“What interests me? What interests you, my friend.”
Today’s story is contributed by Jim Zub.
My Dad wasn’t into comic books when I was young. But he knew my brother and I were crazy about them.
It felt like every waking moment was a cavalcade of reading, collecting and nonstop chatter about our favorite characters. He’d bring us along when he went downtown once or twice a month. My brother and I would immediately go to the comic book shop.
I don’t actually ever recall Dad going into the store with us. He’d run his errands and then wait for us outside. He didn’t “get” the comic book thing, didn’t have any interest, and I think staying away from the store kept us from asking him for extra money.
Dad never bought comics for my brother and me. We used the money we earned. And, Dad had zero knowledge of the ins and outs of four-color fandom beyond the occasional episode of Batman or the Incredible Hulk on TV. READ MORE