Recall: Cebu Comic Con 2011 (2 of 3)

I hold a copy of Urban Animal #2 open on my sweaty left palm, trying to balance it as I sign Budjette’s introduction page with my right.  I ask for the kind lad’s name twice before I actually put pen to paper, scared of futzing it up.  You’d be surprised how many variations seemingly common names can have.  And I don’t remember the last time I actually hand-wrote a full sentence.  Sorry if I fucked up your comic, friend.

Cousins Jason and Carlo are on-site, along with high school buddies.  Makes the day feel a lot like a friendly reunion.  Zerothreetwo is a e-zine that showcases the destinations, events, and personalities of Cebu.   I wander to their booth evry now and then to shoot the shit.  Jason keeps bringing up “No Other Woman.”  I make a note to download it or something.  I take it all under advisement.

I don’t notice until after, but I walk under a buncha dudes on a ladder setting up a zip-line demo as I go back to my perch.  That probably wasn’t very smart.  I sit at the tambayan lovingly called “Stone Henge” with Vinzon “Bleedman” Ngo and colorists Ian Areola and Cristian Sabarre.  Close to noon, the steady influx of nerds, dresser-uppers, and just plain lost people slowly turns into a comic convention.  Rey offers to take care of my bagful of comics for me, probably noticing my misery.  Freed of the weight, I hit the Comic X Hub booth in search of new burdens.  Lawrence, easily among the friendliest guys around, sets me up with a buncha DC firsts.

I’m sitting on pavement with JP de la Rama and his girl near the UP oblation, scanning the strangely self-conscious and subliminally apologetic Aquaman #1 , when Kathryn and Brian Lewis show up.  The whole lot of us head to lunch at a pizza place I’ve been missing since I’ve moved away.  Leandro catches up to us there.

I grab a beer to loosen up a bit, maybe in anticipation of the afternoon crowd.  Comic fans or not, crowds don’t sit with me too well. Caulfield in a bottle.  Brian and I chat about Batman and ponies.  It all makes sense in context.  We head back at a little past noon, bellies full and brains akindle.  Artists in the alley.

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