My older brother Jeff had many of the comic books. I remember glancing at a few (the one that sticks out most in my head features Iron Man locked in his outfit, with people using hand grenades to try to get him out for some reason). And I only recognize him as Iron Man now – had no idea who he was then, nor why anyone would want to blow him up in such a useless fashion.
There were other comic books in his collection – notably B.C. comic strips – that more fully engaged my attention. Somehow it was easier to relate to and understand cavemen, or the denizens of the Kingdom of Id, than it was the people who inhabited the Spiderman universe.
But still, to hear of Stan Lee’s death today at 95, takes me back to my childhood.
Superhero comics could have been my window into the comics world, had it not been for BC and Thor and Clumsy Carp. Looking back, I’m glad I chose the path I did. My personality lends more to the silliness and whimsy I find in comic strips, rather than to the more serious storylines to be found in superhero comics. And maybe there’s silliness and whimsy there too; I’m just glad I took the path I did.
I’ve come to enjoy the fringes of the superhero universe, though I’ve never seen much to draw me into the center of it. Things like The Incredibles, The Iron Giant, and such were to my liking. And the LEGO Batman Movie? Best Batman movie ever made.
One thing always confused me about those comic books though. That name. Stan Lee. Was it a guy being funny with his given name of Stanley? For a kid encountering the two-first-name phenomenon for the first time, it was confusing.
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