Thursday, February 28, 2013

365 Comics...59: Marvel Super Hero Contest Of Champions #2 (1982)

A couple weeks ago I was flipping through a "just in" box of comics at a local used book store when I flipped past this on my way to finding a copy of an old Tower T.H.U.N.D.E.R. Agents (which is pretty much what I was hoping to find).  But after finding my prize, I went flipping back, because there was something about that title, that cover... I had that book.  I also got rid of that book in a 5 cent lawn sale I held when I was eight or nine... where I sold some of my comics for 5 cents.  I don't think I made much more than a dollar.   

While often revisiting things from my childhood only wind up in disappointment, in cases like this, where I had pretty much forgotten all about said thing, a cascade of memories wash over me.  Terribly vague, non-specific memories mind you, but accompanying those memories is the sense of familiarity and the comfort of youth.  This second issue (the only one I had of the series) is a dose of rediscovery, a constant barrage of "hey I kind of remember that", but moreover I remember reading it in my bedroom, the one I had before we moved just before I turned 11, with the orange low pile carpet and the configuration of my bedroom desk, dresser and bed.  I remember my clock radio and the red curtains and my closet. It just spirals out, thinking of my sister's room and her white wicker furniture, the upstairs hallway light (which I used to read by after "lights out" and probably ruined my eyes, just like my mom said it would).  I remember the stairwell where I used to play He-Man and the stereo cabinet which always had stuff on top of it so we couldn't listen to records easily.  There's so many things I start thinking about having nothing to do with the comic, things I haven't thought about in 25 years. 

Comic books for me have unbelievable power, they're a time portal to my past as much as they are entertainment and sometimes-obsession.  That could very well be the reason why I've never stopped reading them, they're like storage devices for little nuggets of myself.  Time capsules to perhaps be reopened and discovered once again years down the road.

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