Welcome to Tales from the Longbox and thanks from coming by.
In this first “real” post, before I actually start writing about comic books, I am going to tell you about myself by establishing my comic book “cred”, for lack of a better term. I will do this by telling you the story of how I got started reading comics in the first place.
Before I start, you might need to get some Kleenex, or a pillow, depending on how this translates to the web. So go ahead, I’ll wait….
No really, go ahead.
Back already? Ok then, here we go.
When I was a real little kid, as in before preschool, I used to watch Sesame Street and the now defunct Electric Company (HEY YOU GUYS!!!) on TV religiously. I can still vividly remember sitting in front of the TV watching those shows drinking in all the crazy antics of all the characters. Those of you that watched those shows when you were a kid know exactly what I mean. Little did I know that secretly my Parents let me watch those shows so much because I was learning something at the same time!! I mean, how dare they??
Anyway, all this exposure to subversive learning all led to me picking up how to read pretty early. From what my Parents have told me (keep in mind, they are a little biased), I started out reading road signs as we would drive around town. Of course, my Parents wanted to encourage that behavior, so they started getting me all kinds of books to read. I learned to read faster everyday.
Then came comic books. That started when my Dad would take me out on Saturday (after cartoons, of course) to the local newsstand (to you young whippersnappers, that is where you went to get stuff to read before the big box mega-bookstores) to pick up a newspaper or something else to read, maybe get a soda pop, a popsicle, or something . That was one of the ways Dad and I would spend quality time when I was a kid. If I was good, he would even take me over to a local department store and let me pick out a toy to take home. Ahhh those were they days… ?
At that newsstand, right inside the front door was a wonderful circular wire rack full of comics. I was drawn to it immediately, which is exactly why the owners put it there of course. On those racks, I would see characters that I recognized from TV. Reruns of the Batman show from the ‘60’s (Lord help me), reruns of the Superman TV show from the ‘50’s, and the Spider-Man segments from the Electric Company. Dad would let me pick out the comics I wanted, usually one or two, and then we would go on with the rest of our day. I was hooked from that day forward.
My reading really started to take off then. I am sure that the pictures in the comics made things easier. Dad and I would go to that newsstand every week, sometimes twice a week, and he would buy me more comics. I can remember sitting on the couch with Mom or Dad, reading comics to them and explaining to them what was going on those colorful pages.
By the time I was ready for pre-school, I must have had hundreds of comics. They didn’t have bags and boards back then, (GASP!!!) so I had them all stacked up in a big pile in my room. I read the old ones that I had over and over again until I knew them by heart.
By the time I was fifteen, Dad would drive me up to a comic shop I had found out about in a town about twenty miles north. Going I would save up whatever money I had and I would by a months worth at time, savoring each one, trying to make them last until next month. By then I was seriously into collecting. Mom or Dad would even drive around every place in town that had comics, just looking for more. It didn’t matter where, grocery and convenience stores, department stores; wherever I could find them. When I turned sixteen and got my first car, I started driving myself up to that comic shop every week, when new comics would come in.
The rest, as they say, is history. So hear I am (cough, cough) years old and I am stilling collecting and more importantly, reading comic books. I have thousands of comics now (to get an idea, here is a picture of my collection); I am still working on the exact number.
To put this into a timeline context, I have read comics almost everyday of my life since I was about 3 or 4 years old (Except for those three months in high school I dated that cheerleader with the big nose, but I won’t get into that here). I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon, I can assure you. It is just too much of a good thing.
OK, that’s it, that’s my story. That is why I am here with a passion to write for comics. If you are still awake, I hoped you enjoyed this “little” tale, and will come back again.
Thanks for stopping by,
Moz
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