In all my 30+ years going to Comic-Con, this was by far the craziest trip ever. This year it was like an old pre-Hughes (John) teenage comedy. There's a party a teenager needs to get to and the adventure of planning and getting to the party is more important than the party itself. That was Comic-Con for me this year. Let me tell you just one of the crazy adventures I had.

On Sunday, after a intense and trying Saturday, I decided I had enough time that I could try again to salvage Comic-Con and spend more than two hours there. I got everything set and was dropped off at the Mexican border at 11am.

OK, side note: I stay in Tijuana when I go to San Diego because the cost is a whole lot better than in San Diego. I can splurge for a luxury suite which is slightly larger than my apartment living room, kitchen and dining room, which in San Diego during Comic-Con would be around $600-800 a night, for $75.

The line getting into the United States is long, but moving a bit fast. From my experience I figured I could be at the trolley station, on the other side of the border, by noon and at the latest be at the convention by 1pm. That would be three hours of convention time and I could make my plane.

I should have known from what happened Saturday things wouldn't go smooth.

The line was slightly slower than I thought, but I got into the International Border building at 12:15pm. I still had a shot of making it in good time. I got into a line that looked like it was fast, but I was so wrong. After what seemed like to me a few minutes, a couple just in front of me decided to move to the line to the right of me. My luck has always been with border lines is to stay in the one you initially pick. My luck has never been at line hopping because as soon as I do the one I get in turns out to be the slower one. So I'm now behind a lady with a small dog and we are about 15 people from the front of the line. After what I thought was 15 minutes I notice the couple that was in front of me and moved to the right are now one person away from the front of their line! Our line had 2 people go through. Well the couple behind me see this and they go to the right hand line. What I think is 10 minutes passes for them and now they are getting checked by the border security. Our line has gone through 5 people. A group of 5 young guys have had enough so they go to the left line.

Alright, so the question you might ask me is why didn't I move? Well, with all the people leaving the line, we were moving along slowly but moving. With the 5 who left I was 7 people away from the front of the line. I thought yep 5 maybe 10 more minutes and I would be through. I checked my watch and what I thought was 25 minutes of time passing turned out to be 45 minutes. It was 1pm but I didn't panic. I was so close and I knew by 2pm I would be at Comic-Con.

I watched the guard for our line help 2 people, which took an incredibly long time, then he left! Just got up and left his station. The other guards kept working on their lines while we sat and waited. I watched as those five people moved slowly past us, then they were out of the building. I have to back up just slightly. While the guys were slowly moving in the line on the right, another guard showed up in our lane. He talked to the guard on the left, saying the supervisor (who was manning the line we were in) went on a 'telephone break.' I could see by the rolled eye response of the guard on the right the supervisor was one of 'those' kind of supervisors, the ones who are coasting and doing the minimal amount of work but working everyone else hard to make himself look good. I thought for sure the new guard was going to work the line but he didn't. Once the guys who were originally in our line passed through the line on the left, the guard on the left started alternating with his line and our line.

Happiness filled my heart. We were moving slowly but we were moving. Four people had gone through in my line. There were three of us left. I checked my time again and it was 1:25pm. All I could think was, there was still time, there was still time. Yep, I wished too much. All of a sudden, the guard on the left kept his focus on his monitor. He waved to our line but the lady on the left hand lane didn't care and went up to the guard. He took her information and cleared her. He signaled to his line and the next person in his line to come up and they did. Just like before, he finished with that person with his head buried in the monitor and signaled for our line again. Just like before a person from his line came forward. The guy at the beginning of our line protested and the guard put the pieces together. He called out to the guard on the right of us, who was managing the line to the right of us, to take people from our line. The guard on the left helped the guy from our line so I'm now second in our line. There is only a lady with a dog in front of me.

Yep, it happens again. Apparently the guard on the right didn't hear, because he kept funneling people from his line and we waited. I think about five people went through the line and the dog barked. This caused the guard on the left to notice no one had moved from our line. He muttered something about being mad about not having a supervisor and he walked away from his line, went to the guard on the right and told him to get our people moving. Yes, after he finished with his person he waved for the woman with the dog to move to him.

