22 April 2010


On Funny Books

When I left home to go off to prep school for the 8th grade, I had an old trunk full of comics, some from the times I had DC subscriptions, others bought at the one store in town—Tilley's—that sold comic books. I'd beg my mom to take me out there about once a week just to by comic books. I didn't put them in little plastic bags or anything, just bought them and stacked them up in the trunk.

When I got back home for the first time—Christmas 1969—they were all gone. My mom claimed to have given them away to "poor kids," but I figure that's probably on the same level as folks who take that dog they don't want to live with a rural aunt and uncle on the farm.

The first time I ever learned how much a copy of Silver Surfer #1 was worth, I just about crapped. My mom was great at finding value in other peoples' discarded junk—wash stands, pie boxes, etc.—but didn't imagine that someday those childish comic books would be worth something to someone. I know I'm not alone in having this experience. I'm just surprised at how much it still bugs me.

Parents: Don't throw your kids' stuff away without asking.

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