Holy Comic Con, Batfan!

“So c’mon your childhood heroes
Won’t you rise up from the pages
Of your comic books, your super crooks
And show us all the way

We’ll have Superman for President,
Let Robin Save the Day”

--Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull—Thick As A Brick, 1972.

If I were to scream “hey geek” this weekend, I would have heard 50 thousand strong look back and yell, “What?”

This weekend, much to the dismay of my loyal eBay customers whose orders I will send on Thursday, I went to the Chicago Comic Convention.

To say this was geeky to the Nth degree would be a vast understatement—but I am among them, so its OK.

My brother-in-law Jeff and I traveled to the event with arms and wallets opened. He was driving a sporty Mini-Cooper that drew some stares and attention, as I ploughed through the Chicago Suburbia in my 2004 Saturn Ion II. We had a good time.

I must admit it was fun watching comic creators at their craft drawing sketches and talking about the industry. I met some very nice guys at TOP SHELF who were more than creators—they were folks who spoke with a quiet liberal, yet intelligent voice.

I chatted at length with Walt Simonson—writer of Thor and Superman—about his Manhunter series in 1973. He signed my trade paperback—thanks Walt. I spoke to the artists of Batman Year One: Scarecrow; I spoke to Mark Waid at great length about how well he wrote the Flash and the FF (that was more for Jeff as he is a fan of the Fantastic Four) and told him I would like to see him write for the HAWKMAN series (a personal favorite), to which he responded that he would love to “do” Hawkman. I was a total fan-boy.

I met with a former student, Charles, who is a comic geek to a degree. He, like Jeff, was more interested in independent characters and the humorous (albeit sick humor) of the industry. Still, Charles sported a mighty Green Lantern T-Shirt (hopefully Kyle, Charles, not that boring Hal Jordan crap). All in good fun.

I spent more than I should have spent on myself; grabbed a few Christmas Presents, a birthday present for one of my favorite nephews; and enjoyed the company of a good friend in Jeff.

I have a Masters plus 54 hours and Jeff has a doctorate and if we are intelligent enough to be comic geeks, then we wear it proudly.

I sympathize with our wives, so I thought these lyrics from Ookla the Mok’s big hit, Stop Talking About Comic Books, Or I’ll Kill You,” would suffice:

”Stop talking about comic books or I’ll kill you.
I don’t care if the Hulk could defeat the Man of Steel.
I’m gonna rearrange your face if you continue to debate
whether Logan’s claws could pierce Steve Roger’s shield.
I just couldn’t care less if they bring back Kraven,
and I don’t care if Spiderman’s a clone.
Stop spending all our cash
on back issues of the Flash,
or I swear to God you’re gonna spend your twilight years alone.
Okay, you can call them graphic novels,
but they’re still just plain old comic books to me,
and I don’t see why you must always ceaselessly discuss
the post-Zero hour continuity.
For the last time I won’t read those Kirby Xmen.
You know that I prefer the work he did for DC.
And if you don’t want to die
you’ll lose that Overstreet Price Guide,
Comic Buyer’s Guide, and Wizard Magazine,
but please get the new Invisibles for me.”

My father went to comic convention in Florida to snag me a signed Batman book, very cool Dad—by the way; and he told me he was somewhat frightened of the geeks that he saw. “Lots of weirdos, there” I seem to recall him saying.

And just imagine that somewhere in that gene pool, another weirdo exists.

And I would never narc my very cool father out for being a Captain Marvel fan—Shazam! (Just to let you know—I grabbed a Jackson Bostwick autograph—the actor who played Captain Marvel on the 1970s television show).

The Legacy lives on…..