club, called the Hip Waiders. Tee hee, Hip Waiders.

Roger Stern congratulated Mark Waid on being the only person to write Legion of Super Heroes and still have a career. And he reminded Mark that he had more hair.

Tony found the Earth-Two Mark Waid (actually, a fan at the show who bears an uncanny resemblance to Waid) and re-united them.

Greg Land had only one story, but what a story it was. Mark really wanted to open a bottle of wine and had no corkscrew. He finally escalated to a power drill to get at the wine.

Paul talked about how sleeping with Mark doesn't get you work at DC, and to prove it, pulled out an exquisitely lettered T-shirt that read "I slept with Mark Waid and all I got was this stupid T-shirt."

By far, the funniest was Todd Dezago, who brought out a Mark Waid hand puppet, and proceeded to attempt to lounge sing "Volaire" while drinking a glass of water. Thankfully, Todd didn't choke.

And what did I say? I first told people that there was a programming change, and that we had replaced Mark Waid with Rob Leifeld. Ah Rob... if you can't use Tony, use Rob.

I've also seen Mark, through sheer power of his geekiness, tell you who the guest was in the Batman team-up book Brave and the Bold, just by getting the number. It's kind of like Rain Man.

So I found some of my copies of Brave and the Bold, brought them, and made him perform. The problem was, he was a little rusty. Besides, as Mark said "Those issues you have are from the late seventies. That's your childhood, not mine. I had discovered girls by then."

"I was four," I responded.

HANGING OUT... DOWN THE STREET

My favorite part about Mid-Ohio is, as always, the After Con activities. Many of which involve alcohol. And fortunately, Mid-Ohio now takes place at Easton Town Center... a mall-slash-city full of Cheesecake Factories, Virgin Megastores, a bunch of stores... and GameWorks. A bunch of cool video games, pool, movies, and the aforementioned alcohol. The greatest thing about these places is that after ten, they clear out the kids and let the adults (well, arrested development poster children) run the joint.

Unfortunately, my Barry Allen metabolism kicked in and there was no buzz for me. But the company was certainly stimulating enough.

Jim, artist and writer on Shades of Blue and I defended America against the Imperialistic agressions of Brit Paul Jenkins and his friend. We gave him enough rope to hang himself, letting him scratch on the eight ball. Jim and I celebrated with a manly chest bump. Unfortunately, I'm a little bigger than Jim. But I'm told he'll walk again. Jim also did a caricature of me.

There was singing, a little bit of dancing (Not by me, of course. That'd violate General Order Number Three.) and a lot of game playing.

FREE FLOATING AGENT OF ORDER AND GOODNESS

I had to keep up my credentials as Free Floating Agent of Order and Goodness. In my travels I met two graphic artists-in-training. One was Amity, at the excellent Fado's Irish pub. The other was the bartender at the Hilton. I'm sorry, I can't remember your name, dude, but you weren't as cute as Amity.

I made sure both of them had my business card and a promise from me to give them as much advice and counseling as they could stomach. And a guided tour of my Markell Company office.

And if you're reading this (and, Lord, I hope you are) and you know an artist or artist-in-training who could benefit from talking to someone in the field, e-mail me or give me a call. I've said it before, I'll say it again. I never knew a working artist when I was growing up, and as such, I'm almost pathalogical about providing whatever help I can to those foolis... er, inspired enough to choose this field.

NOT A BAD START...

Sunday night a small pack of us, and by small I mean eleven... thirteen if you count me and Mike Norton twice... went out to a post-con dinner. The conversation ranged from the Tallyhassle, Florida recount to the state of what's left of our industry, to the place of Arm Fall-off Boy in the DC Universe. (Yes, there is an Arm Fall-Off Boy. He tried out for the Legion. I love that guy. "Die, villian!" And then he'd use his fallen arm as a club.)

Some of us were staying another night at the hotel, and some of us had to leave for their respective homes. We made plans to meet up later that night.

...BUT WHAT A FINISH

Then things got weird.
There was a fairly exclusive Con Party for the workers and special guests. I design all of Roger's advertising for the show, so I get to skate on those kind of things. So I wound up at the Con Party, just for a little while, I said.
I got into the room, along with buddy Paul Storrie, and looked around. I saw a bunch of the World's Greatest Con Crew I know so well.
And John Byrne.
And Tom Palmer.
And Sergio Aragones.
And Yvonne Craig.
And June Lockhart.
And Jon Provost with wife Laurie Jacobson.
And Bill Mumy.
It was cool.

