Magic Teeth Dailies

Why do we love comics? That’s actually an interesting question to answer.

 

Maybe we all remain kids at heart who want to stay close to their childhood and revive our memories. Adult lives are sometimes not easy nor fun. This is what I’m thinking at this very moment as I’m currently looking online at DIY home repair kits. The truth is I should stop kidding myself and just anti up and call Handyman Boca Raton before I hurt myself or someone else. I digress, my mind is wandering, thinking about my favorite childhood comics. Where are they? I haven’t read them for years now.

 

Suddenly, I remember where they are. In my mom’s basement. And my mom doesn’t live anywhere close. She lives in a medium-sized city 500 miles away from here. I want to go there. But how?

 

I’m a 32 years old married man, with a young daughter who just turned one. My business is growing steadily, my baby is taking a lot of my time, my wife too. Where will I find time? And should I try that hard to find time to go read some stupid comic books?

 

Months go by, and I’m still thinking about it. I have this urge to call my mum, say I’m coming, book a plane ticket, land there, get to her house and go straight to the boxes containing my old comics. I need to do it. How long do I need? One week should be fine. That’s long without seeing my daughter, but that’s manageable, we’ll skype, we’ll facetime, we’ll facebook. Or we’ll use the good old phone.

 

Long story short, I’m there. I know exactly what I’m looking for, I grab the flashlight, go to the cold, dark basement, find the boxes, bring them upstairs and open them. I was looking for some old Mickey Mouse comics from the 70’s. I bought them at a yard sale 20 years ago, when I was twelve.  Not only did I find them but I also found plenty of books and other comics that I didn’t even remember. It’s like finding Treasure Island.

 

Now comes the interesting part: reading, devouring comics. Here is how i do it: I grab food, drinks, go to my small one-person bed in the kid bedroom, turn on the light and start reading. It’s late, everything is quiet, I love it. My mom is already fast asleep since she’s working tomorrow. I’m alone. Deliciously alone.

 

Hours go by slowly, I don’t even know what time it is anymore, nor do I care. It might be 2am. I’m reading, thinking at the same time, remembering a lot of memories: recent and old ones, happy and sad ones. I also remember people: my parents when they were still young and married to each other, grand-parents, friends, cousins, uncles…some of them are not alive anymore. Things have changed a lot. But I still remember and those memories live in my mind and will continue to live on.

Does all this even matter? I’m not sure. So many questions. Let’s not think about it and read comics.