Finding My Inner Taz

I am of course a default Wile E Coyote

Every movie ticket purchased, every gallon of milk, every joke, come with risk. Maybe it won’t go over well, maybe it won’t be worth it.

Per the rules of kindergarten, you get what you get and you don’t get upset.

I spent the weekend at a place not worth the risk.

I’ve made the most of it – I’ve read close to 1000 pages while sitting at a booth no one is walking by. I got a good amount of work done on a big upcoming project. I had a lot of great chats with people. (Is that networking? Or does it only count as proper networking if something comes of it?) I looked at it as a mixture of writer’s retreat and (if anyone walked by) a chance to talk abotu pop culture.

I’ve had other weekeneds like this, and if I keep on going to conventions I will again.

But I did something this weekend I’ve never done before: I changed tables.

I at up on Friday next next to a husband and wife team of artists. We were in a dead zone, next to a TMobile truck that was chasing the few peopel away with requests ot change their phone plan.

On Saturday, the married artists packed up and left. They didn’t leave the convention, they just decamped to a better table.

Just as everyone picked last at kickball dwells on why they were picked last, vendors doing badly dwell on why. Their three conclusions are location, location, location. What counts as a good location, though? Who’s a better neighbor, someone selling different stuff or someone selling similar stuff? A megapopular booth or a quiet neighor who doesn’t draw attention from you? Whihc aisle is better?

It’s like if the Oreo cookies and Cheez-Its met up after the supermaket closed to figure out which corproate food giant was promoting them better. Did Nabisko pay for a end-cap for the new Double-Stuff launch? Did Sunshine pay extra for a standout box for the Super Bowl?

When things are good, no one has time to think these thoughts. Vendors just chat with customers and sell things, and then go back to their motels and have money fights.

Our tables were in an annex. 85% of the vendors were in the main buildings. Then there was a big wall, the traditional architectural way of telling human beings the room is done, no more room, welcome to wall, do not go beyond the white cinder blocks.

We were on the other side of that wall. There were discreet doors int he cinderblock wall, but you had to get quite close to notice there were doors and a whole second annex room beyond the main room where everyone was.

While making small talk — we had plenty of time for small talk —I brought up a truism of the old Warner Bros. store from the mall, which was that everyone had a favorite Looney Tunes character.

The more specialized the merchandise, the better. There were no Bugs Bunny gardening set, but there were Tweety gardening sets, and they sold very well. There were no Porky Pig biker jackets, but there were Tazmanian Devil biker jackets. They sold out in days.

The artist husband said he loved Bugs and Daffy. Those were his characters.

The wife surprised me; “Taz,” she said. “Definitely Taz.”

It was with the Taz spirit that she decided to get up and move to a better location. On the side of the wall with people.

I am at heart a Wile E Coyote person. When bad things happen to me, I whimper and open up an inadequate umbrella and wait as the shadow of the boulder falling towards my head grows larger and larger.

But this weekend I decided to be Taz.

Sunday morning I found an empty table way closer to the action. On the populated side of the wall. I talked to a few people, and came to the organizer with a solution, not a problem: could I move my stuff to this empty table?

I could.

Within 15 minutes I had set up shop in the good part of town.

I would love to say that this made all the difference, that Sunday’s sales shot through the roof. That would be a great way to end the story, wouldn’t it?

Alas, tumbleweeds. My intestinal fortutide notwithstaning, you still need people, and very few peopel showed up on Sunday. Having said that, as slow as it was on the full side, I can only imagine the torpor of the empty side.

But I’ve learned what to do in situations like this: don’t always just accept it. Tap into the Taz a little bit.

We’ve got a little bit of all the Looney Tunes in us. We’re Bugs at our best, Daffy when we fall on our face, Yosemite Sam when angry, Speedy Gonzales when we’re doing more than we thought we could, Foghorn Leghorn when we let our inner Civil War Colonel out.

Hopefully next time I’m in need of inspiration, I don’t end up just muttering “thuffering thuccotash” while holding my tail.

PRINCESS LEIA OF THE WEEK

Funko Pop twofers! Her’es her and R2D2. Please, don’t buy Funko Pops. They’re the worst.

SPIDER-MAN OF THE WEEK

Reminder; don’t collect Funko Pops. They’re horrible and they all look the same.

MICKEY MOUSE OF THE WEEK

Most definitely don’t get Mickey Mosue Funko pops. This stuff should be public domain by now.

SUPER MARIO FUNKO POP

In conclusion, don’t buy Funko Pops. Burning your money and filming for fake internet points would be a better use of money than this plastic junk.

ME OF THE WEEK

Here’s me being interviews by Webster Style, a YouTube channel devoted to fashion.

Yeah, I don’t know why he picked to interview me either.

UPCOMING APPEARANCES

JUNE 15-16: RHODE ISLAND ANIME CON — Providence, RI

JULY 13-14: CONTROPOLIS NJ — Secaucus, NJ

JULY 18-21: CONNECTICON — Hartford, CT

AUGUST 16-18: TERRIFICON — Uncasville, CT (Haven’t heard back from the organized, but if I am here it’ll just be for half of Satyurday and then Sunday.)

AUGUST 23-25: RETROWORLD EXPO — Hartford, CT

SEPTEMBER 20-22: BALTIMORE COMIC-CON — Baltimore, MD

NOVEMBER 1-3: RHODE ISLAND COMIC-CON — Providence, RI