The Lady with the Comic Books
That's how Cameron knows me. Cameron is about six years old, and she and her mommy ride the same bus I do. I met her last Wednesday, when I was reading two weeks' worth of rather devastating comics. She was on the seat in front of me and riding backwards, as small children do. I think it's just more comfortable that way. And she notices there's Batman on the cover of the comic I was reading. So we talk a little and I show her a cover or two. I also show Mommy Alex Maleev's breathtaking art in Daredevil, not knowing I'd never see more of that. Mommy wanted to know if I was an artist at that point.
Tuesday, we met again. "Yes, that's the lady with the comic books!" Of course, I didn't have any, it being Tuesday, but we smiled. I had more on Wednesday. And Cameron (we finally exchanged names) wanted to see more of my haul. So I sat next to her and carefully showed her covers. And it wasn't easy. The covers were all rather scary, and the one with Batman showed him holding a bloody knife. I found a couple I could show (LSH had Shrinking Violet coming out of an eye, but that wasn't obvious, and JSA Classified had Jay Garrick and Wildcat running) and did and then we discussed hat colors and purple and other important things.
I understand that cover art is important - a good cover can grab someone new, or someone undecided - and that gore and violence sells comics. But it was disheartening that out of seven books, I could show *two*.
I'm seriously thinking of getting an age-appropriate comic for Cameron - JLA Adventures or something.
Pakua and injuries
On Sunday, I split on heels for the first time since I injured my ankle. I also found out there's an epidemic of foot and ankle injuries among the blue belts. I split again on Monday, but not so much on Wednesday because we did a lot of jumping, and my right ankle wasn't happy.
But medium term injuries like that are funny - there's a point when you believe it will never get better, that you'll be wearing ace bandages and supportive shoes and limiting yourself forever, and then. It's better.
But then you over do things and your ankle hurts again.