I’ve never been shy about sharing the fact that I favor the funnybooks. I guess of any vice one could have, reading comics isn’t all that bad. When I was small, my parents would bring home whatever they saw at the grocery store newsstand (Yeah, newsstands still had comics then!) that they thought I would like. These mainly consisted of comic book versions of my favorite cartoons: Looney Tunes, Popeye, Tom and Jerry, Donald Duck, essentially, kids’ stuff…

God bless Google, here is the first 'real' comic I ever owned. Scary, huh?

At 13, I bought my first ‘real’ comic book. It was an issue of Batman featuring Killer Croc, and it began an obsession with comics, Batman in particular, that would take me through the rest of my life…

Fast forward to me at 19 years old. I had graduated high school and started going to a community college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I had no real sense of direction. I was interested in too many things. I took classes in psychology, theater, biology, philosophy, and art.

My second semester, I was bored with the relationship I was in, but too weak to end it. I just knew that I wouldn’t be able to find anyone else that would accept a tubby fanboy like me, so I was settling. We didn’t really understand each other, but hey, she stuck around, so maybe she felt something I didn’t, right?

So I walk into my art class for the semester, and I saw the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. She had a long flowing halo of dark red hair and a smile that would melt the hardest of hearts. Of course, I couldn’t go up and talk to her, it took her boisterous friend (there’s always one of those in these stories, isn’t there?) to introduce us. It was her friend that got this wonderful goddess to sit at a table near mine, to give us a chance to talk. And talk we did. Almost immediately, we began finishing each other’s sentences. I entertained the idea of dumping my girlfriend and running off with this wonderful woman, but again, I was weak.

Fortunately, my girlfriend made the decision for me. She’d been seeing another guy, and liked him more than me. I felt numb, but not necessarily hurt. Was I mad that she made the first move? Probably. I wanted to be the one to do the dumping! (Who doesn’t?)

So, sans girlfriend, I continued to talk to my Angel of the Art Class. There were several times that we would complete a sentence or say the same thing at the same time. Her friend would throw her hands up and say, ‘Oh, just get married already!’

What a dream boat!

Here was the knockout blow: She referred to Robin Williams as sexy. I admire Mr. Williams greatly. He is a very funny comedian and an amazing actor. But sexy? I thought of my own tubby hairy frame and thought, maybe this could work!

After all our discussions in art class, all the times we would laugh and joke in the cafeteria, I still couldn’t muster the courage to ask her on an actual date. Again, enter the boisterous friend. When the gorgeous redhead wasn’t looking, her friend slipped me a phone number and said, ‘Just call her!’

Chicken that I am, I sat on the number all summer. Luckily, fate brought us together the following semester, and in November of that year, we finally went on a date.

I still remember first setting foot in her home. She had her own house, while I still lived with my parents, in typical fanboy fashion.

…And she had a four year old daughter. She was older than me, and all of these things combined is pretty intimidating to a 20 year old who only really had one other real relationship in his life. But as I looked around her home and saw the comic book and pez dispenser collections, I knew I couldn’t leave.

It was more than those interests, obviously. It was the type of mother she was, it was the way that she thought. It was her sense of style. While I tended to plaster the walls with nothing but super heroes, she could somehow seamlessly incorporate prints of classic paintings by Matisse and Van Goghwith the four color heroes we both cherished.

One of our favorite arguments is whether Batman or Superman is the better hero. She’ll argue that Superman could do anything, but he chooses to use his abilities for good. I argue that Batman is self-made. He has no powers, but has honed his body and his mind to be the World’s Greatest Detective. She argues that Clark Kent is someone you’d want to hang around with, while Bruce Wayne is a douche. I argue that Bruce Wayne is the mask, and that Batman is the true identity… etc., etc.

DS9 became my very favorite Trek.

Before Bobbette and I started dating, I was a huge Star Wars fan. I thought that Star Wars was about characters, and Star Trek was more about the technology. She set out to prove me wrong. We started with, of all things, Voyager. A local TV station was running reruns late at night. Luckily, when we started, they were into the later seasons, if we’d started at season one, I don’t know how long I would have lasted. As it was, I immediately fell for Seven of Nine‘s battle to regain her humanity. I loved Tom Paris and his romance with a Klingon and fascination with twentieth century culture…

This became my new fanboy obsession. The library had all seasons of Next Generation and Deep Space Nine, and I ravenously consumed it all. I began writing Star Trek stories and entering the now defunct Strange New Worldsshort story competition. (For a sample of my Trek writing, check out my favorite of my stories; ‘The Stars Aren’t As Far As You Think‘) I never won anything, but I feel that the experience taught me a lot about having a passion for something and putting everything I had into that thing. I read so many Trek books and spent so much time on Memory Alpha, the Star Trek wiki, that I very nearly burnt myself out.

I spent a lot of time here babbling about the geeky stuff, because that’s easy. But the fact is that without my wonderful wife, I would probably still be out wandering the world with no direction. My compass would not point north, and I would not have the amazing children that you all have heard so much about.

Happy Anniversary, Bobbette. Here’s to forever!