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Born in Vancouver, BC Canada...and after living in a lot of different places since then....has finally returned home.
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Some general musings on the concept of "routine" as it applies to life and in relation to comic buying behavior:
They say familiarity breeds contempt. I see this manifest in the comic fandom world as much as IMDB or any other such forum where creative works are publicly scrutinized. The words “fan-fiction” and “pretentious” are bandied about by “trolls” as often as Janet Van Dyne changes her costume. I’ve done my best to avoid the trappings of the online flame exchange. I tend more to be the guy who blurts out some random drunken diatribe and never to be heard from again. At least I “was” that guy once. I have a blog for random diatribes now. So, my cup runneth over. If I keep coming back, I’m sure to wind up on someone’s hate list. I am aware of how this goes. In keeping with the realm of comics, though: how does one avoid contempt in an industry that, by its very nature, is governed by routine? When the product is expected to be ready for consumption on a monthly and sometimes weekly basis, how do the creators maintain a following without courting demise? When a character such as Superman is pushing millennial, how does the weight of disdain piled on over the years not crush him into irrelevance? He is the “man of steel” and all, but I am curious to see how much steam this character has left. Somehow, he keeps coming back.
Sometimes it seems as though my life has consisted of a long disjointed string of fits and starts and never completes. The fun times seem to end too soon while the laborious and mundane hang around way too long. Just when I feel like I’m on a roll toward something truly satisfying, my tract is diverted to some other less enjoyable path. Routine activity can be a comfort in times of uncertainty. When life kicks you in the like you’re some mangy dog, a consistent act like brushing your teeth or waking up at the same time can create a calming effect. Routine can also be a soul-crushing wheel, and an engine that produces nothing but mediocrity. Handling a complex routine effectively is a sign of maturity I suppose. If you are capable of performing a multitude of routine acts each day, then you are seen as reliable. Personally, I resist routine. I get bored with the same old things day after day. I find more comfort in a mercurial challenge than performing mindless tasks in a predictable world.
I suppose others might see me as unreliable or even down right immature at times. I prefer to go to work at a different time each day. I would rather be spontaneous for lunch rather than plan out a meal the night before. I never know what my preference might be from moment to moment. I read comic books. Comic book collecting is my constant. Comic books are routinely published on a monthly schedule. I go to the local comic book store once a week. I follow monthly serialized comics for years at a time. Routine. And yet, there is variety there. Hundreds of new comics are published each month. I’m not just like a kid in a candy store each week at my local comic shop: I’m a kid in a candy store that sells a different kind of candy every single week. How cool is that?
But it’s candy, right? It’s empty calories and it will rot your teeth. Stay away. Brush every night before bed and avoid all comic books. You will be healthier that way. You will be happier for it. Or so we are told. Comic books are often considered juvenile and are frowned upon by many self-proclaimed respectable “mature” adults (aka parents). Even today, at the height of their acceptance and visibility through movies, television and literature; comic books remain marginalized in general western society. Why is my collection “routine” considered unacceptable? I should be collecting cars or houses or bags of money at this point in my life, right? What’s the difference? I’m guessing that you might now be asking if I have ever actually raised a child of my own. All you parents out there are snickering, I’m sure. I may now be cultivating a childless complex. And yet, I rail at the concept. Just because you have a heightened sense of responsibility due to a small life form screaming in your ear at all times day and night does not give you the right to judge me. And yes, I have never myself raised a child. Don’t act so smug.
The difference to me is in the content. Even the most ardently protective and attentive parent can attest that somewhere around the age of two, their offspring begins to become more of a chore than a joy and the pursuit of some new distraction is just around the corner. No, please do not have another child just because the newness of your first one has worn off. That said, I’m sure there are many parents who have done nothing but adore their children every single day of their lives and more power to them (thanks mom!). Personally, when I am in need of a distraction, I enjoy entertainment that stimulates my thoughts and my imagination. There are many venues of entertainment available that may provide sufficient stimulation to me in this regard; I just happen to find affinity for the colorful picture-filled word-bubbled variety. Others may see my behavior and interests as “stunted” or “unsophisticated” because they may have long since “outgrown” such a format. But I look around at the society I live in: full of dull, unimaginative and sometimes ugly things. I see the real horrors of my neighborhood and wonder: what has all that “out-growing” done for us? Is our society better off without wonder and imagination? Perhaps it is the crushing wheel of routine responsibility that has caused such a lack of interest in things beyond bills to pay and mouths to feed. Perhaps it is the event of parenthood or the excitement of carrier ambition that has sucked the joy out of flipping through 30-odd pages of fantastic adventure.
My intent here; is not to malign those who have chosen a path for their lives that is different from mine. Nor do I wish to disparage those who have unintentionally come to shoulder some measure of responsibility beyond their control. We all make choices in our lives. I merely wish to provide my take on how the routines we follow can affect the perceptions we have of ourselves and the world around us. Routines can be at once a comfort and a prison if you let them. I find it curious that the comic book industry, which has whole heartedly embraced vigorous routine publishing is also often criticized as being worthless and sometimes even dangerous. I’m sure you could brush your pearly whites right off of your face if you tried hard enough. Does that mean candy is good for you? The lines between habit, routine, obsession and addiction can become blurred when the need for external satisfaction outweighs the need to maintain one’s health. Although not as immediately hazardous as an addiction; any routine can become detrimental if one becomes overly dependent upon it. As an adult, I will take my chances with a good comic book over most any other diversion. But this is my choice.
I believe there is a little child in all of us; always eager to be let out for play no matter what the age. Experience can cause cynicism and repetitive activity can dull the senses. At some point in our lives, we find the need to grow beyond “play-time” and achieve something of greater significance in our lives. We need to break past the panel walls and begin creating ourselves. Our views expand beyond the page into a world of real possibilities. Sometimes we become trapped by the perception of what we are meant to be or how we must fit into the society we interact with. Childish things are shed in favor of “adult” things. We grow tired of routine and yet we find the ability to endure it more as we age. At some point, sometimes through depravation, we do finally return to those things that we once felt pleasurable as a child. For me, the answer is comics. The difference between me and any other “Average Joe”, is that I never truly quit playing. I never got tired of it. I never wanted anything more. I didn’t need fast cars or a big house or a mountain of money to be “okay”. I just kept living the four-color adventure. Does that mean I never grew up? No, it just means that I never forgot how to let the child in me get out and play. Up the slide and down again; over and over amen.
james54
mekdinosaur
Tenzil
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