Contemporary Comics Consumerism

Doug: DATELINE - Lima, Ohio. Hand-written on a tag on a rack of comics and trade paperbacks was this sign:

"Looking for an entry point to the Marvel Universe? Try Civil War!"

UPDATE: So I whipped this post up in about two minutes right before my wife and I headed out the door. Just wanted to get some conversation going this Sunday. When I got back home, Osvaldo had left the first comment. I'll give my further explanation, which I intended to do anyway once I got home (which I now am). Got that? Anyway, he said:

Dr. Oyola said...Not sure what your point here is. . . that this is a bad point of entry? (I'd agree).

Anyway, it made me think of this article about how much it'd cost to get all the issues of the current Secret Wars series and related title tie-ins.

Short answer? Over a thousand bucks.

September 27, 2015 at 1:14 PM

Doug: Friday my wife and I took 1/2 personal days so that we could make the trek out of Illinois, across Indiana and into western Ohio to watch our son play soccer. We spent the night in Lima, Ohio (home of Ben Roethlisberger and Phyllis Diller -- how's that for a combination?). On Saturday we decided just to explore the town for a few hours before heading for home. I noticed that they had what appeared to be a nice looking LCS in the downtown area, so we went. Alter Ego Comics was indeed a great little full-service store. They had a little bit of everything, and their displays were very attractive. Nice staff on site for assistance, and they didn't seem to be hurting for customers. So if you're in the area, they have my recommendation.

Doug: To the question at hand... I at first had a wry smile cross my lips when I read the sign and was tempted to scoff aloud. And then I stopped myself. Looking around, it hit me that comic book consumerism in 2015 really isn't geared toward me. While they had a fair back issue section, it didn't seem like they had an abundance of Silver or Bronze Age back issues. They had no, to my recollection, back issues on the walls as shops often do. So I said to myself that today's comic fan probably is up on current events at the Big Two, and is probably fully-immersed in the lore of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. And, given that Captain America: Winter Soldier was one of Marvel's biggest pictures and that next spring's Captain America: Civil War promises to be huge, maybe -- just maybe -- Civil War is a good entry point to the Marvel Universe.

Doug: Because as we've said, this really isn't my Marvel Universe, not any more. So that's where I was going with this. 

The Thrill is Gone

Doug: So Friday afternoon, Halloween, my wife and I jumped into the Highlander right after school to head south to Lexington, KY for our son's conference tournament soccer match. On the way, as I battled the high winds and rain mixed with snow, I mused on the potential of finding a comic shop or two near the University of Kentucky campus (we would be at Transylvania University for the game, however). And then it hit me, and maybe it was the moment the selling of my comics collection really gained a finality in my mind: why on Earth would I want to go to a comic shop? I certainly wasn't going to buy any comics, and I buy my trades and hardcovers online at a discount anyway. And I was sad.

Doug: Today I'd like some thoughts on the feeling of going to a comic book store, your LCS, or to some other eclectic shop that deals in comics. I've titled this "The Thrill is Gone", but I know that's way too cynical for many of our readers. Some of you still have that great joy and sense of anticipation upon being in a different town or city and discovering a new shop, or even in reacquainting with a store you perhaps used to frequent. I can certainly recall the very day as a college freshman when some buddies offered me a ride into Peoria, IL to accompany them on a trip to a comics store. In my hiatus of the previous five years, I did not even know such specialty shops existed! So "kid in a candy story"? To the max! (That's '80s talk if you don't know). But rifling through longboxes no longer holds that magic for me. That partly makes me sad, but I'm also indifferent. Maybe it's a ship sailed, water under the bridge, or some other idiom/cliche'. What's that like for you?

Doug: And on the sales front, since you asked, things have been going well. My commitment to this blog (notably the reviews, but also being able to work ahead) has been scaled back because of the auctions. I'll still stand by my decision to sell this thing myself, but it is a true test of my time. In fact, this past week I did not have new auctions for the first time since I began. But with my wife away for the day on Saturday the 8th, I was able to get several hours of scanning and listing done. I'm into my Amazing Spider-Man collection now after having moved all the way through my Avengers books. I didn't sell all of those, and will come back to them at the end of it all. One thing I'm looking forward to is being able to package some nice Silver and Bronze Age lots pulling various titles together from the leftovers. I suppose my big news came a few weeks ago, when I listed ASM #s 121 and 122. I kid you not -- they were not "live" for more than 10 minutes when a buyer scooped them up through the Buy It Now feature. I got $70 for #121 and $75 for #122. The latter was in better overall shape to your eye and hands, with one exception (check the scans I've provided) -- some dummy who owned it well before I did had thumbtacked it to a wall! And not just once -- six or seven times! But to make this tale even more golden, the fella contacted me and asked if I had a few other keys. I did -- he was interested in ASM #s 194 (1st Black Cat), 238 (1st Hobgoblin -- which I did not have), and 300 (1st full Venom). I whipped up some scans very quickly, gave some details on any specific deficits the books had, and we negotiated a price. I'd estimate that I got around 75% of guide for the two, bringing his total bill to around $260. Not a bad day.

Doug: I'll leave you with another question, based on my experiences. I didn't know how much nicer my Avengers run was, condition-wise, than the rest of the collection is shaping up. I'm not into my Fantastic Four books yet, but I can declare that the Amazing Spider-Man stock isn't up to the standards that the Avengers sold at.

