Once upon a time, I started collecting the wonderful medium
known as comic books. From superheroes to supernatural creatures, the
possibilities were endless. After a quick stop at the local comic book
store once every two weeks, I could pick up an armload of my favorite
titles and immerse myself in reading for hours on end. When I was
done, it would be forever encased in an acid free bag and board so
that no human would be able to gaze upon it for eons to come and
stashed away in a deep dark perilous place... my bedroom.
But as the stack grew, and threatened to swallow me whole, I began
to fear that soon it would tumble and slice me apart with millions of
little sharp plastic cuts from the edges of all those polybags!
( But at least the bags would protect the comics from splattering blood!)
However, I had a box! Yes a box! In which I could neatly line up
what threatened to crush me under its weight, never to be seen or heard
from again. The Problem was solved, I no longer had to worry about
an angry pile of vicious comics coming down upon me and causing me
massive, irreparable damage!
Time happily went by. When a box got full, a new one was started.
All the books being sorted by titles and issue number. Then something
happened, my friends. Something which may be seen as good fortune to
some, but sometimes... can be a menacing concept... Real money started
coming in... and as a result... more comics were being bought on a
weekly basis... 5 or 6 a week... 30 or so a month... 360 a year and more!
The boxes started filling up faster and faster! There was an overflow!
The time required for sorting was becoming impossible to balance with the
necessary tasks of everyday life! Attempting to sort the rush of books
into the multitudes of boxes became so grueling, that all else was
forgotten! Things in the house fell into disrepair! I feared for my
sanity as well as my health and wondered if I would ever see the light
of day again or if I would be doomed to sort through these boxes
forever! Boxes started rupturing; piles and piles of comics came
shooting out , swallowing me in their maelstrom of glossy paper
and exclusive variant covers! Having lost my strength from the
starvation and exhaustion of being stuck in this dark cell of
comic boxes for weeks, I was overwhelmed by the rush and buried.
Time passed...
Finally, I became aware that I was still alive.. I clawed my way to
the top of the pile, hoping that I was not buried too deep and would be
able to break away from suffocating under this grave of annuals and
special chromium covers, wondering how long a person could live off
eating newsprint.
When finally... I saw a light! A light ... bulb! It was the light
on the ceiling of the closet! I had made it out alive! I quickly scurried
to the top of the pile to assess the damage... I stood painfully on top
of the pile of dilapidated Limited and Unlimited Editions and looked
around... and all I could say was one thing...
"Shit! I gotta find a new way to organize my comics"