That was a helluva day.

ESCAPE FROM MINNEAPOLIS

On Wednesday night, both Cajones and I had a Trivia Contest meeting that ran to midnight. We were both crunched for time after that, so we had one hell of a morning. While I decided I'd be best after a short nap, Cajones simply worked through the night, until we had to leave for the airport at 5 AM.

I, on the other hand, woke up at 3 AM, and worked at high speed for the next two hours. I packed, fed the bird, showered, and finished a piece of Femme Noir art that was needed ASAP. I finished right at 5 AM, and we dashed out the door.

Cajones fed me the last of my carrot cake while I was driving to the airport. Safe? Not entirely. Delicious? Oh yes.

MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS

Once we got through security at the Lindbergh Terminal of the airport (it took a while), we had only a few minutes of waiting. We soon boarded a tiny plane bound for St. Louis. (It was only slightly too big to be called a puddle jumper. I decided it was more like a pond jumper.)

The flight to St. Louis was fine, especially since I think both Cajones and I got a good amount of much-needed sleep during the flight. We both woke up slightly before landing, were treated to quite the landing experience. It's been a long time since I've experienced a plane going sideways along its trajectory, but the air was turbulent, and this tiny plane was being pretty well buffeted in the air. It was a tad disconcerting. Not frightening, but very odd.

Sadly, I did not see the St. Louis Arch from the air. I missed it on takeoff, too.

Once off the plane, Cajones and I had an hour or so to kill before our connection. Cajones was extremely groggy, but I was able to convince him that we needed breakfast. We managed to nab mediocre sustenance at a Chilis Too in the terminal. It was there that I had the singular experience of having a plastic bottle of ketchup literally crumble in my hands -- the side split open. It was surprisingly unmessy, but it was weird. Other than that, the breakfast was singularly unthrilling.

To kill a few more minutes after our breakfast, Cajones and I browsed a souvenir shop. My god, even their souvenirs are bland. I did, however, find a child's lip gloss container that looked like a cell phone. "WIRELESS LIP GLOSS!" touted the cosmetic's label. Finally! Lip gloss that I can use while untethered to a ethernet cable!

Yup, that's about as thrilling as things got in St. Louis.

THUNDERSTRUCK

We soon boarded the plane to La Guardia. It was a slightly larger plane, and afforded decent napping space. Well, for an airplane, anyway.

Midway through the flight, while both Cajones and I both happened to be awake, a rather strange thing happened. There was a loud "POP!" and a flash of light. When I say loud, I mean I felt the floor vibrate from the noise. The passengers were immediately a-chatter, because it really did sound like something hit the plane in mid-flight. The plane kept flying normally, though, so there really wasn't any alarm. Just intense curiosity.

A few minutes later, the pilot came on the speaker.

"Hey folks. I'm sure you all noticed something that sounded like a small explosion outside the plane. It looks like we were struck by lightning. It just passed through the plane on its way down. The plane is flying normally, and there is nothing to worry about."

Wow!

Cajones and I later agreed that that "POP!" is exactly the noise Ambush Bug would make when he dematerializes.

We landed at La Guardia without further incident, and thus got to see a rain-soaked NYC from the air. The density of this city is astounding.

THE NEW YORKER

Outside the airport, we snagged a cab to our hotel: The New Yorker, which sits in the middle of Manhattan on 8th Avenue. (It's one block from Madison Square Garden, and three from the Empire State Building. That's what I mean when I say "middle of Manhattan".) We then got the singular experience of riding with a New York cabbie through midday traffic. He even pulled a Hail Mary (he turned across a lane of traffic that was going straight.) Despite the congestion and the crazy driving, it didn't take long to get to our hotel.

INTERLUDE: INSTANT FAME

Cajones and I walked straight up to the desk of the hotel and started to check in. When asked his name by the desk clerk, Cajones naturally said, "Christopher Jones."

The man checking in to our right suddenly turned to us and said, "Batman Strikes, right?"

Whoa.

"And Dr. Blink, Superhero Shrink!!" he said.

Double whoa.

He introduced himself as Chuck Satterlee, the guy who does Smoke and Mirror for Markosia, among other things. This is where I said, "Hey, I know Smoke and Mirror! I traded a couple copies of Dr. Blink for the first couple issues."

And Chuck said, "Hey, that was me! That must have been at MCBA!"

"Yeah!"

Crazy.

After we all checked in, a couple minutes of chatting was had. Chuck had a five-year-old kid who was nuts over the Batman Strikes, and he wound up asking Cajones for a sketch. Business cards were exchanged, and we all departed to our rooms.

THE NEW YORKER, PART II

Soon, we were on the 24th floor of the hotel, seeking out our room. It was here that we got a real sense of what this place is like. Slightly run down, built in the 40's or 50's, with tiny rooms and hallways. It's at least clean, but the management somehow made the ill decision of installing white marbled baseboards in the halls. Instead of looking classy in the dim light, they just look like white baseboards with dirty scuffs.