Buy Yourself Some Bronze Age Love

Doug:  Here's a simple question, with all BABers living in the same fantasy land:  Let's just suppose that either Karen or I won the lottery (which we didn't), and allowed every one of our readers to go to their local comic shop or a convention nearby and pick out one item -- on us.  What would you get?  To complicate your thinking just a bit, this is your LCS; it's not a mail-order offer.  Nope -- you go to the LCS or a convention that is closest to you and pick out one item.  Again, what would you get?  Money is no object, because, hypothetically (don't anyone try to send us a bill!) we're going to reimburse you.

Doug:  So what's that one thing you'd love to have, have always stayed away from due to price, but now in this fantasyland you could finally own?  Does your LCS have a great stock of back issues?  Is there a hardcover or omnibus you've wanted?  How about statues?  What's the nearest convention to you like?  Is it a megacon like New York, Chicago, or San Diego?  Or is it a smaller, mom-and-pop show in a hotel ballroom or civic center?  The sky's the limit today, friends, based on your circumstances -- wish away!

Doug:  Below is something I wanted many years ago, when the Warner Bros. Studio Stores were still around.  It's a very large print, painted of course by Alex Ross of the Legion of Super-Heroes (I believe Karen ran this image previously in a post she penned).  Framed, matted -- wow.  I'd love to have this!  And I know that I've seen these at the Chicago Comicon in past years, so I meet my own criteria for today's post.  Pricey, this is!  And, in the event that I could not get hold of this beauty, I'd probably purchase myself the set of bootlegs of the 1966 Marvel Super-Heroes cartoons -- someone please tell me why these never received the DVD treatment?

Comic Shop Memories

Karen: My very first "real" job was at my small town's comic shop. The phrase "shotgun shack" is an apt description; the space was about 8 feet wide and 25 feet long. With the long boxes stacked along either wall, the actual walking space from end to end was no more than 3 feet wide. It was cramped, with dim lighting and cracks in the walls. Yet, it was an honest to goodness real comic book shop, something I had never even imagined existed until Mr. Markgraf opened his store. (None of these pictures are of his shop -I simply added them for flavor.)

I was a regular customer from the age of 11 up. When I hit my teens, I struggled to find a job. I applied at all the usual places (the new mall was a popular site for teen job-seekers) but nothing came my way. Then, Mr. Markgraf asked me one day if I'd be interested in working in the shop part-time. As Mary Jane said to Peter Parker, "You just hit the jackpot!"

When I look back on it now I am amazed that my parents let me do it, as the days that I worked, I was the only person in the shop! But it really was a different world back then. Hiring me gave the owners a chance to have a few days off each week and even go on trips. I started out working two days a week but it moved up to three and sometimes four at a time. I'd also sometimes come in on Wednesdays and assist with putting the new comics out. Being alone in the shop usually wasn't scary though. Well, except for the time a guy I'd never seen before lurched through the door and asked me, "Are you alone in here?" That was a wee bit disturbing.

I knew I had a good thing going. I could read as many comics as I liked, for free. This was the early 80s and the independent market had come alive, so I was reading all sorts of stuff. It was here that I was first exposed to Elfquest and Nexus (back when Nexus was in a magazine format). Mr. Markgraf was a smart guy; he probably knew he'd get back a fair amount of what he paid me. At least I got a discount.

My friends enjoyed coming by, too. Most of them weren't comics fans but they were all geeks of one sort or another, and it had higher prestige with them than working at Hot Dog on a Stick. One of my friends did read comics and sometimes she and I would sit behind the register with a big stack of books to peruse.

Now don't think I didn't help the customers; I did. I offered suggestions, found back issues, and generally chatted them up. For the most part, it was fun meeting other fans. But there were always those customers that I dreaded seeing. There were the ones who you could smell as soon as they opened the door. In that confined space, especially in the summertime, and without an air conditioner, it was nearly lethal. There was the the shambling mess of man who had an ever-present crust of snot around his nose, who loved to share his knowledge. For hours. There was the uber nerd who would come in and start arguments with me over comics history. Even when I dug a book out to prove him wrong, he'd insist he was right.

Perhaps the worst though was the sheriff's deputy who was always trying to pick me up. Seriously, I was a teen-ager and this man must have been in late thirties. He'd come in, all puffed up in his uniform, with his pomaded hair and talk about some criminal he'd caught or some other exploit. A couple of times he pulled out his revolver to show me. He would ask if I was seeing anyone and I was smart enough to say yes. It didn't really deter him though.

But despite those things, it is a job I look back on fondly. When I go into comic shops now, I always scan them with my past in mind. I'm often awed at how much space some shops now have, or the great displays they put up. I always note the level of cleanliness, or lack thereof; whether the shop focuses on new product or has a strong back issue inventory; and of course, how they treat their customers. I've been in far too many stores where the employees never even acknowledge your presence. But that type of store seems to be disappearing. Most of the shops I have patronized in the last ten years make an effort to welcome their customers. There's been a lot of diversification, just to survive, and many shops are a combination of comic, game, and toy store. But one thing hasn't changed: the role of the shop as a place for comic geeks to get together and express their love -or hate! -for their hobby. I hear many of the same discussions now as I did then; oh sure, the names may change, but it's still pretty much the same. It's oddly reassuring.

With the decline of bookstores, I wonder if the comic shop is not far behind. Here in Phoenix, our biggest comic seller, Atomic Comics, went out of business suddenly last summer. All four stores closed. But thankfully a number of other stores appear to be going strong. I would really hate to see them disappear. Comic shops are like a safe haven, a clubhouse for comics fans where they can be themselves and find like-minded people. I suppose if they did disappear there would still be conventions, but it's not the same as having a place to go week after week in your own community. Long live the LCS!