Making the Move
Saturday, Mary enlisted the aid of her husband, J.R.; two of their employees, Adam and Helen; and our friend Tom to help me move.
No, that’s not quite right…
What actually happened was, *they* moved me to the new apartment while I, for health reasons, mostly stood around and watched.
Somewhere in the English language there may be words to describe such vast generosity and my thankfulness for it, but I don’t know what they are. Without these people, the move would have been impossible.
Same goes for my friends Bret and Carol, without whom all the stuff would never even have been packed.
Why I have people like these around me is a mystery. *Nobody* could be nice enough to have earned their friendship, least of all myself. Somehow, I got very, very lucky.
Mary, J.R., Tom, Bret, Carol, Adam, and Helen — thank you, from the bottom of whichever of my organs are still functioning. You saved my life.
Later today, it’s back to the old apartment for one last walk-through to pick up some items that were inadvertently left behind. It’ll be strange to see that place empty. Then again, I suppose it’s been empty for a long time. For the past couple of years, I’m not even sure *I* was there.
January 30th, 2006 at 11:57 AM
“Nobody could be nice enough to have earned their friendship, least of all myself.”
You know, this turns out not to be the case.
Turn back the calendar to the Spring of 1976 and see an overenthusiastic teenager attending one of his first comic book conventions, excited beyond all description because his favorite comic book writer is going to be there in person. Said writer — who at that time was enjoying prominence and attention equivalent to what an Alan Moore or a Grant Morrison possess today — took a table in the dealer’s room and made himself available to anyone who wanted to chat with him. Said teenager remembers spending pretty much the entire day at that table, and not being shooed away by said writer or being put in his place for asking endless naive and eager questions about Omega, the Defenders, Starhawk, Howard, and all the other pressing topics of the day.
Instead, at the end of the day, you thanked me for being interested in your work. To top it off, you even gave me a free “Howard The Duck for President” campaign badge — even though you were selling them at the convention — as, so you said, “a token of your gratitude.” I left that day knowing that while I may have been totally obnoxious and wanting to hog all your time, you still made me feel like I had done you a favor rather than vice versa.
Some of my later encounters with favorite comics creators were much less pleasant…but these weren’t as upsetting as they might have been, because I always had you as an example of how a truly classy person behaves. Years later I ended up working at Marvel and a few other comics publishers…and though it all, I always remembered meeting you as proof that someone in this business could demonstrate class and respect for others; the rock star ego trip was not inevitable. And whenever I’ve gotten praise for my own writing, I’ve always tried to emulate the example you set.
Nowadays, the mere fact of this blog is evidence that you’re still the same guy who’s willing to be honest and accessible even with strangers, and that you still care about making people feel appreciated. And I’m forced to assume that the folks who’ve known you in person all these years see the same thing. I’m just saying, is all.
January 31st, 2006 at 2:15 AM
…!