When asked how they got into comics, a lot of women will cite the Dad Factor. I can make no such claim: to this day, my father has never read a comic book that didn’t involve Tintin.  My dad could not POSSIBLY be less interested in comic books.  If the hero of the story is not a member of the British Navy, he is not a hero.  That’s not to say that he discouraged me from bringing home handfuls of graphic novels, but he didn’t encourage me either and never engaged me on the topic in the way that he would have with, say, Jane Eyre.  I can still remember the slightly wary look on his face the first time I hauled my Strawberry Shortcake tote full of Wonder Woman back to car, like, man, I think the window in which I can imprint my own personal literary taste on my daughter is closing–hopefully I can get some Horatio Hornblower in under the wire.

When the Podcast Crew was discussing the idea of doing Fathers-oriented shenaniganry, my brain froze on two things:  1) that totally ridiculous Father’s Day issue of Robin when Tim gets waylaid by crime and ends up breaking the ILU BRUCE DADDY watch he got engraved all special and 2) the fact that my own father  had no influence over my comic-loving ways.  Then I remembered something crucial: that I am, in fact, an idiot and that without my father, I would never have gone to Other Realms with a fistful of dollars.

After I exhausted the supply of comics at the library, I asked my father where I could get more.  I was, (and I’m sure this will totally shock you) a little bit of a spoiled brat, so what I actually said was probably more like “Daddy, get me some more of this New Teen Titan stuff, um, now-ish.”  So he located the nearest (and at the time, only) comic shop, handed me 5 bucks and turned me loose and I?  I ran right the hell back outside because the store gave me the wiggins.  It was big and full of monster dolls, tall bins that I couldn’t see into and older boys in baseball caps who looked at me funny.  I told my dad that I had changed my mind and would instead like him to go inside and I would stay in the car and play with the cigarette lighter. At the time, it seemed very clear to me that my ponytail ribbons and I did not belong in that store.  “But it’s a boy store, Daddy.  There’s no girl stuff in there.”

My father just looked at me like I was even dumber than my Jem and the Holograms tee shirt.  “It’s just books, right?  There’s no such thing as boy books and girl books. Just go find the ones that you want.”

I walked out with Wonder Woman #21, Batman #424, New Teen Titans #48 and a bouncy ball and some Mike & Ikes from the candy machines in the front of the store.  My dad ate all the Mike & Ikes, but I somehow found it in my heart to forgive him.

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