"Until this summer, whenever faced with even the possibility of meeting Garcia Marquez in Mexico City, I had always invoked an essay of his in which he recounted how he had preferred to wave and salute Ernest Hemingway, one of his masters, from across a Parisian street rather than try to speak to him. If I was more than satisfied with the Garcia Marquez I could imagine from his writings, why meet the other one?"

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(This, coincidentally enough, sums up how I felt about meeting Gilbert Hernandez at San Diego this past year. Except for the saluting and waving part. I introduced myself to a lot of folks, shook a lot of hands because I could or wanted to, and generally have no problems saying hello to anyone, anywhere, for whatever dumbass reason. Just ask Eddie Campbell.

It would be a better story if I saluted and waved. And was dressed like Lt. Commander Sexy Spidey. Ahoy, Gilbert! AHOY GODAMMIT! TOUCH THE WEBS!)