Specifically, this week, for the San Diego Comic Con International. It's been years, but I haven't made the time. Not for lack of want, it's just time and money factors. I lose a week's worth of work, plus it's a financially-indulgent trip for me and Karen with the hotels and other travel expenses (plus, you can't go without buying lots of cool stuff!).

   Every year, my pal Dusty Abell calls to inquire if I'm coming, and I hate telling him no, because we always have a great time together when we're there. We were a pretty good pencil & ink team for a few years before he entered the more stable field of animation. You can see his work in this website's 'Rarities' section devoted to some obscure covers we did.

   San Diego has the most perfect weather: it's official! There was a study some years ago that concluded that San Diego had the best year-round weather in the country, usually 72 degrees with no humidity. Perfect. It's always a joy to leave the wet armpit of southeast summer for a climate that immediately elevates your mood, even if the flight was crappy.

   1995 was the first year I'd gone to the SDCC (not to be confused with the CDC in Atlanta), just shortly after I had broken in as an inker. I had just started inking over Chuck Wojtkiewicz when Justice League America was running on fumes with second-stringer characters like Nuklon and the Yazz. Then, with the Grant Morrison revolution, the title was simplified to JLA, and sales skyrocketed. I was invited back years later when penciller Howard Porter settled on a slightly lesser version of John Dell, me! On a side note, I noticed the latest sales chart show JLA #100, still going strong in the # 17 spot, which is great, considering it's a double-sized issue.

   The San Diego con is like the Superbowl of comic conventions. The sheer enormity is awe-inspiring, the roster of guests, very diverse. On our first day, my wife Karen pointed out Mickey Spillane, world-famous author of the Mike Hammer novels, casually breezing around the floor, while we stood in line for our pro badges (my first free pro badge! One plus guest!). There's a lot of west coast and international talent at SDCC you won't find in other shows. I've had the pleasure of briefly conversing with Sergio Aragones, Alan Davis, Mark Farmer and the late great Gil Kane, who was a gentleman in the old school way. Well groomed and wearing a casual suit, looking quite dapper and he spoke in such humble, measured tones that made you admire him even more. When I meet such greats, I never assume to be on the same level as them. I know my place. I'm a plucky Pittsburgh punk who squeaked into the biz when no one was looking.

   That year, the DC booth was the place to be. DC had a giant grouping of monitors that collectively showed one large picture. On these TVs were a variety of Warner Brother properties, Pinky and the Brain, Batman The Animated Series, Bugs Bunny and the cooooool animated video for the third Batman movie, Batman Forever, with the song "Kiss Me, Kill Me" performed by U2. These same clips played all week in a continuous loop, but I had to stop every time the U2 song came on with that infectious thump-chop rhythm. It'll forever be my San Diego song.

   At the DC booth were signs clearly stating the designated times and places for portfolio reviews. I threaded my way through the crowd at one of the tables of editors. One editor wore a badge declaring he was Brian Augustyn, who happened to be my brand-new editor (I had an EDITOR now!) on Justice League America. Brian was very busy fielding questions, so I patiently waited my turn and blurted out "Mr. Augustyn, could you please take a look at my inks?" He began pointing out the posted portfolio review sign when I dropped a copy of Justice League America #103 (my first issue) on his table. He looked down, then shot a glance at my badge, and said: "Why, you smartass!" with that wide grin of his. We got to exchange pleasantries briefly, but promised to talk more when he was done with his 'shift'.

   1996 was a great year as well. By then, I had gotten to know Mike Carlin fairly well, while inking the 200-page Superman/Wonder Woman Elseworlds. In five months. Mike took me and Dusty, our ladies and several other freelancers to dinner one night. As we walked restaurant row, Mike grabs the arm of someone walking past-Frank Miller! I was wide-eyed as a fanboy could be. They discussed a project that Frank insisted Mike would never let him write, which Mike said "Try me." That was pretty much the entire exchange before Frank crossed the street. I'll never know what the project was. It doesn't matter. Moments like that mattered.

   Karen and I have lots of fond memories of San Diego. While I hung out at the con, she'd check out the antique shops. One evening, we got really hammered on 27-oz mugs of strong margaritas one night, and were so legless, we needed a cab to take us only a few blocks to our hotel.

   Perhaps the greatest highlight of any of my San Diego trips was not comic book related. We went for dinner in the Little Italy area, a bit out of the way, but worth it. You see, I was having Italian food withdrawal and heard of some recommended restaurants there. On a Friday, we found a great place with great food, giant meatballs, and an impromptu floor show: Two gentlemen sat at a table with a bottle of wine before each of them, taking turns standing to sing pitch-perfect Italian opera! There was a third performer who played piano and joined in occasionally. BUT. But there was an incredible moment where one of the two singers, a very tall, bald, barrel-chested Italian stormed around the room working the patrons into a frenzy with a heartbreaking song from Pagliacci. As he reached a crescendo, tears streamed through his tightly-clenched eyes. He had been oblivious of everybody in the room for some time, not due to alcohol, but passion. It remains one of the most chilling experiences I will ever know. They were not paid for this performance. They were locals who lived nearby and did this routinely, I was told. I wanted to move there the next day to live out my days eagerly awaiting spontaneous Italian Opera while devouring ravioli.

   1998 was my last trip. It was there that Dusty, Matt Smith and I were planning on forming a studio with Tony Harris, Ray Snyder and Jim Royal. It turned out that I was the only one who physically moved into the studio, although Dusty was involved with Tony and Ray's project, the DC miniseries Lazarus 5, which Jim inked, as I had moved on to inking Greg Land on Birds of Prey.

   Much as I loved the San Diego Con, the newness was wearing off, so we decided to wait a few years. We spent a lot of money back then because I was a cranking hack machine back then, pinch-hitting when other books needed help, doing almost two monthly books work of material. The only inker I've ever witnessed work so fast with no lapse in quality has been Mike Perkins. Nowadays, a monthly comic and some private commissions are all I can manage. I no longer have the need to work myself to death out of pride or greed. I can now look back and say "Hey, I've done a lot of cool work". These days, I strive more for quality, not quantity.

   As for San Diego, maybe next year...