“He had a strange feeling as the slow gurgling stream slipped by: his old life lay behind in the mists, dark adventure lay in front.”J.R.R. Tolkien – The Lord of the Rings
In 1978, when I started junior high at Southmore Intermediate School in Pasadena, Texas, I never dreamed that over thirty years later my lifelong appreciation for comic books, science fiction, fantasy, and my fellow fans would become a guide to my own adventures. In 6th grade most teachers seated the students alphabetically, so I quickly noticed a funny kid chatting behind me in every class. I was a skinny, pale kid with glasses, but David Gregg was a taller, impossibly skinny kid with glasses. I’m not sure how we first talked Marvel comics, Star Trek, or Tolkien, but we both had voracious appetites for anything nerdy. David also owned a copy of the Star Trek Concordance by legendary Trekkie, Bio Trimble, with its beautiful die-cut cover, and he had a memory unlike anyone else; an ideal trait for any nerd. He could see a still image from any Trek episode and name the source; with credentials like that, it wasn’t a surprise that we became great friends.
Over the years I came to regard him as a brother. We would regularly talk on the phone after school, discussing the nuances of things like the new issue of the Fantastic Four, or trying our best at creating our own stories, but always laughing at how silly they seemed in comparison to the books we loved. Like many people involved in fandom, those early teen years were the most formative for my developing interests. It was only a matter of time before I attended my first comic book convention, which was at a convention center near the Astrodome. I don’t remember how David or I heard about the convention, but my mom dropped us off for the day, and later his mom picked us up. This was such a memorable event that I can still recall the dim fluorescent lighting, the musty basement smell, and the chilling air conditioning—a Houston staple. In one room they were showing Star Trek episodes and blooper reels, oddball cartoons, and old science fiction films. The dealer’s room felt like a large basement at a friend’s house, filled with rows of artifacts from alien worlds just waiting to be explored. That hunger for exploration and discovery filled my youth and still drives me. I’m a “digger,” such as in crates for music and books, piles for clothes, and libraries for information.