Our room is tiny (barely larger than the bed), but we have a spectacular view of New York architecture from our window, including one of those oh-so-Frank-Miller rooftop water tanks. Cajones immediately ran to the window and started pointing out which nooks and crannies of which Batman would be fond.

While the room was clean and inviting despite its diminutive size, we had no time to lose! We quickly changed clothes, called Nachie Castro's voicemail, and dashed back out the door to visit DC Comics.

THE MAD HOUSE

After a crash course in NYC cab hailing, Cajones and I were soon riding through the rain to 1700 West Broadway, a location right across the street from The Late Show studios. Surprisingly, it wasn't too terribly far from the hotel -- a couple miles at most. It looked further away on Google Maps.

Soon, Cajones and I were in the lobby of the DC Comics building, headed for the 6th floor (editorial). We still hadn't gotten hold of Nachie in person, so we were playing it by ear.

The doors of the elevator opened to reveal a huge mural of DC superheroes, each drawn by a different artist. Cajones and I oggled this piece of art for a while before we realized that we were at a dead end. The doors to DC Editorial were naturally key locked, and there was no reception desk.

Thus, we rode the elevators up to 7th floor, where we found a secretary sitting underneath a life-sized sculpture of Superman. While she called around the editorial offices looking for Nachie, I inspected a small museum case holding a chunk of green crystal.

She didn't find Nachie, but she did find Michael Wright, the Promotions editor who hired Cajones for the Batman/Cal Ripken gig. Michael soon dashed out of a door and escorted us into his office.

(All through this experience, I was awed by how much Wright looks like TheSeamster. Astonishing.)

The next hour or so was spent in Michael's office, just shooting the breeze. We chatted about the business and artists we liked and coloring and printers and stuff. We got to see the colors for the Cal Ripken thing (actually very well done). We handed off a copy of Dr. Blink to Michael. He let us pick anything we wanted out of a giant tower of trade paperbacks. He even mentioned that he and Nachie were in a band, and Cajones scored a promo CD of their music. (Blackmail material! SCORE!) We even discussed his box of Quisp, proudly displayed on his desk.

Perhaps the greatest moment happened right before we walked out the door.

"Hey, Cajones, you need one of these. I can't give this one to you because it's a prototype. But you need one."

The object he handed us was an Exacto knife, which was taped to a plastic fork. The whole assembly was wrapped with a Post-It note, inscribed with the legend "NACHIE KILLING STICK".

Heh!

We never did meet up with Nachie, but our chat with Michael was grand.

On the elevator ride back down to street level, we noted that 4th floor was labeled MAD. Oh god! The home of MAD Magazine! That's when I got struck by where we were. We didn't stop, but it was nice to know that I was in the same building with the final vestige of EC Comics.

DINNER, WITH A CAMEO APPEARANCE

Once outside of the DC offices, Cajones and I noted that the rain had stopped, and it was actually pretty pleasant outside. I'd recalled enough from our cab right to remember how to get back to the hotel, so we just started walking.

With huge smiles on our faces, we walked through about 20 blocks of Broadway lights, theaters, unique restaurants, and buildings with character. We were slowly getting hungrier, and decided that we'd step into the first restaurant that really looked interesting.

We were literally right next to our hotel when we noticed a tiny hole-in-the-wall Italian joint that looked great. We stepped in and were immediately greeted by very attentive men in black vests and white shirts.

The food was not only excellent, but it was also decently priced. The noodles themselves had a lot of character, and the sauces were great. The desserts were the best, though. Cajones enjoyed tartufo, while I wound up with ricotta-flavored ice cream, topped with carmelized almonds and honey. Oh, yum!

Cajones and I were in the process of enjoying these delicious deserts when we both noticed a GIANT man walk into the restaurant alone. He literally looked like he should have been cast in a Mafia flick as Thug #1. We're talking six-and-a-half feet tall and four feet wide at the shoulders, with slicked black hair and a well-cut black suit. The man was ginormous. He promptly went to the bar and started enjoying a beer alone.

Cajones turned to me. "My god, that's Jim Shooter."

I just about doubled over laughing. Cajones has a weird ability to recognize editors, and it bowls me over every time.

The next few minutes were spent plotting. Finally, Cajones asked our waiter to let us buy Jim Shooter another round of whatever he was drinking. The waiter seemed slightly confused about this request, but he made it happen seamlessly.

A few minutes later, the giant at the bar started looking around in our direction. The waiter came over and told us he was looking for us. I nudged Cajones to go over and talk to him.

I enjoyed the rest of my ice cream while the two talked at the bar. It was fun to watch.

