My love of comic books started at a pretty young age. I have an older sister, Diana, who’s now a bone surgeon, who loved Star Trek, the original version and all things DC Comics and was willing to let her younger siblings get their grimy hands all over the new Aquaman. Back then comics were only 15 cents and it was easy to get piles of the latest Batman or Superman.
We had an enormous packing crate full of them and even though our washing machine regularly overflowed and destroyed a few, the crate always seemed to be full of further adventures of my heroes. I was never into the Archie-style comic books.
I like the heroes who were willing to do what was right without ever resorting to killing anyone.
My grown son, Louie who’s now 24 came to the last ComiCon Chicago with me and I was amazed and delighted to see that he knew every character in the large convention hall, even if that had to include Marvel comic book characters. Anyone who’s into comic books will get that one. You pick a team and you stick with it for life. His enthusiasm matched mine and I remember thinking, we have a common language that I gave him. This is my legacy and I’m okay with that.
That’s right, I’m a closet nerd. My living room is painted Superman blue and I’ve been shopping for an orange couch, plus I have a few DC Comic classic posters I’ve been getting framed. More than one friend has pointed out that my living room is every 10 year old’s dream. I’m okay with that too. Life’s too short to make everything HGTV-bland-beige just so everyone who comes through the door likes it. It’s not my goal to cater to the world.
William Shatner is coming to this convention and I’m hoping to score an autograph for my sister, who I’m seeing in just a couple of weeks. The only signature that could surpass his would be Adam West, the original Batman and Shatner’s autograph would be the best hostess gift one grateful, younger nerdy sister can give another.