I Got the Golden Ticket

My wife and I cannot find an escape destination from SoCal. The SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 pandemic proved to be massive interference—from “stay-at-home” shutdowns to insanely rising house prices as newfound work-from-homers fled the cities for more affordable areas that we also considered. Perhaps we were too compliant Californians and locked down when getting ahead of the escaping herd would have made more sense. But we still search, with hopes of vamoosing this year.

That raises question: Will I be around for San Diego Comic-Con Special Edition, which is scheduled for Thanksgiving Weekend? I ask because—oh my fraking luck—the SDCC overlords blessed me (“praise be“, as they say on Handmaid’s Tale) with opportunity to buy a pass during open registration today. How could I refuse?

My last holy pilgrimage, for a single day, was during the full convention in July 2017. All attempts to secure a pass for other years failed. Strangely, this time, I made minuscule effort, raising question: Is it a sign that we should stay longer? Nah. We flee when opportunity presents. At 10:58 a.m. PDT, two minutes before the opportunity closed, I clicked the link to the Comic-Con SE waiting room but instead joined a queue outside. That pretty much meant no sale.

But rather than close the laptop lid, I busied cleaning windows. Unseasonable, torrential rains and thunderstorms plowed through the area yesterday afternoon—leaving dirty water droplet residue behind. Occasionally, I returned to check my progress. Then, around 11:45 a.m., I joined the queue and shortly landed on the registration page.

I started the process, ready to take advantage of my (oh, this hurts to say) senior status and 50-percent discount. But, instead, SDCC presented payment option for full-price badge. Yikes! Looking over the order and my account page showed my designation as Adult. That’s when I discovered Comic-Con doesn’t use your birthdate to determine status. You must manually make the change yourself, which I did. But would that make any difference?

Ready to abandon all hope, I backtracked in the web browser, expecting any number of glitches spitting me out of registration or re-presenting full-priced purchase. Whew! I started again but hit a new snag, with the system trying to sell me two passes for the same ID at two different prices—and the message accompanying the error forebode a Superman and Kryptonite moment.

Then, quite magnanimously, the ordering system resolved to my changed “senior” status and presented $75 badge option, which I thankfully grabbed and paid for.

Now there is the question: Will I even be in San Diego during the last weekend of November? As I type tonight, it’s more likely than not. The other: Will CC Special Edition even take place? The SARS-CoV-2 Delta variant is highly communicable and vaccination doesn’t stop it. The jabbed may not develop COVID-19 but many—and I suspect most—will be infected. Nature’s inoculation is here for everyone, most certainly the vax-resisters. Some time during the next two months, Governor Gavin Newsom (and/or San Diego County health officials) may feel compelled to reimpose restrictions. Big-venue gatherings are most likely to be the kind of super-spreading event to be curtailed or prohibited.

Say, someone explain to me: How does social distancing work when the Comic-Con show floor typically looks like the Featured Image? Vitals: f/4, ISO 1600, 1/125 sec, 24mm; 12:53 p.m. PDT, July 25, 2010; Leica X1.