I got the full story when Cajones came back. Cajones had apparently told Jim about the one other time that the two had met. Many years ago, Cajones was at a convention, and found out mid-convention that Jim Shooter was there doing a signing. He immediately ran to a comics dealer and rummaged through the back issues for an old copy of Legion of Superheroes. Then he went to Jim's table.

Jim had been signing comics mechanically all afternoon, not really chatting with people, just signing stuff. When Cajones walked up and handed over the comic, Jim stopped what he was doing and just took a moment to smile and page through the comic. Then he signed it and hand it back. Cajones, unbeknownst to him at the time, had managed to pick up the first issue of Legion that Jim had ever done.

So here they were, many years later, chatting about Legion.

Cajones got some insider news from Jim, too. Heh.

Cajones and I soon finished our deserts while Jim finished his second drink at the bar. Before he left, he came to our table and thanked us again. That's when I met him. He seemed to be quite genial.

NAP TIME!

After our delicious and surprising dinner, Cajones and I retired to our hotel room for a while. We slept for a couple hours. Woo!

THE 86th FLOOR

Around 9 PM, we learned that the Empire State Building observation decks were open until 2 AM. It was also only three blocks away, so we thought this would be an excellent way to cap our evening.

Thus, we walked past Macy's, all the while oggling the brightly-lit spire ahead of us. We were soon inside the marble lobby, walking past genial ushers placed every 30 feet along our route through the building. Judging from the forest of rope-and-stanchion set up in the lobby, the place must be a zoo during the day. But at 9 PM on a Thursday, we simply breezed our way right up to the ticket booth.

Soon, we were on the 86th floor. Sadly, we found no Doc Savage, only a spectacular observation deck, an ocean of souvenirs, and a preoccupation with giant monkeys.

Cajones and I spent a good hour walking around outside, taking in the panoramic nighttime skyline of New York City. If you're in NYC with an hour to spare, definitely visit the Empire State Building. If at all possible, do it at night. It's downright spectacular.

It was also blisteringly windy and cold, but oh well. It was kind of fun hanging out in the gift shop for a while, watching wide-eyed shivering tourists dash back inside.

It started snowing while we were up there. That was pretty cool, too.

After paying our souvenir tariff, we headed back down to the street level. Hellziggy will be getting an impressively glam postcard out of this.

COMICS EVERYWHERE!

We decided to walk back to our hotel on a different street, just to get some different scenery on the way back. We weren't even a block away from the Empire State Building before we found a comic shop. And it was open until 11 PM!

So we ducked inside. It was impressively dense with comics, about on par with The Source in St. Paul. We didn't find anything in there that we couldn't live without, but we did have the pleasant experience of seeing the Dr. Blink trade on the shelves there. Woohoo!

LATE NIGHT DINING

After we made our way past Madison Square Garden, we decided to hit a diner before going back to our hotel room for the night. We chose the Tick Tock Diner, which was right next door to the hotel.

As we got seated, we heard from the next table, "Boy, that Batman Strikes book is terrible. I have no clue why they give that guy work. What a hack!"

Sure enough, Chuck Satterlee was sitting at the next table, with a bunch of Markosia cohorts. Thus, we joined the larger party and had a delightful time chatting with everyone.

Midway through our dinners, Chuck was joking about having a homosexual relationship with the comics cohort sitting next to him. Cajones then said, "Well, that sure gives a new meaning to back-end money."

This slew Chuck. I mean that literally. He began that sort of silent laughter you see when people are laughing so hard they can't breathe. Midway through laughing, he started to cough, and got up...

...and fainted dead away, taking a table with him down to the floor!

The five of us left standing just sat there in shock for a moment. Holy shit! Was he having a heart attack? Oh my god! What the hell?

A mere second or two later, as the restaurant staff were running over, Chuck got back up. "I'm fine! I'm fine!" He had a shellshocked look on his face.

Apparently, he just hadn't gotten enough oxygen while laughing, so when he stood up, his blood pressure plummeted and so did he. He was fine, but a bit shaken from the whole experience.

Naturally, we all ribbed him about it throughout the evening. He will not hear the end of it this weekend.

We also surmised that our lightning strike from earlier today gave Cajones superpowers. He's now like Blackbolt: he can open his mouth and destroy the world!

As the night wore on and factions of our group went back to the hotel, we all became more deeply embroiled in political talk. As we discussed the brilliance of Stephen Colbert (who will be at the convention, by the way), Chuck got up a second time...

...and a glass bottle of ketchup spilled off a neighboring table, shattering into pieces on the diner floor.

ANOTHER casualty of the day!

The very New York manager came over and chatted with us after that. He wasn't angry or anything, he was just making sure we were alright. Then he told us about a time when someone in the diner made him so mad that he threw a bottle of ketchup at the guy.

Lesson learned: do not piss off diner managers.

Our chatty group finally dissolved sometime around 1:30 AM. We all needed some rest before the big show tomorrow.

My god, what a day!