My day started with meeting the gang from Thought Collide at the Motor City Comic Con. We went there to promote a new sci-fi series that we're working on called InZer0.
The whole comic con experience started out pretty much as one would expect. We set up our table, had a chance to meet with the other vendors and artists as well as check out some of the stuff that was there before the fans came in to see everything.
They had a reproduction of the Batmobile...
As well as K.I.T.T., (the car from Knight Rider)...
It all started out as a really cool experience that pretty much made me forget about the stuff that was worrying about earlier (more on that part later).
Life got a bit more complicated when I went out to my car to grab something. It was at that point that I realized:
- I had a flat tire and
- I had locked my keys in the car. Again.
In this case it was more of the worry about stuff angle.
I do freelance work. I have 4 different clients who collectively owe me over $8,000. The problem, of course, is that there's a big difference between being owed money and actually having money. Since all of them were taking their time in paying, and I just sent the bloodsuckers at the IRS a check for a couple grand (most of it for self-employment tax), my bank account was getting uncomfortably low.
$24.17, to be exact.
I thought of that number a lot as I stood there in the parking lot of the Rock Financial Showplace; wondering just what kind of new tire I could get for $24.17 since my credit cards were close to maxed out.
As soon as I realized that the answer to this question was none, I started wondering how long I could drive on a donut.
As I stood there in parking lot, trying not to have a panic attack, I noticed a series of police cars arrive. Under different circumstances, the very idea of 20 or so police officers moving briskly into the comic con would've made me wonder what was going on.
Not that day, though.
I was too distracted to worry about much of anything.
I eventually wandered back inside - mostly because it made more sense to be panicked with friends nearby than all by my lonesome in the parking lot.
When I got back, Ed Gardiner told me why the police were there. They had been raided the convention. Several of the vendors were arrested for selling bootleg comic books and DVDs.
This has to sound odd, but there really is nothing like like watching thousands and thousands of dollars worth of bootleg merchandise get carted away in a U-Haul truck to make an indie filmmaker/novelist like me feel better about my lot in life.
It really and truly enabled me to relax a little bit.
Anyway, as I wandered through the exhibit hall and checked out the other exhibits, I bumped into a couple of really cool people - such as the perpetually cool Chanel Ryan. She was in town as one of the media guests.
Note to self: I have to figure out way to get Chanel to Detroit more than just once or twice a year.
Anyway, as I continued on my day, my mood couldn't help but improve. I met with a couple of distributors as well as sci-fi fans and those who work in the industry. We sold a few tickets to the next screening of InZer0. All in all, I got done everything that I wanted to get done that day.
When it was time to leave, Eric Novack was kind enough to help me change the flat tire on my car. The folks from AAA sent a locksmith to unlock my car.
Oh, and when I finally made it home - there was a long-awaited check from Model D in my mail box. It was payment for an article that I had written for them.
I took a look at the envelope and realized why it had taken so long for this check to reach me. Believe it or not - they forgot to include my city, state or ZIP code in the address. It was just my name and street address.
Big time kudos go out, by the way, to everyone as the U.S. Postal Service for delivering that check to me without much of an address to go on.
All in all, it was a very memorable day.