The Elusive Gold Homer Buddah, My Attempt to Accquire a Comic ConExclusive.

For me collecting toys is an experiential hobby. I don't simply buy and archive the toys as objects. I collect them because they elicit emotions like happiness or nostalgia, or because I enjoy the thrill of the hunt for that rare and special piece.  Since we are on the threshold of San Diego Comic Con 2015,  I thought it appropriate to reflect upon one of my experiences trying to procure one of the infamous Comic Con exclusive toys.

Tonight is "Preview Night" for the event.  This is the night when toy, comic, and pop-culture hungry patrons, who are lucky enough to have Preview Night passes, will descend on the San Diego convention center by the thousands.  They will all be on the hunt for something; an autograph, a first shot at seeing a new show or movie, and, of course, SDCC exclusive toys.  The excitement and anticipation is palpable at SDCC.  Unfortunately, there are occasions where the anticipation only pans out ultimately as disappointment.  It was that way for me a few years back at SDCC 2012.

My wife and I were on the doorstep of nerd-mecca and the excitement was bubbling inside.  San Diego Comic Con is the worlds biggest pop-culture convention.  Prior to landing weekend passes that included Preview Night, we had heard stories of all the cool sneak peaks of shows and movies that are screened for attendees.  We also knew that many would be crowding into the exhibit hall to track down the infamous SDCC exclusives.  These come in many forms.  Often, they are some collectible or toy that is only sold at the convention in limited numbers and have a special paint scheme exclusive to that event.

We had done our research by scouring blogs leading up to the event to learn about what sorts of plastic, made-in-China, treasures we would discover.  None of the exclusives really resonated with us, so we decided to skip the shopping for the evening and actually watch the shows and previews instead.  It was "Preview Night" after all!  We absorbed these shows with the special sensation of knowing that we were among the first people in the world to see them.  It was a fun night and an exciting kickoff to what, no doubt, was going to be a fantastic weekend.

The next day, we tackled the exhibit hall.  After waking up early and waiting in line with several thousand of our closest geeky friends, we targeted a corner of the hall with a concentration of booths that we knew we wanted to visit.  Among the first on the list was Kidrobot.  Anyone who knows about vinyl toys knows Kidrobot.  They are probably the biggest seller of limited edition vinyl toys in the world.  They have been applying the signature Kidrobot aesthetic to licensed character lines like the Simpsons for a number of years now.  In the days leading up to the event, the Internet was buzzing with silhouetted "teaser" images of some of their special offerings for SDCC.

We approached the booth and scanned the glass display cases.  There was some great stuff, but one thing quickly stood out: the gold Homer Simpson Buddha statue.  With a serene expression on his face, Homer sat in lotus position atop a glazed-donut shaped base.  In one of his hands was a salted pretzel and in the other was his Buddhist prayer beads.  This vinyl statue sat in the Kidrobot display case looking resplendent in it's smooth gold finish.  My mission for the weekend was now clear: buy this toy.  I quickly asked someone at the booth and, they said that none had arrived to be sold that day, so I should check back tomorrow.  They informed me that I would get to the booth whereupon I would be issued a ticket guaranteeing me one of the toys.  I would then return to the booth at a specified time to pick up the toy.  "Okay, no problem," I thought.

The way I saw it, I had a few advantages:

• I had an inside agent because a good friend of ours was working at a booth inside the convention hall.
• We were staying at a nearby hotel, making it that much easier to get into the hall early.
• I was a determined ass mo-fo.

The next morning, we lined up early to get in.  I was maintaining cell contact with my friend the whole time.  She walked over to the Kidrobot booth early to see if they would extend a little professional courtesy and give her a reservation ticket before the hall opened.  They told her, to be fair, she should check back when the hall opened.  We were getting close to entering the hall ourselves, so we decided to break contact for the time being.

We finally entered the exhibit hall.  Stampeding nerds were whizzing past us heading to various booths to get other exclusives.  All the while the event staff were proclaiming in a disinterested monotone, "Walk.  Don't run please."  Sadly, my attempt to get to the Kidrobot booth in time was as futile as the plea to stop exclusive-hungry Comic Con attendees from running.  I was promptly informed at the booth that there were no more Homer Buddhas available that day.  Bummer.

"Okay, okay, no problem" I thought, "surely my friend was successful.  I mean, she was RIGHT THERE when the hall opened, bless her heart."  We made our way to our friend's booth to check in.  I could taste the success.  I was prepared to stare into the "warm glowing, warming glow" of the gold painted plastic.  With excitement brimming, we approached our friend's booth.

First of all, her booth was huge.  She works for one of the biggest video game companies around.  The booth actually had an inside stock room, so we walked up and asked to see her.  She came out looking incensed.  "Uh-oh," I thought.  She explained to me how the guy at the Kidrobot booth stubbornly held fast to the reservation tickets until the full brunt of the nerd-stampede was upon them.  Despite her requests for one of the tickets, he would not give her one.  Our friend who is small in stature nearly got trampled in the process.  I don't know the full details of her miraculous escape, but she managed to see the Kidrobot employee gleefully running away, holding the tickets above his head in a sadistic game of nerd-tag.

To say our friend was PISSED would be a serious understatement.  She gave us an expletive-laden explanation of how the business of SDCC exclusives was nothing new to her and she had NEVER seen this sort of distribution method before.  She had instantly lost all professional respect for Kidrobot. My feelings were really more along the lines of resignation and disappointment.  Fortunately, Comic Con really is a roller coaster of hope (I want that exclusive) and defeat, (they are out of that exclusive), boredom (this is a long-ass line) and excitement (I'm 50 feet away from the khaleesi!) The point is, there is always another emotional up-swing to count on.

I couldn't resist my own curiosity after arriving home from the convention, so I checked out eBay for the elusive, gold Homer Buddha.  Sure enough, you could get one...in fact, you could get TEN if you wanted.  People were selling them for double the retail price, and they were selling them in mass volume.  Obviously, many of them must have been purchased on Preview Night, and savvy eBay dealers were cashing in.

I decided to dig my heels in on this one and accept defeat.  In a few short weeks following the convention, I was excited to see that the standard edition of Homer Buddha was being released.  It differed from the SDCC exclusive because of the full-color paint job.  I ordered one, and begrudgingly, I admit that it is one of my favorite pieces.  In fact, it's arguable that the standard version is better than the exclusive because of the more elaborate color scheme.

Today, the Gold Homer Buddha is as rare as ever.  Very few examples show up on eBay, and those that do can sell for hundreds of dollars.  But I get it.  Business is business.  I think the real bummer is that I am a fan of toys, a fan of the Simpsons, a fan of Kidrobot...yes, even after this experience.  I wanted that toy to display and enjoy in my glass cabinet at home.  I didn't want two or three or FIVE of them to sell.  I just wanted one.  I tried to obtain one through semi-legitimate Comic Con-goer channels and failed.  As a bonus, my good friend was nearly trampled to death trying to help me get one too.  If she had been killed by the avalanche of geeks, the last thing she would've seen was the maniacal Kidrobot booth employee  running away like a douche with hundreds of nerds in chase.  If I sound a bit bitter and sorry for myself, then let me just say, you're right!  I am.

Have a safe Comic Con everyone!