UlasanAnime.com – Reflecting on conventions can be a bit embarrassing, but hopefully, this piece will resonate with fellow anime enthusiasts.
Otakon stands out as a unique large anime convention, offering attendees a choice of image badges annually. This practice, while requiring extra effort and cost for registration staff, contributes to the growing culture of convention badges. The author, a recipient of custom badges over the years, values this tradition and hopes it continues. Around 2003, Otakon transitioned to non-laminated badges, streamlining the registration process and resulting in a more standard, faster experience for attendees.
The question of “why am I at a con?” frequently arises for the author, as convention experiences often feel contrary to their nature. This recurring introspection leads to a contemplation of the fandom’s aging demographic, with many friends now navigating adult responsibilities like marriage, children, and mortgages. The author, who has attended numerous conventions annually for the past four years, acknowledges this shift.
The author vividly recalls their first Otakon in 1998, marking it as a particularly strange and memorable experience. It was their inaugural anime convention and a significant event, including an unexpected encounter with Shoji Kawamori in an elevator. The initial plan for a day trip was altered due to a friend’s condition, leading to an unplanned stay in a crowded hotel room. These spontaneous, sometimes chaotic, moments are part of what makes conventions memorable, even if the author rarely repeated the specific circumstances of that first night.
Initially, youthful enthusiasm and curiosity fueled the author’s convention attendance. Today, conventions are primarily about creating lasting memories. For the first decade of attending anime conventions, the immersive atmosphere was deeply enjoyable. It wasn’t solely about being surrounded by fans of the same shows, as the author often found themselves with diverse tastes. The economic realities of time and money often force a choice between consuming anime voraciously and attending many conventions. A past discussion highlighted the cost of a convention being comparable to that of a TV series on DVD, presenting a less appealing value proposition for introverts. This feeling of being an outsider, however, heightened the contrast with the otherworldly environments of conventions, creating an existential draw.
Within this context, the author found personal relevance in anime conventions beyond what appears to be a typical costume party for many attendees. The author felt most “at home” in large viewing rooms, sharing laughter over jokes. The first viewing of Karekano at an Otakon fansub screening is a fond memory, as is the communal reaction to specific episodes. Similarly, watching Battle Royale in a standing-room-only screening at Otakon in ’99 was a highly enjoyable experience. The author notes that such events, like Otakon’s MST3K feature, were once highlights but are now less frequently attended, as most content is readily available elsewhere. The scarcity of time and the overlap of desired activities with necessary ones make attending screenings less of a priority.
The author now feels like a practiced stranger at Otakon and a complete stranger at other conventions. While familiar elements are present, a true sense of belonging or camaraderie, the “stranger at home” trope, is elusive. This may be due to niche interests within the fandom and a personal shyness in forming new friendships. The author prioritizes spiritual familiarity over subcultural commonality, and it is this search for novel and fanciful worlds that continues to draw them to conventions, prompting the recurring question: “why the hell am I here?”
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Over the years, friendships have indeed formed at conventions, largely facilitated by the internet. Conventions serve as de facto meetups for many online communities, with the shared context reducing awkwardness. The ability to communicate with these like-minded individuals throughout the year, between conventions, solidifies these connections, transforming them from mere acquaintances encountered at events into genuine friendships.
Without this foundation, the author questions whether they would continue attending as many conventions as they do. A compelling reason is necessary to motivate convention attendance. Relying solely on people can be fleeting, as individuals come and go, leading some to cease attending. The author recounts a difficult decision to attend Anime Expo, which was ultimately enjoyable and led to purchasing a premier badge for the following year. However, the primary motivation was to treat it as an expensive meetup and dine with friends who traveled for the event. While valuing these friendships, the significant expense is hard to justify, especially when considering alternative travel opportunities that might offer a greater return on investment of time and money.
The adage of attending conventions for friends has a limited shelf life as one ages, requiring a more substantial reason. For some, this might involve travel documentation, as seen in a linked example, while for others, it could be entirely different motivations. The author is at a life stage where vacation time is prioritized for relaxation due to work-related stress. Conventions, being the antithesis of relaxation, present a dilemma. Furthermore, the author’s involvement in convention-related “work,” such as press activities and information gathering, adds to the demanding nature of these events, moving beyond mere exhaustion from socializing.
Not all conventions are inherently exhausting. Animazement is highlighted as a favorite due to its relaxed atmosphere, enjoyable content, and Southern hospitality, offering a slower pace of life. The author suspects other conventions may offer similar experiences.
Despite the introspective nature of the current reflection, the author emphasizes that it does not diminish the value of memorable convention experiences, such as breakfast with Yui Horie and Eri Kitamura, seeing Besame Mucho, fielding questions for Tomino, or meeting bkub. These past memories, made possible by travel companions, accommodating organizers, and the anime industry, are the driving force behind planning trips to cities like Los Angeles or Chicago.
Referencing Omoikane, the author concludes that these unforgettable days are what matter. The author also humorously mentions the memorable Mac & Cheese at Poole’s as a contributing factor to a pleasant experience.
PS. The author notes that while writing about past conventions on this blog, there are likely many aspects that could be explored through retrospective criticism, and intends to do so when the mood strikes.
