My family used to go to my grandparents’ (on Dad’s side) beach house on Long Island Sound once or twice every summer. Sometimes we would go for the Fourth of July, when as often as not all of my aunts and uncles and cousins would be there as well, somehow all under one roof for a long weekend (to be fair we were only ever all under said roof when sleeping, and the rest of the time we were on the beach, or out on the water, or in the backyard eating and drinking, or roaming the neighborhood going down to the park and the combination general store and ice cream parlor, which also sold comics!, but I digress). And sometimes it would just be my nuclear family and my grandparents for a more sedate weeklong visit in August. Sometimes both if we were lucky.
In the summer of ‘91 we made one of our just-us visits and on one of those afternoons my grandmother took little bro and me out for the afternoon. This was a deviation from the norm which always kind of stuck oddly in my brain. I was 16 at the time, old enough to think it was strange but not old enough to either ask what was up or be able to figure it out on my own. My grandmother was always happy to play a more hands-off role in spoiling and indulging us as kids. She would give us some ridiculously easy chore to do, like husking corn on the cob or sweeping sand off the front porch, and then pay us for our labor and send us down to the aforementioned general store, cash in hand and unaccompanied, to buy candy or popsicles or Mad magazine or play Zaxxon or whatever. She was not one to bundle us into the car, drive us into town, and walk around a department store letting us pick out treats (that was my Mom’s mom’s go-to move). Yet that was exactly what happened on the day of this random memory. Grandma took us to I believe three different stores, purely to buy us treats. Weird, but young and dumb and 16 as I may have been, I wasn’t going to argue and/or look a gift horse in the mouth.
(It literally only occurs to me right now as I write this that maybe this had something to do with giving my parents a little space? My very little bro would have been 3, and I don’t remember what the deal was with him, maybe my grandfather took him to the playground. But having two teenagers and a toddler would be hard on anyone, and we all know now in hindsight that in the summer of ‘91 my parents’ marriage was about one year away from imploding; they would drop the bomb announcing their intention to divorce right after the fall break of my freshman semester in late ‘92. So maybe this was my grandmother’s way of throwing a hail mary? Giving my parents a little one-on-one time to enjoy each other’s company and maybe work things out? In my defense my parents played things very close to the vest and absolutely projected at all times that they were happily married and hunky-dory right up until the bottom fell out of everything. But wow, if this conjecture I’m putting together is true, I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to make the connection. Ah well.)
The first place we went was the used book store, which also happened to have old back issue comics for sale. I had been to this store before, ever since my aunt had discovered it and introduced me to it, in the mid-80’s. I haven’t mentioned it before now in this series because (despite how it may seem otherwise) this isn’t an exhaustive recounting of every comic I ever acquired, and good stuff always came of my once-a-year trips to this store but nothing especially noteworthy. We also went to the toy store, I’m pretty sure, and one other place which might have just been a drug store? Clearly I’m fuzzy on the details. Best I can recall, now that I put my mind to it, it was probably something like this: grandma asked where I wanted to go, I said the used book store. She asked little bro, he said the toy store. And then while we were out she popped into the drug store for, I don’t know, sunscreen or batteries or whatnot. I’m only belaboring the three store angle because ultimately they all ended up involving comic book acquisitions.
The used book store connection is self-evident. At the toy store there was a ‘comic book collector’s starter set’ which consisted of a sturdy cardboard box of the proper dimensions to store comics standing up, and like five random recent issues. It was all Marvel-branded, the box decorated with black and white line art of Spidey and the Hulk, and my brother decided he wanted it, so into the cart it went. Then finally at the drug store they happened to have a spinner rack of new comics, and in addition to the moldy oldies I had gotten at our first stop, I decided to ask grandma if I could get one or two new ones. She agreed (yeah, come on, she had to be worried on some level about her son’s marriage splitting up and as responding to the emotional crisis that on one was addressing head on with the tried and true white folk stand by, throwing money at it) and so I got my hands on this:
So here we are, then, at long last, at essentially the intersection point between my lifelong love of Marvel comics and modernity. Sure, this comic came out literally thirty years ago, but we now know that the Infinity Gauntlet became foundational in shaping the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which is the purest distillation of modern Marvel. You can dive back through the archives and see the earliest, roughest outlines of things, and go down an infinite number of rabbitholes only to find the vast majority of them are circular loops that return everything to the status quo, but once you get a sense of quo, exactly, is status, you’ll possess a mental model which matches pretty closely to both what I think of as “Marvel Comics” after a lifetime of fandom and “the MCU” as it’s evolved into pop culture dominance. Infinity Gauntlet was an event comic in much the same way Infinity War/Endgame were event movies, so I think it’s worth elevating as a significant signpost in my fandom. The fact that I stumbled over it in a random retail setting while shopping with my grandma is just bizarre enough to be noteworthy, too.
The other thing to point out here is that little bro’s ‘collector starter set’ soon made me realize that I needed my own dedicated storage system for comics. So I also see this particular outing as the turning point where I went from “frequent reader of comics” to “dedicated curator of a comics collection”. That, in turn, had a marked effect on my reading/buying habits, both in terms of quantity and scope, and I will touch on that next post.
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