I talked with just about everybody. Bill Mumy actually remembered me from when we met at the Superman Expo twelve years ago. Of course, I was the one in the giant foam rubber Optimus Prime costume, so I did kind of stick out.

Con Crew Friends Gary Hermann and his lovely wife had asked for me to do a caricature of them and hadn't had a chance all weekend. Con Daddy Roger Price asked me if I'd get my easel.

Sometimes I can't tell when Roger is kidding. "You want to get my Caricature Stuff, because I will? Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I think it'd be cool."

Minutes later, I was playing Caricature Boy again, drawing the Hermanns. And then I drew another Conster. There wasn't really anyone else interested, so I went back to one of the conversations, this one being June Lockhart and opinions on the Election Fiasco.

A little while passed, and Roger came up to me and said in that smooth professional voice over voice he's got: "We have a request for another caricature."

"Sure, who?"

"Jon and Laurie."

Jon played Timmy on Lassie. His wife Laurie is a Hollywood Historian. They're a lovely fun couple, and I loved drawing them.

Time out for a wacky factoid: When Lassie ended, Jon started playing the paperboy on Mr. Ed. There were lines in the show where characters would say "My dog is smarter than you, kid." Who knew Mr. Ed had subtext?
I went back to the conversation again, this one being about Shaun Cassidy taking Bill Mumy to buy a bullet-proof vest when Bill had a stalker type of guy.

Roger snuck up on me again. "Another request, Thom."

I got up. "Sure, Rog. Who?"

"Ah, a Mr. Sergio Aragones."

I almost had to sit down again. Sergio is the artist on those little Mad Magazine margin cartoons, as well as a million other things. He's been the keynote speaker at the National Caricaturists Network. And I haven't. Talk about pressure.

So I did a neat little caricature of him and he accepted it gladly. I've met Sergio a couple of times, and he's still trying to fix me up with his daughter. I can't figure out how to ask to see a picture of her. No offense, but I'm not going to fly all the way to California on a blind date.

However, if we ever did get together... I'm taking her name. I rejoined the conversation, this one an account of how Harlan, in defending another Lost in Space member from a stalker, scared the creep so much he left the state.

Roger appeared again.

"Another request, Thom. Tom Palmer..."

"Tell him to meet me at my chair."

"No, no, Thom. Tom Palmer wants to draw you."

Tom Palmer, inker over Neal Adams and John Byrne, wanted to draw me. How can you say "No?"

As evidenced by the twenty minute drawing elsewhere on this page, I didn't. Tom is an endlessly fascinating converstationalist, telling all sorts of cool stories and showing his fast knowledge of the field. He just spells his name funny. Tom's drawing was a portrait. Sitting for it was excruciating. I don't know how people manage to do it when I draw them. Of course, since I'm a caricaturist, I can go a little faster.

I reciprocated and drew Tom. Tom then decided he needed to draw Roger, which he did. And then he decided that he and I should both draw John Byrne.

There are a lot of stories about John. To be honest, i think he's one of the most misunderstood guys in comics. He's a nice guy, but with a frequently misread dry, dry wit. But you still hear these stories, and they're in your mind. Especially when you're drawing a caricature of him.

The Caricature Gods must have been smiling on me. I did my best caricature of the weekend. To be honest, by the time I was done, Ihe looked a little bit like The Brain, of Pinky And The.

Then John sat down at my easel and drew Roger as well! John told us that he had actually done caricatures for a year when he was first getting started.

Hah! I'm on the path to drawing X-Men, yes I am.

Then we all just sat around and referenced Simpsons episodes.No, I'm serious. It was great fun.

 

HOW YOU CAN HAVE THIS MUCH FUN

Now, you're probably reading this saying, "Thom, aside from the whole Faustian deal where you gave up any sort of dating life for a highly successful art career, your convention experiences sound incredible. How can I have such an experience?"

Step one, go to Mid-Ohio-Con. There's a spiffy website you can check out. It's always Thanksgiving Weekend, and will be at the Hilton Easton again.

Step two, get to know me. Weird stuff seems to happen around me. You can only benefit from being within my sphere of weirdness.

Step three, buy me adult beverages. I don't know that this will help, but it certainly can't hurt. Well, not me, at least.