Recently in About Me Category

After years of reading about Isotope Comics in San Francisco and reading various interviews with the owner, James Sime, I finally indulged myself in a trip to his unique store.  James was sitting at the counter when I arrived, as friendly and enthusiastic about comics as I am.  It’s a good quality for an owner to have.  I had a brief feeling of Déjà Vu after meeting James, who is well known from CBR, Flickr, Twitter, and various podcast interviews.  Never before had I met a store owner who is well known on the Internet!

Within seconds of my arrival we started talking about Doctor Strange—after I spotted his costume hanging in the balcony.  We both agreed that the current Strange series is somewhat lacking.  In fact, James’ theory is that anything with the title “Strange” isn’t all that good.  There was the JMS series a few years ago where Marvel attempted to reboot the good doctor.  And if you remember the 1990s era comics where Doc split into two entities—one called Strange—this theory seems spot on!  We both agreed that Brian K Vaughan’s The Oath series was one of Doc’s finest tales.

Isotope’s interior design is equally friendly.  There are no long white boxes that you have to step over as you walk around.  It does not look like a refuge for seedy characters.  It is a store where you feel comfortable looking around at cool things  The store is brightly lit, there are comfortable seats where you can read stuff, and they have interesting graphic novels on display everywhere.  They have new comics as well as mini-comics.  There is also a selection of original art on display.

Isotope is famous for having unique events where creators come to do signings.  James can really think out of the box and tries to make these events special—by offering limited edition pint glasses for Darwyn Cooke or scotch tastings for Warren Ellis.  James started getting these creators to create a drawing on toilet seat covers; I’m sure it started off as a lark, but now Isotope’s upper wall is covered with dozens of them.  And James has so many, he can’t display the entire collection at once.  There’s a Warren Ellis piece featuring Spider Jerusalem right next to one by Darick Robertson, and Mark Millar drawing his rendition of Superman.

This toilet seat drawn by Darwyn Cooke makes me supremely envious.  It’s just perfect and captures everything great about Cooke’s style.  I showed this picture to my wife Teresa (who is not a comics fan) and she instantly recognized Catwoman.  That’s a testament to Cooke’s ability to draw the character in an iconic form.  Teresa wondered why no one has made a business out of selling toilet seat covers with images?  There probably is one, but not with comic characters.  I’d certainly buy this one if DC made this a licensed product.  But I wouldn’t use a backhoe to steal it.

I only spent an hour at Isotope before I had to return to work.  I bought a few great collections, Northlanders (vol 1 & 2, awesome stuff) and Criminal (2 volumes).  If you work in the financial district as I do, it’s really a convenient trip.  You can get on any outbound Muni at Embarcadero, travel to the Van Ness stop, walk up to Fell, make a left and walk 2-3 blocks to the store at 326 Fell Street. 

When I was in my 20s, I always had a fantasy vision of what my ideal comics store would be like.   I always imagined a place where collections were readily available, top-notch creators would come and socialize with fans.  And perhaps share a drink or two on special occasions.  James Sime is my idol—he not only dreamed about such a place, he made it into a reality!  Nuff said!

Links:  Isotope Comics, James Sime on Twitter

My family moved around a lot when I was a kid; we lived in several places in California, Alaska, and in 1974, my parents moved our family to Corpus Christi, Texas.  It was a real culture shock for me to move into what they call The Bible Belt. 

I went from having lots of friends at my old home to having none.  I had to adjust to life at Hamlin Middle School, where a strange concoction of Rednecks (aka the White kids), Mexican-Americans, and African-Americans attempted to get through to high school.  Compared to the Norman Rockwell-esque school I had attended in Anchorage, I was faced with kids who seemed like adults.  They were selling drugs between classes and talking about wild parties the night before.  Violence seemed to be ready to erupt at any minute—the Rednecks eyed the black kids with steam pouring out of their nostrils as they walked near each other.  I belonged to no group. I felt like I existed in the Phantom Zone. 

