Last week I admitted that I am indeed a closet alien fan. Well, I'm on a confession roll - I am also a closet Spider-Man fan. Specifically "The Amazing Spider-man". I have had an actual subscription to that particular title for some years now, and I am scheduled to receive it for several years to come. Whew. Felt good to get that off my chest. Unfortunately, Spider-Man was just a gateway comic for me. Now I'm signed up to receive "The Invincible Iron Man" and "X-Men" as well, which I have been making a weekly trip to Shinders for. Subscribing ends up being much more cost-effective, boys and girls. Not only because you get a discount off the stand price, and not only because you save time and gas and wear and tear on your Jeep, but because you avoid the temptation of picking up eight or nine other titles while you're at the shop. Because if you're like yours truly, and cannot stand gaps in storylines, you'll find that trying to keep up with not missing an issue can quickly become a part time job, and one that quickly starts to suck you dry and has your lovely and long-suffering wife looking at you askance and questioning your already questionable reasoning skills.
So that's why this illustration was so much fun for me to do. It was a web design promo piece for the studio I used to work for, all done up like a comic cover.
And because I've always been good at jumping from topic to topic, on to something completely different! My family attended a benefit for the Pay It Forward fund for women's cancer this past weekend at the Medina Entertainment Center in memory of the dearly loved and badly missed Sue Nelson-Hoffmann (aka "the Mutha", "Mamma Sue") who died August 2005 of a tremendously aggressive breast cancer. The people at Pay It Forward take an often overlooked aspect of cancer and do a tremendous job of helping cancer-stricken women at a point in their lives when things can be very bleak and lonely.
I was taking Sue to the hospital one day in the summer of '05 to pick up her medication. The cancer was well into her bones by this time and she couldn't sit or walk well at all. As I was helping her towards the door, she nudged me and said "Kel, that woman needs help." I looked up at where she was pointing and there was a lady in an ankle cast struggling to get a walker in her trunk. I helped Sue over, and she and the ankle cast lady each leaned on the car and chatted while I struggled to fold up the walker-thingie and get it into the lady's trunk. By the time I had managed to get the cumbersome thing stowed, Sue had the lady laughing and telling a story about how she had ended up with the cast in the first place and that the hospital people had no problem sending her home with some monster walker contraption with no care for how she was to get it home. We parted and as Sue and I entered the hospital, Sue now winded and obviously tired and in pain, said to me "It's the small things, Kel - you get to a point and all you want is for someone to hold the door open for you. The small things are what wear you out, and all you want is someone to be alert and give a hand. Thanks for helping her out."
I don't remember if I said anything.