Monday, September 9, 2013

What Comic Books Mean To Me

The other day I started thinking about the fact that I really don’t read comics anymore, and it saddened me.  I wasn't having these feelings because I miss it, although sometimes I do.  I wasn't melancholy because the characters no longer are part of my life, because they still are through other media like TV, movies, video games & the internet.  It wasn't even the fact that I miss the feeling of the Wednesday comic book run and the communal way we would gather to discuss the events in those books.  No, those are not the reasons form my lament.  The reason I started feeling down is because the person who got me into comic books is leaving me.  It is my mother, surprisingly enough, and she is dying of cancer.

My earliest comic book specific memory is picking up The Brave and the Bold #139, starring Batman and Hawkman in a story titled “Requiem for a Top Cop" .  I bought this comic from a store in my hometown of West Springfield, Massachusetts for 35 cents back in late 1977, when I was just 7 years old.  I can’t put my finger on why this book was my first comic book.  If I were to venture a guess, probably timing was 75% of it, because I had just become old enough to appreciate the medium, and the rest because of Batman.  (As an adult, I have realized that Jim Aparo’s incredible art was most likely what drove me to it; he’s my favorite artist in the medium ever). The old Adam West Batman was on every afternoon growing up, and even at that early age I can remember being entertained by it, and I watched it because my Mom watched it. 

My mother was an avid DC Comics fan from way back in the 60’s.  One of her greatest regrets was letting our neighbors’ son borrow several comic books.  Included in those books was her copy of Justice League of America #1 from 1960.  She was so angry about never getting those books back, as she always had taken great care of her collection, and felt, rightly so, that the book was worth serious money.  We never completely found out what happened to the comics, but suffice it to say that never happened again. 

When I became old enough to get into her hobby, it was like she was a kid again.  I vividly remember she and I sitting at our dining room table, divvying up the list of titles on the subscription form as hers and mine.  Although Batman was the hero that first caught my eye, Flash and Green Lantern were my favorite characters and those were MY COMICS, Mom going more towards Superman, Wonder Woman & JLA.  So every week we would get the mail, and those comics would come in the brown paper sleeve, which we would slide off each one to see whose was whose.  Of course, just because she or I “owned” one comic or another, we always read each other’s and would talk about the stories.  This went on for about 5-6 years, until DC had the nerve to raise the price to a whopping 60 cents a book!  At the volume we were reading, which was practically every title DC published, something had to give.  So for that reason, and the fact that I had started to be a teenager who wanted to be too cool for the hobby, we stopped buying comic books.

As I got older, and more aware that life wasn't all about being cool, I found myself with the itch again.  This probably had a lot to do with my old friend Batman, as it was right around the time Tim Burton’s movie was released.  Even though the movie was the catalyst, I didn't buy an actual comic book again until the release of Green Lantern #1  in 1990.  Reading this book brought everything back, and the first person I shared it with was, of course, Mom.  It felt so good having those conversations again, as I dove back into the hobby feet first, this time including Marvel Comics into my reading as well.  It felt so good to have these characters back in my life, and my mother’s life as well.  I was hooked again, bouncing from comic shop to comic shop, as they would either close or someone would have a better discount for subscribers, but always coming home on a Friday (later Wednesday) with a stack I would blow through, and then share with Mom. 

Eventually the stories became a little too adult for Mom to be interested in, so she stopped reading the books.  Occasionally she would ask what was going on with this character or that, or a major event would happen that would get mainstream attention and she’d want to know my take.  Luckily, while the comic books themselves ceased to be a focal point of our conversations, they were replaced by the films that permeate the theaters these days.  Every time a new movie was released, I would usually go as early as I possibly could, Mom would coerce Dad to go to a matinee, and eventually we would discuss our views on the movie.  Thinking back now, my Mom would just ask me my opinion, let me rant (or praise, but mostly rant) on and on, smile and listen.  I know Mom was one of those people just happy to watch the films, and she just gave me the floor to voice my opinion. I sometimes wish I could be more like that.  Shouldn't everyone wish they could be more like the one person in their life that defines unconditional love? 


Comic books and the characters have been a huge part of my life for over 30 years.  I have been lucky enough to make some good friends and associates through the hobby I once had a great passion for.  I have read some epic stories, and some light-hearted ones, seen some great films, and some real duds (and one with George Clooney that doesn’t really exist).  All those books, all those movies and especially the relationships are all because of one person.  Thanks Mom!  I’ll always love you.

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