I was lucky to have one thing in my life remain constant: comic books.  And in those days (before specialty stores), my senses were poised to detect comics wherever I could find them.  I was like Kraven the Hunter wherever I went.  I had scoped out three places that I could reach on my bike: a drugstore, a supermarket, and a 7-Eleven.  All three received comics each week, although only the 7-Eleven specialized in monster magazines from Marvel and Warren.  One day at the supermarket, I found Howard the Duck #1 on the lower rack of the magazine stand.  I had to reach between a lady’s legs to grab it.  I had no idea about the speculation fever on this comic, it was just special to me because Howard had first appeared in Man-Thing.  Howard’s tag-line, Trapped In A World He Never Made, seemed like my life at the time.

All of this was happening when I was thirteen years old.  I hadn’t really known anyone else my age who was as fanatical about comics as I was.  I certainly didn’t know of any adults who read comics (outside of the comics professionals in New York City). 

One day, I read an article in the newspaper about a special store in Corpus Christi that only sold comic books!  I asked my Mom to drive me over there. I don't recall the exact location, but it was in an older suburban area, probably a house that was converted into a store. Inside were dozens of boxes of back-issue comic books. We met the owner, a Mexican-American man who was also a Judge in Corpus Christi. Judge Margarito Garza.

This was a historic occasion!  For the first time, I met an adult who was also a comic book collector!  Not only that, he was a well respected person in the community.  My enthusiasm burst out of my mouth, a constant stream of chatter about this or that character.  My Mom seemed both amused by the Judge and impressed by the store.  We talked with him about the recent Wonder Woman TV movie starring Lynda Carter.  I’m paraphrasing from 30 year old memories, but he said:  One thing about that movie didn’t work for me.  Wonder Woman is walking down the street in that outfit, and every guy just walks right by her.  If any woman dressed like that and walked by, I would definitely take a look!

His store seemed like paradise.  The Judge didn’t sell new comics, only back issues, but he had all the ones I lusted after.  All 18 issues of Silver Surfer were in the back issue bins, along with the Kree-Skrull War issues of Avengers, and all kinds of King-Size Annuals I had wanted to buy.  The walls were adorned with posters, including some reproductions of famous comic book covers the Judge had drawn himself. The one he did for SHIELD #1 looked so interesting that it led me to Jim Steranko's work.

My money didn’t go very far in Judge Garza’s store.  I made several return trips.  Since either the Judge or his patient wife were there running things, my Mom felt safe with having me visit there.  One day I found them preparing a stack of comics for another customer, and saw an item that looked interesting.  It was a fanzine called the Comic Reader.  I had never seen a fanzine before.  It was a mystery to me how you could even buy one!  But it was fantastic, with a neat cover and loaded with news on upcoming comics.

I think my Mom was worried about how much time I spent with comics.  She probably remembered the newspaper articles from the 50s about Wertham and Seduction of the Innocent.  The Judge did me a great favor by explaining to my Mom that comics were good for kids.  Contrary to popular belief, comics had good moral values; they kept young people out of trouble.  (Which was true in those days.)  There it was—comics had been stamped with a seal of approval for my Mom—by the ultimate authority figure.

We left Corpus Christi in 1976 to return to California.  I was relieved to get out.  My parents even seemed very relieved to leave that world behind.  I didn’t really miss anything about that area—except for the Judge and his wonderful store.

Note: This is an adaption of an article I originally wrote in 2006.

A reader named Corando Gallegos left a comment on my original post with their memories:

…the Judge's name was Judge Margarito Garza. Even though I grew up in Alice (a town about an hour west of Corpus Christi), my mom would come to Corpus once a month and leave us at this haven of comic books. It was located down McArdle and Airline and was there for the longest time. Unfortunately, after the Judge died awhile back the store was sold and closed and is not there anymore. My brother and I would spend all day there reading and looking for the right combination of issues we wanted. Even worse, I moved away for awhile and did not realize what had happened to this place until much later.  The Judge himself was the biggest comic fan I knew and while he was strict with his customers he was fair and his store had it all!  Now fortunately, there are a few places again in Corpus to buy comics but nothing like this one where you hang out lose yourself in the world of superheroes and science fiction.

Visit Judge Margarito Garza’s Wikipedia page to learn more about him and his superhero creation, Relampago! 

