Sorry, I mean the Harvey awards, named after Harvey Kurtzman, creator of Mad Magazine. Though…it might be a more apt description of the events that unfolded.
I have a sad self-truth to admit: despite whatever claims of mega-nerdiness I claim to subscribe to, I’ve only been to 2 cons in my entire life. Three, if you count the time I went but couldn’t get into NYCC and woefully walked home in my green Robin hot pants.
The cons I went to were giant productions, crammed to the gills with geeks, so when we arrived at Baltimore con and found something more intimate, I was very pleasantly surprised. All of the fans were exceedingly nice (and well dressed!), books were cheap, and you got lots of face time with creators. All the while, though while I am always first and foremost a professional, I excel in the art of girly giddiness when I’m around said creators (even when I’ve already talked to them for our highly entertaining podcast).
Embarrassments aside, after the con finished, we attended a very drama filled Harvey Awards. The theme that was supposed to have come across was that digital was good (!) and that creators had nothing to worry about in terms of pirating and their monies (Euros, dollars, rupees, gold pieces, etc). However, I couldn’t help but get the distinction that I was actually attending another person’s family reunion. Everyone knew eachother, and each of the individual families were getting along just fine. But there was the occasional crazy sommersaulting uncle (I’m looking at you Bryan Glass), the sincere aunt, and then grandpapa telling your uncle how much of a screw up he is and how he’s about to take him out back for a beat down.
Oh, and there were awards.
My exaggerations may sound just like that – exaggerations – but I assure you they are spot on. But seriously, someone should write a comic about the Harvey awards…and if that won a Harvey award, would that be a paradox?
Tagged: deadpool · Harvey Awards · Mad magazine awards
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