8 JULY 2024
If any aspect of San Diego Comic-Con has attained mythical status, it's the Hall H line. Farflung fan boys and girls have heard of it; other Con managers have tried to sell me on their not-San-Diego Con by saying, "And we have <celebrity> and <attraction> - so you don't need to camp in the Hall H line!"
Here's what they don't get: camping in the Hall H line is part of the fun.
It's also forbidden, according to the careful wording of CCI's latest blog post. "Camping is not allowed," they say firmly and go on to ban tents, canopies, cots, inflatable, space heaters, large umbrellas, open flames, etc. What you are permitted: one chair of "relatively normal size" and a banket or sleeping bag. Isn't camping built into the definition of a sleeping bag? I guess the other option is "slumber party" so maybe we'll go with that: the Hall H line is the biggest slumber party on the West Coast.
How the Hall H line mutated into an ungodly monstrosity
In a word: us. We did this.
When I was a wee Comic-Con kitten, I casually strolled into Hall H in the middle of a Neil Gaiman panel. (Ahem). A few years down the road and I was groaning about the terribly unreasonable 2-hour wait for a LOST panel. Shortly after that, I looked out of my room at the Hilton Bayfront and saw a shanty town with tents and blankets and tiny grills: the Twilight fans.
Sometime after that, I said, "I'm done with Hall H."
There are just too many people who carry Hall H in their hearts. They are willing to sleep outside for multiple nights, deceive and scam, sacrifice all other aspects of the Con. It takes a skilled and collaborative group to successfully obtain good seats and still enjoy the rest of Comic-Con.
I've only endured it once in recent years. But I do understand its magnetic powers and it's not just the panels themselves that attract people; some people really enjoy the line itself. Organizing line shifts with color-coded spreadsheets; enjoying the shivery San Diego nights as you congratulate yourself on being the Con version of punk as fuck; getting deep into 3 a.m. conversations with the people in front of you and exchanging numbers though you'll never talk to them again: it can be a deeply memorable, soul-stirring experience.
But it can also be sheer hell. Fake wristbands, line cutters, discovering that you are now 1100 people back even though you were in the first 300 a few hours ago; the Hall H line can turn you into one of those people screaming online that the Con is dead and you are never going back!
Should you and if so, how so?
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