Thank you to his friends and son Lawrence who wrote me a few years ago.  Nuff said!

My Dad, after he retired, hung out in the garage a lot.  Didn’t matter if it was winter or summer, if he wasn’t playing golf, Dad was in the garage.  He worked on projects once in a while, but most of the time, he read novels.  Any good two-fisted book was good solid entertainment: Louis L’Amour was his favorite, but he also liked John D. MacDonald.  He’d read a few books a week in that garage.  I always wondered what was so great about reading in there.

Well, today, on my birthday (48th), I finally know.  Because my Marvels (and my entire comic book collection) have migrated to the garage.

This wasn’t how I pictured things going when I was young.  I saw a picture in an early issue of FOOM, from a kid who had a “FOOM room” with Marvel mania posted over each inch of his bedroom.  There was a gigantic Green Goblin picture right about his bed.  It wasn’t a poster that Marvel sold, it was either something this guy drew or it was a blow-up of a panel.  It was ultra-cool.  I swore on my copy of Giant-Size Super-Stars #1 that I would one day have a FOOM room as well.

My wife’s always put up with my Giant-Size nerdiness without too much trouble.  She let me buy as many comics or posters or toys as I wanted.  I’ve kept a good number of long boxes for the past 15 years, and they’ve moved with us to six different locations.  Up until now, I’ve been fortunate.  The comics have always had their own room, a room that was meant for me, and no one else.  My wife might wander in from time to time and ask, What is the theme of this room?  I’d just laugh and say, My religion: Comics!  Even with an entire room, I had to stop collecting monthly comics in favor of getting trades.  I simply didn’t have more room for long boxes.

This year, I’ve lost the great battle to keep the comics inside.  Our new house is a bit smaller than our previous ones, with fewer bedrooms.  Something had to go in the garage, and that was the comic collection.  Fortunately, we have a pretty good sized garage, enough room for two cars and plenty of stuff.  The long boxes are stacked against one wall where I can easily get to them.  (Nothing too valuable, mind you, so don’t go thinking I’ve got FF #1 in there.)  On the wall, I’ve hung my little Alex Ross Marvel poster shrine.  The first one is the MARVELS poster by Alex Ross, which he did shortly after the Marvels mini-series in 1994.  It has all my favorite characters from the Bronze Age.

Next is another Ross poster, Marvel Universe: Classic Seventies.  Over ten years had passed between the previous poster and this one, which is executed with a lot more skill than Ross had in 1994.  I absolutely love it, all the off-beat 1970s characters are here: Captain Marvel, Iron Fist, Punisher, Moon Knight, Master of Kung Fu, Ms Marvel, etc.  Even Howard the Duck is there at the bottom!

At the end I have a poster that Ross worked on with John Romita Sr,  Spider-Man versus the Green Goblin. It’s taken from a great angle, the perspective is from the ground looking up at this battle raging among the skyscrapers.

Now all of the long boxes are assembled here, with the Alex Ross Marvel gods looking over them.  One of my friends from the Comics and Comix store in Citrus Heights (where I worked in the early 80s), JW Chapman, always described his retirement this way:  I’ll crack open the long boxes and start reading from the A’s.  I have the same dream, I just hope I will be able to retire one day.  One thing we never thought of, though, was how hard it is to haul the long boxes around when you have a bad back.  You don’t have this issue with digital comics.  But digital comics don’t have that sweet aroma a long box does when you crack it open.

Instead of a FOOM room, I have a FOOM garage.  I think what I pictured as kid, people like Alex Ross or Mark Waid have achieved, given the pictures of their homes that I’ve seen on CBR.  I wanted that, but I couldn’t have it.  I have to accept that, it’s just part of getting older. 

My destiny was to be like my Father before me, a man who explores his dreams in the garage.  Nuff said.

I was born in 1961, the year that Marvel published Fantastic Four #1, which according to my wife, makes me one of the oldest nerds alive.  

The 1966 Marvel Super Heroes TV show was my first exposure to the mythos of Spider-Man, Thor, Iron Man, Hulk, and the Fantastic Four.  Combined with the Adam West Batman TV show, that drove me to buy comics at the store.

