Ruminations on the End of Summer, Comic Conventions and Autographs

It's Labor Day in the U.S., the "official" end of summer. (Okay, there's that whole Autumn Equinox thing a couple of weeks from now, but as paid holidays go, we're screwed until Thanksgiving.) My pumpkin patch has been wildly productive this year, but at least two of my largest gourds have rotted on the vine with some sort of nasty mold. I'm hoping to get at least a few survivors, after several years of huge vines producing nothing. (Welcome back, bees!)

I never got the call to be an extra on the Avengers movie. Bummer. But whilst driving past the set on the Megabus en route to Chicago, I caught a glimpse of filming. The thought that the Chrises (Evans and Hemsworth) were so close yet so far away was torturous. And yet, I survived.

When I got back from that trip to Wizard World's Chicago ComicCon a few weeks back, I intended to write a lengthy blog about my experiences at the con and visiting my friends Tammy & JR. Alas, "He who hesitates is lost," and I procrastinated long enough to no longer feel the urge to relive. Instead, I want to electronically ponder the phenomenon that is buying autographs from celebrities at such gatherings.

When I first started attending comic book conventions, media guests were few and far between. Occasionally, you'd see D-list actors from old TV shows, and you could pay them some nominal fee to sign a photo (usually one they provided) and/or have your photo taken with them.

Sci-fi conventions, on the other hand, often featured actors and actresses signing memorabilia or photos, most often for free. Long lines for Star Trek actors meant spending hours standing, then having a few precious seconds to blurt out your admiration while getting an action figure or model signed.

I have a wall of signed photos in my dining room. And not only photos of sci-fi and comics actors, but magazine covers from home improvement programs, signed posters of bands, and Playbills from performances where I patiently stood outside the stage door with a Sharpie and hope. I even have a signed photo of Ron Jeremy that reads, "To Tim, thanks for the nice words... I hope you get some lipstick on your dipstick."

In recent years, the practice has gotten more and more commercialized. The fees for standing in line and getting a signature have skyrocketed. Most of the time, I just sucked it up (love that cliche!) and paid the money. But an experience in Chicago may have changed that forever.

In preparation for my pilgrimage to the Windy City (actually Rosemont, but cut me some creative licensing slack here, willya?) I filled my Justice League backpack with books and comics and action figures to get signed. Several actors from Torchwood were on my agenda, as well as actors from The Guild, The Boondock Saints, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Firefly/Serenity. I also brought along hard sought-after bottles of an English cider drink named Strongbow I planned to present to the Welshmen on my list, since one of them expressed a preference for the drink on Twitter.

Most of the celebs were friendly enough. The routine goes like this: usually, you queue up, then when it is your 'turn", the celeb's "handler" takes your money and turns you over to the famous person, who greets you and asks if you want their photo personalized or just signed. Prices now range from $25-$50! Still, I brought plenty of cash to Chicago (they only take cash) and had my debit card when that ran out.

One of the celebs, a TV actor with guest roles on several science fiction series, looked at me after I paid my fee and complained that the line should have already been capped so the actors could leave. (This was well before the close of the show that day.) I actually didn't deplete this person's resources at all, just had her sign a book I brought myself. She was pissy and probably tired, but it permanently colored my perception of her.

Worse, one of the actors I most wanted to meet refused to interact with me at all. While I paid his handler, he turned away and drew graffiti on the poster behind him. The handler took my money and asked my name and then repeated it to the actor, who inscribed his photo and nearly forgot to sign his own name. When I asked if he would also sign a book I brought with me, his handler quickly asked for another $30, which I regretfully paid. After seeing this actor at a panel mention he had CD's for sale, I hurried to his table to get one, where a stack of the things sat with a handmade sign stating that CD's were $10, signed by the band for $20. I decided to get one signed, and the handler asked for $40 -- $10 for the CD, $30 for the signature. Again, like an idiot, I forked over my hard-earned cash. And again, the actor made minimal eye contact, spoke to me not at all and pushed the CD across the table, then turned away.

A friend of mine recently said that it is our support of their filmed projects that earn these people their real paychecks. Unlike the D-listers reliving their glory days, these folks don't depend on this kind of income. My friend rails at spending money for signatures, saying "they" should consider themselves lucky "they" get to meet, or have, fans at all.

I'm not that hardcore. I completely understand paying for a photo or comic if you didn't bring one. I think a more reasonable practice would be to charge something affordable, say a $10-$15 one-time fee, and then limit the number of signatures (i.e., three) for items a fan brings with them. But $25-$50 per signature? Do they really need to make $100 off a schmuck like me? I believe most celebs in current/ongoing promotions have their expenses (airfare, rooms, meals) compensated by the organizers of the convention. Why make so much profit off people who adore them?

In contrast, the comic creators in Artists Alley were delightful to talk to, signed whatever you gave them and genuinely seemed appreciative of the support fans gave their creative efforts. In Chicago, Patrick Gleason, to drop a name, not only signed my Blackest Night books, he was afraid one of his signatures wouldn't stand out enough and signed the book a second time, using a different color marker.

But because of the prices and the attitude, most of the items in my backpack returned to Akron unsigned. I think I'm done getting signatures from "media personalities." I will continue attending conventions, and enjoying my glimpses of the "famous" without directly interacting with them. It makes me sad.

And I will continue to buy and support good, well-written, expertly illustrated comic books. Because the creators of those project still show me they care about my support.

Oh, and I won't be hanging in my dining room the photo of the actor described above. I no longer consider myself a fan. I am, however, selling his action figure on eBay. For cheap.