Hello everyone, hope all is well. I'm guessing that most of you reading this are stymied by today's title. Well don't most of us comic collectors have someone in their lives that gives us a hard time about collecting, I know I did. And that person for me would be my Mom.
You see, she hated my collecting comics and yelled whenever the collection of mine got unruly. Of course unruly to her meant anything over five comics. Heck, before I was ten years old, I had more than five boxes of comics to my name. Now my Mom was proud of the fact that the creativity that spurred me on (partially from my love of reading and comics) led to writing, at least early on. But she always preferred me to be a, that's right...plumber!
I bring this up because today is my Mom's birthday. She's been gone now around thirty years and when she passed, she still wasn't 50 years old. So she never got to see me get published hundreds of times, or smile at the column that I wrote for twelve years for the News-Herald, nor the many novels that I've sold to publishers, nor the many lectures I've given both on the subject of comics and academic subjects as I lectured at Lakeland Community College for over two decades.
Maybe now though, she's looking down at me from heaven and finally smiling to see the wonderful career I've had over the last thirty years. But maybe she's also cringing at the sight of over a hundred boxes of beat-up comics I have in the garage.
Because Moms would do that. So would non-comic ladies, but sometimes they're one and the same.
Take care and adopt a (not one that has to do with plumbers) comic book today!