It wasn't until 1970 that Marvel really hooked me for life.  My family had moved to Anchorage, Alaska, because my Dad worked for Exxon during the construction of the pipeline. During the winter there was plenty of time to read comics. I walked into a Circle-K-mart and found Marvel Tales #29 sitting on the rack. This "Double-Feature Special" was one heck of a deal: two Spidey stories (reprinted from Amazing Spider-Man 39-40) plus a Dr. Strange story for twenty-five cents! The cover looked suspicious to me; I never believed that Spider-Man would be unmasked before a villain. This cover had to be like one of those gimmicky DC covers, right?

Hoo-boy, was I wrong. This two-part Spider-Man tale was the greatest super-hero story that I had ever read! Even though it was my first introduction to the Green Goblin and Norman Osborne, I had no trouble following the plot. I couldn't get over how methodically the Green Goblin had taken out Spidey: first, by blunting his Spider-Sense during a robbery. Second, following him around New York City and discovering his secret identity was Peter Parker. And third, attacking him in front of his own house in Queens, with frail Aunt May just a few yards away behind a fog-enshrouded window. This kind of deal just didn't happen in DC Comics! Lex Luthor with his smart-ass brain didn't ever figure out Clark Kent's identity and the Joker never tracked down Batman to Wayne Manor.

I was convinced that I had made the most important discovery of my life.  Marvel Comics had more drama, more flair, more impact than most movies, tv shows, or books that I had read.  I started buying almost everything on Marvel's Bullpen Bulletin checklist: Avengers, X-Men, Iron Man, Hulk, Thor, you name it.  I bought the Marvel Monster titles and the black and white magazines.  I followed Stan Lee and Roy Thomas anywhere they lead.  And then came FOOM.

Imagine being a kid in the 1970s, a Marvel zombie who sent $2.50 to a P.O. Box in New York City months earlier, going to his mailbox and finding a large envelope that you see here. The Hulk's green smiling head plastered all over, with your name and address inside his mouth. It was the membership kit for F.O.O.M. (Friends Of Old Marvel), Marvel's fan organization. Marvel had tried a fan club before in the 1960s, called MarvelMania, but it failed because it was run outside of the company. F.O.O.M. was orchestrated inside the company by Jim Steranko (at least for the first four issues), the incredible writer-artist who worked on S.H.I.E.L.D. and Captain America. Steranko's imprint made FOOM special. Besides the envelope, there was an incredible poster (depicting Black Bolt, Angel, Captain America, Hulk, Silver Surfer, etc.) by the master, some stickers, and the first issue of the magazine. On the front cover, Stan Lee spouted faux-Shakespearean gibberish about what a great guy I was, just to spend $2.50 on FOOM:

"Here in the hallowed circle thou art truly amongst thy peers-thou art truly welcome-thou art truly safe and secure within the fabled, far-flung Fellowship of Foom!"

And then, in 1974, Marvel created the Giant-Size books.  Their answer to the Big Mac and the Big Gulp, Marvel packed 68 pages of material into one thick comic. What better way to start than by having "The Wildest Thing vs. Hulk Battle of All" in Giant-Size Superstars #1?  The lead story was written by Gerry Conway, drawn by Rich Buckler, and had nifty pin-up pages and reprint stories.  I loved these books more than anything else, hence the title of this blog.

No matter what happened to Marvel, my fanship never wavered.  I stayed during the exodus of Marvel's greatest writers from the 1970s: Steve Englehart, Steve Gerber, Don McGregor, etc.  I stayed when Jim Shooter demanded that each character's origin had to be repeated each issue ("Ever since I got bit by that darn radioactive spider...").  OK, I left temporarily when Bob Harras gave the Avengers over to Rob Liefield, but I came back when the Heroes Returned.

My other interests include programming, for that other side of my personality you can view the Attilan Software Factory.  I love video games, books, movies, and too many things that require me sitting on my ass.  Somehow despite all of this I am married to a wonderful woman who helps me remain partially grounded in the real world.  Yes, you can be a nerd and be married, but be prepared to give up some closet space.

You can follow me on Twitter under my non de plume, Kid Flash.

Nuff said.