Through the Eyes of a Child

Last Sunday (July 29th) was officially “Kid’s Day” at Comic-Con International 2007 in San Diego, but children, from todllers to ‘tweens, could be seen throughout the four-day event, which had started out Sunday. And despite the huge crowds, including bouts of pandemonium over some appearances and displays, those children may have had the grandest time of all. For a few days, THIS was the happiest place on earth.

Comic-Con has become the world’s largest promo-fest for science fiction/fantasy/horror/adventure/and comic book-related films, TV shows, video games, gaming cards, toys, collectibles, graphic novels, and comics, of course. Fanboys and fangirls of all ages can revel in their favorite characters, but the truest awe comes in the smiles and wide eyes of those children, like my son, almost five years old (yeah, it gets personal here).

Though my little boy’s first Comic-Con was last year when he was just weeks shy of four, the dazzle and amazement truly sunk in this year. Along with other little ones, he played at the Lego booth on the tables of tiny pieces and said a polite thank you when a Star Wars Imperial Stormtrooper handed him a tiny, gold sample C3PO, and he wouldn’t let it go for most of that day.

Then there was a parade of costumed folks: Daddy, look! There’s Captain America. Wolverine. Superman. Wonder Woman. Batman. Robin. The Question and Huntress (He knows his Justice League Unlimited), Jedis, Jango Fett, Boba Fett, crusty-looking pirates, Ghostbusters. A life-size R2D2, remote-controlled by his owner a few feet behind him, motored about the floor. “It’s okay, you can touch him,” he said. “He likes hugs.” And R2 got them, from several children.

During the long weekend, we were back again and again at the Transformer toy displays (this is THE year of that, can there be any doubt?). He studied a history of Power Ranger helmets, and he took multiple walks (or stroller rides) through a Pirates of the Caribbean “cave” filled with production shots and original costumes, to get Davy Jones guitar picks (should they have been Keith Richards?) and skull-and-crossbones bandanas.

Oh yes, all those giveaways. Comics. Postcards. Buttons. Those Minimates handouts to a crush of bodies at DC Direct (collect them all–we still need a Booster Gold/Blue Beetle. Anyone?). Spidey and Avengers posters from the folks at DK (whose publishing includes guides for everything from Transformers to most major super-heroes, Star Wars and more).

Like most children his age, usually impatient when it comes to lines, once he learned you get “stuff,” he was ready to wait; like the Cartoon Network booth, tossing a bean bag over his head to win a cool messenger tote. And waiting to meet not just Power Rangers, but his favorites–the red and blue? No problem. The same went for the line to meet Gene Simmons and his son Nick and get a signed copy of their new comic. My son discovered KISS through an episode of Scooby Doo, and proudly told the rock legend his favorite song by the band was “I want to rock and roll all nite and party every day.” Simmons appeared impressed.

Let’s not forget those toys by the ton. It’s hard to say “no” with all that enthusiasm, though kids don’t understand why you can’t buy them a $25, $35 collector’s, out-of-circulation action figure, or a 20-year-plus Transformers character, mint-in-the-box, now $300. So you walk the packed toy aisles over and over, looking for the deals, which, of course, came by Saturday and Sunday, but only for some toys, though certainly more than enough are needed in our home, already the “house of action figures.”

And let’s hear it for those toy and comics dealers at both ends of the massive convention floor, with the giant companies like WB, Fox, Sony, Paramount, Marvel, DC and so on in the middle. Those sellers, mostly mom and pop operations, or small businesses at best, would knock off a few dollars for any child who wanted something. That spoke volumes about the real heart of Comic-Con, going back to its humble beginnings more than three decades ago, and even in modest gatherings of just a few thousand at the historic El Cortez Hotel. It’s really not about all the mega-hype and sell, but the wonder and magic that makes a little boy or girl’s eyes light up as they squeal with delight because they just met their hero. And that brings out the kid in all of us.