This past week I was felled by the flu. I was literally knocked on my ass in a way that I haven’t experienced for many moons. Despite the warnings of a bad flu season and ample opportunity to get a flu shot, I shined it on. I laughed in the face of the news reports and planned my January like a man impervious to the ills of mere mortals. I sat idly by, telling myself that it wouldn’t get me, that I for whatever reason would be spared the fever, chills, cough, etc. Not going to happen to me, I told myself. No way. But it did. And before I could say Dayquil, I was caught in the cold and unforgiving grip of a flu that had me wanting to do nothing more than lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and pray for a merciful demise. And through all of it, I still wanted to read comics.
I’m not exactly the best patient (my wife will attest to this), but I am an opportunist and an improviser. Simply put, I’ve been known to
make the best of a bad situation. And that’s where comics come in. You see sick me used this ghastly flu and forced time in the prone position as an opportunity to catch up on the ol’ “to read” stack of both analog and digital comics. I may have lost my appetite as a result of this flu, but my appetite for comics seems to grow when I’m forced into a state of convalescence. So read comics I did, until I was all caught up and on the mend. I even managed to reread The Infinity Gauntlet, a book I hadn’t read since the last great pandemic. It seemed that maybe somehow this flu was a blessing in disguise.
For me comics have a special way of soothing me that nothing else can when I’m feeling under the weather. I’m pretty sure it goes back to my childhood when my parents would bring me comics as part of a sort of “get better” kit made up of simply bottles of 7-Up and stacks of comics. What a wonderful thing. Now I’m not sure where this tradition started, but I suspect that the tradition of bringing sick kids comics comes from a time when comics were in pharmacy spinner racks. A parent would go to get a kid some medicine or whatever salve was in style at the time and in turn purchase some comics. It’s this tradition that I attribute to my earliest comic book memories. And it’s a tradition I’ve tried to repeat with my own kids, eagerly presenting them with comics at the slightest spike in body temperature. Unfortunately, I think my efforts to indoctrinate the kids via the “comics for sick kids” method hasn’t quite had the same affect on them as it did on me, at least I don’t think it has.
Truth is, before I even had kids, I envisioned passing down my comic book fandom and geek traditions to my offspring. I imagined that I’d mold them into little versions of myself and teach them just the right movie quotes to use in certain circumstances. And yes, I imagined offering them the comfort of comics in times of flu, colds and the dreaded strep throat. What I was unaware of is the fact that in reality there’s no way to predict whether or not your kid will like comics, sci-fi flicks or anything I tend to hold dear. Truth is, every time my kids get sick I attempt to present them with comics, as if to say “These will make your feel better” or “These will be the catalyst for a genuine love of comics for decades to come.” Unfortunately, they usually take the comics from me with a smile, set them to the side and go back to whatever gadget or I-gizmo they were playing with when I came in in the first place.
I guess what I’m getting at here (and maybe it’s all just the result of a fever dream I had during the height of this flu) is the unwelcome realization that my children’s relationship with comics isn’t really playing out as I’d hoped it would. I shouldn’t care really, but I do. Comics are important to me. In this particular instance, they provide comfort in a time of pain and “suffering,” transient as that pain and suffering might be. But for my kids, comics are a small facet of something much bigger, something that is perhaps more interesting to them then the printed page itself. My experience is that comics came first and the rest is all an offshoot of those blessed books. It’s different for the young whippersnappers with their newfangled devices. Can’t really blame a 7-year-old for choosing to watch the Avengers movie on his or her iPad when given the choice between that and “lifeless” comics. Kids today. Damn.
In the past few days, I’ve come out of the fog of the aforementioned flu and am finally seeing the world though the eyes of a healthy comics fan. I’m getting back to normal and am grateful to have had the company of the fictional folks who inhabit the pages of my beloved comics. Wolverine, you helped me get through it and I’m thankful for that. Always will be. And though it’s probably a lost cause, I can’t help but think that there’s something of value in keeping the comics when your sick tradition alive, despite the resistance of this entitled new generation of young punks. Sure, my son will probably remember me as the crazy old dude who forced soda pop and comics on him whenever he had the slightest case of sniffles, but I’m okay with that.
