Part III: You won’t need a cab to find a priest
Day Five: Wednesday
As everyone knows, Wednesday is New Comic Book Day. What you may not know, is that Denver is the home of Mile-High Comics — the largest comic book shop in the world. Anyone who’s spent much time reading comics knows about Mile High. They’ve been running full-page ads in comics for years. Their mascot is a beaver or raccoon or something holding a flag.
Naturally, I had to go. According to the iPad, it was 3 miles or a 1-hour walk away. Again, it looked a lot longer than an hour walk on the map. But I couldn’t bring myself to hire a cab to take me to a comic book shop, so the boy and I got up early and started to walk in the direction on the map. After 40 minutes it was obvious that we were nowhere near the shop and I wasn’t all that confident about this map. Streets in Denver curve around and change names frequently.
We walked back to the hotel and ask for a cab. Hey, this isn’t some hole-in-the-wall comic shop — this is Mile High. It’s like a museum of comics. Some guy pulls up from Mile High Cab — it’s a sign, right?
“4600 Jason Street.”
The guy turns around and looks at me. “What is there?”
“Uh..Mile High Comics” I mumble.
“Comic Books? OK.”
Never having had a fare ask to go to the largest comic book shop in the world, Haraldo (or Gerardo, I’m not sure) plugged the destination into his GPS and off we went. Harry was one of those affable, chatty types of cabbies. Normally I don’t care for that type but he was so nice I didn’t mind. He let us know when to roll down our windows and breathe in the pot smoke. That kinda guy. And yes, comic shops are often located in those types of places.
The Jason Street location is a warehouse, hence the large size, and as such is located in the warehouse district, far too far to walk to as I soon realized. We arrived at the location and there was just a big, square, red building. The only sign we were in the right place was the Mile High Comics banner on top, the first word of which had blown over so all you could read was High Comics. Harry drove around until he found what looked like a front door.
“Do you want me to come back for you?”
“Would you mind? Give me, say, 45 minutes?”
“Sure. Here’s my card. Call if you want to stay longer or leave earlier.”
Now at this point you’re saying — Ha Ha! You don’t have a phone! True, but knowing my plans for the day, I took Laurie’s. She wouldn’t need it in class.
We walked inside and — oh my god — it was the biggest comic book shop in the world. Aisle after aisle of comics and graphic novels and toys and posters and action figures and statues. There was a life-size Superman suspended in mid-flight. A life-size Spider-man crouching on a table. Sentinels and tie-fighters and all kinds of stuff.
I soaked it all in and found the new comics wall and picked up an issue of “Uncanny X-Men.” They had a stack of free Hawkeye vs. Hulk “Civil War II” posters at the front door so I took one of those for my souvenir. I finished a little early (I don’t dawdle, especially with Andrew in tow), so I gave Harry a call. “Be there in 10 minutes.” And he was.
I asked Harry to drop us off at the McDonald’s on 16th street for a cheap but satisfying lunch. He turned the meter off halfway there and thanked me for taking him to Mile High because now he would know where it was when the next tourist came along. We had a good ride and when we were done I tipped him mightily and was glad to do so.
After lunch we hit the pool and I read my comic, satisfied that I did all I came to Denver to do. Laurie came in excited that she had won a Kindle Fire at the vendor event. This was a good thing since I had dropped my iPad at the pool earlier in the week and put some cracks in the screen.
That night there was a dinner and dance at the Denver Performing Arts Complex. The event took place in an opera house that was a neat venue. The food was …OK. It sounded better on paper than it did in the stomach. I ate a lot of cake balls that night.
The entertainment was a band playing ’80s hits (Although you’re not fooling anybody — “Staying Alive” is from the ’70s). If there’s one thing this bunch of lawyers likes to do — it’s drink and dance. L and A spent a good deal of time on the dance floor. I spent a good deal of time at the bar. LawyerCon is the only time of year I enjoy a good Whisky Sour.
Day Six: Thursday
Final conference day. Spent the morning at the pool while L was in class. When she got done we went for a walk. Since we’d done the downtown shopping district to death, we went the other way. First we went to the Convention Center to get a picture with the giant blue bear. Then we wound up at a park full of food trucks, but sadly the Greek truck was all out of Gyros. From there we walked up the hill to the Capitol building. It was nice but ours is better.
Made our way back to the burger shop from night one. Next door they sell ice cream, and more importantly, shaketinis. Laurie had been wanting one all week and it was now or never.
That night L had her end-of-conference banquet so the boy and I were on our own. I found a cafe that had an Alex Ross “Secret Wars” poster hanging up so I figured it was a good place to eat. The menu was extensive. I was torn between the burrito and a gyro. I figured there was no way they would have a better burrito than Mexican Villa, and I had been thwarted from my hopes of a gyro at lunch so I went Greek. Andrew had chicken strips. As per usual.
When we got back to the hotel it was cool and overcast so I decided we wouldn’t make it to the pool again. Packed up our stuff for the early morning flight out and we sat on the bed together and watched whatever was on TV. I took great comfort and relief in knowing that we had made it through the conference without a single meltdown or trip to the hospital.
Tomorrow: The thrilling finale