A Close Encounter Of The Oddest Kind
Recently, the kids and I attended a ComiCon in Phoenix. I parked in a underground parking structure adjacent to the Phoenix Convention Center. Two of my three sons and my daughter and I climbed into an elevator donning images of super-heros and sci-fi franchises on our our respective T-shirts. We also had laniards that prominently displayed our show passes strung around our necks.
Phoenix ComiCon is huge.
Fans fly in from across the country to attend. It's on the news all weekend as local news people report on the costumes, the people and the events of this giant fan-fueled spectacle.
It was clearly evident we, like nearly 40,000 other people that weekend—if not in this elevator—were on our way to the city's biggest fan event of the year.
Anyway, as we boarded the elevator, an older gentleman, let's say in his early 70's, is on already. He takes a moment to look the four of us over, then asks a prophetic question.
"So, uhh, you guys like comic books?"