Gabe Roth is a TV writer living in Los Angeles.
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There is a weird connection between illness and comics. At MorrisonCon Grant along with several other creators talked about their initial exposure to comic, and for many of them it could be traced to being sick or hospitalized. I’ve heard this story numerous times from a lot of people.
It’s strange *cue X-Files music
Nice article, by the way.
Dang kids today… maybe you can’t blame them for wanting to watch Avengers on their 9 inch iPad screen. but I’ll blame them all I want. The image in my minds eye is always far more exciting. 🙂
Gabe, I can’t stand to read when I get low-down terrible sick. Half of that is because, germophobe that I am, I think I’m saturating each page with my sick germs, and can never go back to the book again or I’ll get sick again. Yeah, I’m that crazy.
However, regarding the kids thing, I’m the same way. Visions of my kids poring through my collection and eating up (figuratively) great comics have been dashed. They’ll occassionally see something or have me read a Star Wars comic, but it’s not something they seem to want to invest in. It was easier for us because comics were, aside from TV and Starlogs, pretty much the only artistic form of entertainment. There’s just too much to distract kids today.
So as my kids and I have grown older, I realize that I don’t need to hold onto my Incredible Hulks #200-400, or the really bad runs of Captain America after the first volume ended and Brubaker’s run began. I’m keeping what I like for myself. If they want to read, great. They’ll read my best of the best.
I don’t know if you read this a couple of years ago, but someone wrote a great article about trying to get her son to wear a Luke Skywalker Halloween costume instead of an Anakin. She realized that she had to let go of the idea that his idea of a cool hero wasn’t something she grew up with, but with who HE was growing up with. That article really helped me understand this “condition” we parents must endure. And just get over it.
As for my kids, fine, ignore my glorious collection it’s taken me 30+ years to perfect. Heck, ignore even my Walt Disney Comics. Just as well. I don’t want them breathing their sick germs on my Batmans.
Awesome article. My love affair with comics started when I had the flu. I was real small and my dad set one of his many boxes by my bedside, and I got to tear into the McFarlane “Web of Spiderman” run, followed by some Miller “Wolverine”. I couldn’t have been older than 8, and I haven’t stopped since.
Except for the Clone Saga, because seriously.
McFarlane’s “Web of Spider-man”? Damn I’m old.
Comics + Illness was one of my first introductions too. Two years ago, my girlfriend and I got into a pretty nasty car crash and I was held up in bed for several days. During that time I poured through over 100 issues–60 of them made up the complete Y: The Last Man series. It sucked not be able to walk, but the comics made the time pleasant. In fact, when I think back on those days, I think fondly.
As for the children following in Dad’s footsteps, I do not have any kids of my own yet (only 21), but I have tried to get my younger brother into them. He likes the idea of buying them, but when I’m home and I ask him to read with me he would rather play his computer games…I still hold hope for my future children.
I’ve come to the cold, hard realization that my vast, comics library will NEVER be the priceless treasure for my adult children or my grandchildren I thought it would be. Now I consider it to be an augmentation to my 401K; Action figures, comics, and rare posters will be used to pay bills, finance fun, and comfort me in my old age. More’s the pity.
In 1965 I was laid low for weeks by Chicken Pox (get well soon Barbara Walters) and my father came home one day with Jules Feiffer’s The Great Comic Book Heroes and I never looked back.
My Golden Age was the Silver Age. Begun in ’58, and I’m still a fanboy.
Dear lord, please let my children in the unforeseeable future be nerds. I’ll have no idea what to do if they’re not.
Kids be damned!!! I’m keeping my stash so I have something to read when I’m old and grey. Considering the majority of stuff published by the big 2 today is not worth rereading, i’m keeping my classic 70’s and 80’s stuff for that reason alone. By then I’m be so senile and have such a bad memory,all the old stories will feel like new again.
This is amazing, that so many had this as their 1st experience with comics. One of my earliest memories is being laid up with the flu at about 4 years old, and my mom coming home with a Jack Kirby Sandman comic. Wish I still had that one!