Last week a friend of mine had a birthday and one of his obsessions is old comic books. Specifically comic books from The Silver Age. It just so happens that I have a
shit-load large number of those comics so I took a few boxes with me and we had a great time going through them. It was amazing how he knew all of the villains and even more amazing how many heroes and villains I remembered.
I began collecting Marvel Comics when I was eighteen. They cost $0.15 a piece back then and I finally had a good job. Every week I’d buy a few and spend a little extra to fill in the missing ones from my collection. Within a few years the price started to rise. I stopped buying when they got to $0.40.
I haven’t really looked at the comics in over thirty years. Last night I started organizing and frankly was a little amazed. I have the entire series of The Silver Surfer (1968), Iron Man from number 1 to 200, Daredevil, Avengers, Spiderman from 12 up and so on. It’s an amazing collection.
I’m going to spend this week getting them organized and boxed up properly. I have no idea what I’m going to do with them. They are no longer a passion. We will see.
I was going through them and realized what a stereotypical nerd I was. Captain of the chess team, sang in a choir and collected comic books. Let’s face it, I am white and nerdy.