“Do you want some ice cream?” I asked Court last night.

“Sure,” she responded.

“Okay, I’m going to swing out to Shinders and then by Cold Stone for some ice cream.”

“What’s at Shinders that you need?” she inquired.

“Um…uh…Comic books”

I had just read an article on Slashdot about the latest issue of Captain America. In a sudden rush this boyful glee came over me as I was completely possessed with the thought of reading this comic book. It’s a feeling I haven’t had since I was 15, when I first collected.

This all stems from a recent conversation I had with a co-worker. We got to talking one day about comics and such. I try not to let my nerdy side out too much but I couldn’t help but reminisce about the good ol’ days of my childhood when I’d spend the week trying to convince my mom to take me to Shinders on Saturday so I could pick up the latest X-Force. The co-worker brought in some recent books to wet my appitette a bit. The art and storylines were great and I feared getting hooked again.

I came home with 5 new comics from Shinders. I threw them on the table while Court and I ate our ice cream. After our dessert I picked them up and started thumbing through them. Court asked to see them so I showed her my new pride and glories.

“No,” she exclaimed.

“What?” I knew what she was getting at.

“You get crazy with this sort of stuff.”

“What do you mean I get crazy?” I figured my best defense was denial.

“Remember the Simpsons toys? We still have a stack of ‘Experience’ magazines. You have to own EVERYTHING when you collect stuff”

“No..No I don’t,” I said. The truth is: yes, yes I do.

“Can we throw out the ‘Experience’ magazines?” She asked. I figured it was a fair trade so I agreed.

“I promise, Court. I won’t get crazy. I’ll keep them in a box so they’re not in the way”

“What good are they going to do in a box?”

:-)