Yes, it may seem ridiculous to draw serious conclusions from a weekend spectacular in which the main attractions masquerade as Vampirella, Galactus and She-Hulk, but

that’s why I’m paid the big bucks.

The first

was a ridiculous success. I’d peg Saturday’s turnout at 6,000-8,000, or at least 10 times the crowd I’ve ever seen at

, the city’s increasingly sleepy book festival. Four hours after the doors opened, the ticket line at the

was still 250 geeks deep.

“For a first-year show, this is unprecedented,” said Greg Reece, a rare comics’ dealer from Frederick, Md.

Reece concedes he only attended Wizard because it was scheduled the weekend before

: “But now that I’ve been here, I’m coming back next year, regardless of the schedule.

“Portland is definitely a major-league city on the popular culture tour.”

A player, in other words, among those willing to cough up $30 or more to mince words with Henry Winkler, Stan Lee and whichever cast member staggers in from “

.”

I find that both encouraging and empowering. As should you.

“Major league” is not Portland’s native state. Whenever a major Hollywood film opens “in select cities,” Portland is several hundred miles downstream.

If the city’s chefs, cyclists and parks can play with anyone, Oregonians settle for less on far too many levels.

That is especially disconcerting when it comes to the arts. “Portland is a comics’ town,” Kurt Busiek, who resides in Clark County, reminds us. “If you don’t need to

live near your publisher, this is a place people gravitate to.”

Yet for all that, it was Seattle, not Portland, that spawned Emerald City, a show that will draw 72,000 people this weekend to the Washington Convention Center. Portland has remained weirdly content with Stumptown, a low-key alternative comics fest, and the anemic Memorial Coliseum flea markets.

“Portland,” Busiek said, “ has been under-served.”

“What you see here,” Reece added, watching the crowd roll by, “is pent-up demand. The local shops don’t have the goods. Wizard has filled a real void here.”

I wonder if Wizard has any experience with riverfront baseball stadiums, the NHL and Convention Center hotels.

Wizard pulled this debut off, Busiek notes, because Wizard has a “machine ready-made for a town that is primed for what they do,” even if that includes $40 autograph sessions with James Marsters and Lou Ferrigno.

But Wizard also showed up with an attitude: Enough with the rinky-dink, Stumptown. You, too, can compete on a circuit that includes St. Louis, Nashville and, uh, Greater

Columbus.

It’s a start. Even if the Oregon Convention Center has deplorable acoustics and Internet access, Wizard was impressed enough with the weekend turnout that it has already scheduled dates — Jan. 24-26 — for 2014.

And the odds are good that Wizard will sign a few more pop-culture icons, reach deeper into the local community and rent an even larger convention space.

“If tradition means anything, these shows double in size their second year,” Reece said.

When did we decide the city’s ambition didn’t demand a similar growth curve?

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