I gave them up. Thousands and thousands of comic books spanning over six decades of collecting, and I'm happy because we were able to pay off our house.
But I kept my Superman collection. I continue to get back issues where I can, filling in gaps in my Superman Collection.
Above is one I read yesterday, Action Comics #517 from March 1981. Reading the story, taking place on Christmas Eve, I was reminded of why I was a Superman fan.
Like any character written by diverse hands over the last 85 years, there will be variances over how Superman is characterized. The Man of Steel movie had a grotesque violation of what Superman is all about when they had him kill the villainous Kryptonian, General Zod.
But for the most part, Superman is written as what some complain, but I adore, as a big blue Boy Scout. He stands for truth, justice, and the American Way (the good democratic melting pot version, not the Reich-wing nativist horror version). Even though he is from another planet, his values are about as good as values get. His humanity is tempered through his secret identity, Clark Kent, a reporter dedicated to uncovering and exposing social injustice.
In this particular story, he runs across two teenagers, one Jewish and one who calls himself Christian, fighting with each other about Christmas Eve, whose holiday it is, and who should be excluded from it.
Whatever you think of Christmas Eve and what it means, no one can argue with the sentiment Superman expresses next...
Ok. Given the religious violence and intolerance we see today, maybe some would argue with it.
But it means a lot to me.
My column last week would have been right up your alley. It dealt with Batman people, Superman people, and what that means for our future as a country. I've always been a Batfan, but the older I get the more I embrace Superman as a concept and a character.
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