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box one hundred Sitting in my living room, I heard a soft bump against my front door. When I looked out the window I saw a woman walking down my front walk and returning to her postal jeep parked out front. Waiting on the other side of the door was a box. Inside of that box were one hundred comic books that I had won online in an auction. Personally I saw that as a great way to start the day. That will probably be the last auction for a time, but one hundred issues for twenty dollars was something that I had to have even though I didn't know exactly what I was getting. A few key books had been mentioned and I was willing to pay for those even though the rest might mean nothing to me. Then when I started to sort them, I found that there were only fifteen that I didn't like and or want. I can live with that kind of ratio. Most of the collection was from twenty years ago and it was interesting to see what had changed in the industry since then. Back then was when I started collecting on a regular basis, but what I remember and what I saw in front of me differed slightly. My point of view then was much smaller and forty cents at the time was something to be taken seriously when I didn't have an income. What money I did have came from my birthday and Christmas. I wonder how I made so little money go so far. I guess that also explains why I read one comic as many times as I did. As simple or as cliche as it might be, it meant more to me then. |