Comic Conversations

Mr. Ginley struck up a lively conversation about comic books last night.

Anything to not talk about the current state of the union.

And so it was that Betty versus Veronica became an actual topic of discussion, with Mr. Ginley leading the interview:

Mr: Who did you like better, Betty or Veronica?

Me: Betty. Veronica was too much like the girls I knew in high school with too much money and too little empathy for wallflowers like me. Betty seemed nice, if a little vapid.

Mr: Who would you have been attracted to, Archie, Reggie or Jughead?

©1966 K.K. Publications

Me: Archie, by default. Reggie was too snarky, Jughead too dopey. But I wouldn't have been as moony over Archie as the girls in the comics were. I equate him to Richie Cunningham from Happy Days. A nice guy, fairly down-to-earth. But nothing to get the blood pumping through my adolescent veins.

Themes like this have become de rigueur at our home. And I've found myself addressing other mind-blowing questions, such as:

Did you ever want a boyfriend like Ned Nickerson (Nancy Drew's boyfriend)? No, I admired Nancy but Ned was just a prop, really.

Pick one: Speed Racer or Driver X. Meh, I guess Driver X because he was mysterious.

Which superhero did you think was hot? None, I wasn't into superheroes. I'm still not.

At this point, Mr. Ginley points out I have a stash of comic books in the closet from my childhood. There are old Superman comics, many without covers. But these were the ones that belonged to my whole family. There is a bizarre range of themes here, including a Classics Illustrated edition of H.G. Wells' The Food of the Gods, the cover of which still gives me the willies.

©1967 Gilberton Company Inc.

My own personal comics, in a separate well-worn paper shopping bag, were more along the lines of Bugs Bunny and TV shows -- most notably, The Man from Uncle. And, no surprise, The Monkees. I only kept a few...the rest of the items in the bag are fan magazines, now, sadly, sans their glossy photos and posters, which adorned the wall of my childhood bedroom.

Now, I will answer the next inevitable questions, as yet unasked.

Illya Kuryakin. And Davy Jones.

May your days in isolation be filled with equally stimulating conversation.