Pros and Cons

Last week I attended my first convention-type event in over two decades. For my oldest son it was his first ever. Going into it I had high hopes and low expectations. Our experience can best be described as "wasn't great, but could have been worse."

Touted as Springfield, Missouri's "biggest and best comic book and toy convention" - one could add 'only' to that list of adjectives if one were so inclined - the 7th annual Rublecon offered an interesting mix of enthusiastic Hot Wheels collectors, comic book stores, and comic creators, along with a handful of flea marketers looking to make a fast buck or two off whatever junk they'd thrown in a box, driven across town, and dumped onto any and all flat surfaces available.

We entered the building, paid the admission fee, and had our hands stamped, then proceeded into the exhibition hall. We were not provided with a map of the convention floor, a schedule of events, a list of exhibitors, or even guidance as to how the booths were laid out. I understand the show is on a shoestring budget and admission was only $3, but put something in my hand at the door in addition to my admission/door prize ticket. First impressions and observations: The exhibitors were tightly packed into about 75% of the hall (pictured below) - the remaining space was completely empty.

The six previous shows included "special guests: such as top creators, actors, and professional wrestlers, but this year there were no "known names". There were seven rows of tables - one aisle started against the far wall and consisted of the SOMO (Southwest Missouri) Hot Wheels Club on one side and the remaining toy tables on the other, the second was made up of comic book sellers and a few creators, as was the final row facing the empty wall. Sandwiching the aisles were two rows of tables - one near the entrance offering $5 "grab bags" promising merchandise "worth at least $20" in each bag and a few other booths selling various pop culture merchandise, and one on the opposite side of the room featuring the remaining creators and an area for taking photos with those in costume. Inexplicably, there were three tables scattered among the comics dealers selling Tupperware, dresses, and (sigh) essential oils.

We made our way to the first aisle, and spent a couple of minutes watching a man race various Hot Wheels on a homemade aluminum track about six feet in length. It was actually pretty cool - two cars would be launched at the same time with the winning car triggering a light at the end of the track. A sign indicated that others could race their own cars, but there was no indication of a fee. We walked away not knowing if he was there as a free attraction, charging people to race, or selling customized tracks.

We moved to the next table, which was covered with still-packaged Hot Wheels. (Does anyone buy Matchbox anymore?!?) The man behind it asked how we were doing, then stated that if we saw anything we liked to "make an offer. Or pick out some stuff and I'll make you an offer." I'm not sure anything turns me away from browsing faster than that. Either mark everything with a price or have some sort of signage explaining how everything is priced, then throw out an bonus offer once my wallet is out, but don't make me guess or negotiate. Sadly, most of sellers at the Hot Wheels tables followed suit, and the toy sellers on the opposite side of the aisle were even worse. (At one we were presented with tied grocery bag of various Transformers, which the seller tore open and stated, "they all go together somehow. I don't know nuthin' about 'em, but I'll take ten bucks for the bag." I really wanted to say "just for the bag? But you tore a big hole it it! Would you throw the toys in for free?" but figured the humor would be lost.)

We quickly moved on to the comic book aisle.

Our first stop was a complete bust - the entire booth was full of over-priced books connected to major storyline events or the movies of the last decade.

The folks at the next table were still setting up, despite the show being open for almost an hour.

Most of the tables after that fell into one or more of the following categories:

1. More over-priced books that were "hot" sometime in the past decade, but had definitely "cooled" since being priced.

2. Common books marked a bit too high so that multi-book discounts seemed attractive. (On average, the single price was $5 per book and the discounted price fell somewhere around $3. The most common minimum discount threshold was $20.)

3. Heavily discounted collected editions or individual books. (All of our comic book purchases fell into this category.)

4. Absolute junk at rock-bottom prices. Remarkably, it was the proprietors at these booths that seemed the most pushy and desperate. Each one made me wish I'd brought hand sanitizer.

We avoided most of the creator tables, as nothing looked interesting. (A note: having an over-sized poster featuring a cheap Harley Quinn knock-off standing over a severed arm and licking a bloody meat cleaver might not by best for a "family event.")

We walked the floor a second time, picking up a few books in the process, then exited. Overall, we spent two hours and $23 (including admission) at the show. For a small show on a tight budget, it wasn't bad. Will we return next year? As long as the admission fee remains low and the number of QUALITY vendors remains the same or increases, yes. However, there are junk shops and flea markets all over the city that DON'T charge an admission fee - if next year is more of that, it will likely be the last time we attend.