My life and career have intersected with the wondrous Marv Wolfman at many points along the way. I am proud to call him my friend … or at least a friendly acquaintance. If you’re reading this Marv, the next lunch is on me. I plan to pay up really soon.
I first became aware of Marv Wolfman in high school when I was reading as many Marvel Comics as I could get my hands on. Sometimes that was quite difficult. Remind me to tell the story someday soon about how I almost froze to death during high school in my pursuit of new release comics.
For a comic frame of reference, I essentially grew up in Smallville. I lived on farmland five miles from the nearest town, Claremont, Minnesota (pop. 620). It had one very small convenience grocery store that carried comics. Even though new comics came in only once a week or so, I visited that little rack of comics every day at lunchtime. Continue reading