I was feeling pretty good at this point. I was at the front of the line. I had one person in front from the other line then I would go, get checked and leave. I had been watching the guard on the right and he was taking at most 30 seconds to glance at paper work, as one or two questions then sent people through. I was in the home stretch; I was out of there soon, I just knew it.

I swear the next bit, as crazy as it sounds, REALLY happened.

The guard calls me to his station. I hand him my passport and he asks me where I'm heading. I tell him Phoenix. He gives me a suspicious look and asks me why am I crossing in Tijuana. I tell him I'm going to San Diego and catching a flight to Phoenix. He asks me why didn't I stay in San Diego. I told him I am attending Comic-Con and a hotel in San Diego near the convention center would cost $200 or more if I could get one and that paying $75 for a hotel there means more money for comics and stuff. The guard says yes but you have to wait in a long line. I say yes, but saving that much money and the trolley takes you to the front of the convention is worth it.

OK at this point I'm getting a bad vibe. He's asking a whole lot of questions and being in the line so long I have scene people being brought to a holding area in handcuffs. On cue I see a guard a few stations down handcuff a woman and walk her past us. I figure I should give this guy something to prove I'm telling the truth about the convention.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my badge. See, I'm going to the convention I say. He sees the writing that says PROFESSIONAL. Oh, your your a professional he says. So do you sell stuff, own a comic shop. I told him I have a website called Chaotic Fringe and that it is about current events and popular culture. So you write for them, he asks. I reach into my pocket and pull out one of the business cards I had for handing out at the convention. It says I'm the publisher and I point this out to him.

OK he says, then he says something that tells me this is going to take a lot longer than I want. He asks me what language to I program in. I can tell by the tone this isn't a 'hey friend, what do you program in' this is a 'I think your full of crap' question. At this point I am so happy I wasn't wearing my promotional T-shirt. Just to backtrack a little bit, on Saturday I wore the shirt I designed that had the I am not a cog in the corporate machine logo on it and on the shuttle heading to the airport a TSA guy thought it was the coolest thing he ever saw because it was a stick in the eye to Obama and his draconian policies. Yeah, not what the shirt is about but I figured on Sunday it was best not to have the shirt on going through the border. The guard was proving I did the right thing.

While I want to challenge the guard, I know I'm on the losing end of the stick so I decide to be a babbling font of information so I can get out of there. I told him I program in HTML. He asks me what version of HTML (again, I'm not making any of this stuff up) and I tell him it's version 5 and I use Dreamweaver CS5 as an assist. He asks if I use Flash and I say it's being phased out with version 5 and I since it's not being supported there's no reason to use it. He says Flash is terrible for mobile equipment and he doesn't understand why it's still out there. I took that as a hopeful statement because I figured I passed his test and I would be on my way. Nope. So what are you working on for Comic-Con? I told him I'm working on a documentary about the convention for the magazine. He looks at my backpack and I know where things are heading. A new line of questions. I decided to hit him with some more information. While I remove my backpack I tell him that I'm using a Canon T2i with a 50mm and a 18 by 75 mm lens. I said I left the telephoto at home because that seemed a bit much and I don't have an image stabilizer on it. By this point I have opened the bag, taken out the camera and I'm getting it set to show him pictures. This was a great shot I took when I was in the convention.

This is the funny twist to the story. I thought the first picture that was going to pop up was one I took of Adrienne Curry wearing a costume which showed ample cleavage, because that was the last I took on Saturday. I forgot I saw my friend Geoff at the convention and I told him how I was walking to the convention and I saw Walter E Jones having lunch. I asked nicely and he agreed for me to take a picture of him. For those of you who may not recognize the name, he played Zach Taylor, better known as the original Black Power Ranger from the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. The guard saw the picture and his eyes lit up. Zach Taylor, he said. He nodded and said cool. He said thank you, handed back my passport and I was free to leave.

What probably could have gone on for a much longer time was stopped by picture of a Power Ranger. Things still didn't turn out well. I got to the trolley stop and one trolley was leaving the station while another one was unloading. I had to wait 20 minutes before it left. I ended up spending an hour at the convention, not as long as I wanted but just like Saturday, I had to be happy with the fact I was there for a little while and considering the save by the Power Ranger, it was all good.

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A Comic-Con Hero Saved Me - July 16, 2012
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