San Diego. For four sweet days the Southern California paradise transformed from the land of wild animals and leaping whales into a magical haven of superheroes, inhabitants of Saturday Morning CartoonLand and Star Wars/Trek fantasy. In other words, the l and of cheap tourism became the land of The Con.

We arrived in San Diego at 4 in the morning, with the streets of the bayside town empty and our prospective hotel hanging a 'no vacancy' sign. After killing time wandering in and out of a variety of adult bookstores, all-night arcades and convenience stor es, we were able to check in to our esteemed "older gentleman" hotel (rates: $17 a night, $85 a week, or $265 a month) with just enough time to splash some water under our armpits and head out to our ultimate destination ... the Valhalla of geekdom. The S an Diego Comic Convention.

My friends joined the long winding line of fellow conventioneers waiting to secure admittance, steeling themselves for an hour-plus wait in the sticky humidity, while I, press credentials in hand, was whisked into the climate-controlled building to explor e before anybody else. Except for the other press people, that is.

What I saw made my jaw drop. Far from just pithy displays of comic book collector worship, there were booths devoted to horror movies, collectible toys, movie posters, anime soundtracks, books, magazines, movie props, gaming aids, and costume accessories. I knew immediately there was no turning back, quickly buying a "Halloween" movie T-shirt and slipping into the arriving masses. Here is my experience, what I saw, what I did, what I thought. I will hold back nothing.

THURSDAY, JULY 4

Today I made the rounds of the exhibition hall three times. I bought the aforementioned T-shirt and some old, 70s Superhero records on the esteemed Power Records division of Peter Pan Records. I also bought ten McDonald's drinking glasses, with doubles of Grimace, Big Mac and Captain Crook. Sadly, the Fry Guys were not represented, but they might not have been conceived at the time of this particular glass pressing (est. date: 1976). The vendor who sold me these glasses was very odd -

Jason (my fellow conventioneer): Can I look at those posters?

Vendor: They are very expensive.

Jason: How much?

Vendor: They're in mint condition.

Jason: Can I look at them?

Vendor: (reluctantly) As you can see, they're in mint condition. This "Amazing She Creature" is $475. That one is $750. They're in excellent condition. You see they're on linen paper, suitable for framing. It doesn't yellow, and stretches nicely. T hey're both in mint condition.

Jason: Well, they're nice, but a little out of my price range.

Vendor: Nobody says you have to buy anything.

Jason: I know, I just wanted to look.

Vendor: Well, you can see they're in mint condition. Do you know what mint condition is?

Jason: Yes, I just can't afford them.

Vendor: You don't have to buy anything, you can just look. I'm just a collector.

Jason: That's good because what I thought you were saying was that I had to buy something.

Vendor: (annoyed) No you don't. You don't have to buy anything.

Noah: Can I look at those glasses?

Vendor: They're $20 for the set.

Noah: I'll take them.

Vendor: They've never been used. They're in mint condition.

Noah: Hmm ... actually this Grimace glass looks to be VG++ (Very Good Plus Plus).

Vendor: (sigh) Now you see why I'm getting out of this business.

That night we ate at a really bad Mexican bar and grill that named its food things like "Quien Es Mas Nachos" and passed around a giant sombrero for its customers to wear.

FRIDAY, JULY 5

I bought some movie posters today ("Cockfighter," "Charley Varrick," "Topkapi" and "Riffifi in Tokyo"). The vendor was a pretty cool guy whose real job was in the Archiving Department at Warner Bros. We talked for a while, and he gave Jason and I discount s on everything we bought, including a free poster each. There were other poster vendors too, and if you need all 43 variations of the "Pulp Fiction" poster, the Tibetan print of the "Reservoir Dogs" poster, or bootleg Jet Li posters, I suggest you look a round. But everybody who came to this guy's table left a winner. Also notable, was the appearance of 10 or more homemade Klingons who walked around posing for pictures, a lo-fi version of Tank Girl, Walter Koenig, and some Crow impersonators. I also met P eter Mayhew that day. He was very friendly and very huge. I shook his hand and temporarily lost my hand underneath the mass of flesh and hair.

Noah: Hi!

Peter Mayhew: Hello.

Greg: Will you make the Chewbacca noise for us?

PM: Actually, I never actually spoke. Those sounds were all dubbed in.

Greg: Did you make any other movies?

PM: Just the three. What else do you need to do after those?

Noah: Do you ever get sick of being Chewbacca?

PM: No, absolutely not. I got a chance to create something and make it mine completely. I made a lot of people happy. No one can ever take that away from you.

True to his word, Peter Mayhew (who was sitting with Kenny Baker (R2D2) and David Prowse (Darth Vader)) was selling his autograph for $10 a pop. I also attended a Star Wars panel about the upcoming 20th anniversary release of the trilogy. They also talked about the upcoming book, "Shadows of the Empire," which takes place between the "Empire Strikes Back" and "Return of the Jedi." The Lucasfilm representative described it as this: "You may have thought it was easy to transport the carbonized Han Solo from Bespen the Cloud City to Jabba's lair. No way."

SATURDAY, JULY 6

This would be our last day at the con. I bought some more kiddie records, some Star Wars figures, talked myself out of the stuff I didn't need, and tried to rest my aching feet and people-watch. There wasn't anything I hadn't seen, from 40 or 50 aging mal es in bad clothing and glasses, holding free copies of Spawn merchandise while trying to get the attention of a well-paid adult video star, to replicas of lightsabers priced to sell at $500. We went to part of the 24-hour Universal monster movie marathon and saw "Creature of the Black Lagoon" and "Bride of Frankenstein," went home and slept. I was broke, and sad that I couldn't afford the whole set of Funny Faces mugs I saw priced at $85; Jason had talked himself out of the "Franken Berry" cereal T-shirt, and we all felt stupid for our involuntary pop culture references. Next year, I'll bring more money. And my new Klingon Bible.

Next year's convention is July 17-20