Just a house, on a quiet street, near a busy corner, somewhat out of sight from passers-by. A guest. A welcome visitor. A watchman. And if you get too close…
Logan: “Take your friends and run… they’ll keep coming, and coming… you don’t have to fight anymore.”
Logan (again): “Go… don’t be what they made you.”
Logan (smiles) “So… this is what it feels like.”
Yeah, in case you hadn’t seen it, I just spoiled the ending for you. Logan dies. It happens in the best of comic book families, to the best of characters. It happens to the best of creators, too.
Today, Marvel Comics immortal, Stan Lee found out “what it feels like”, at the age of 95. Every corner of the Internet blew up all at once with the news. My corner, especially. Most of the posts from my friends mention something about their childhood.
Mine does not.
That’s because Stan Lee’s Marvel Universe meant nothing to me as a child. You see, I geeked late in life, comparatively. Stan Lee’s Universe only came to mean something to me as a tired, jaded old man who came to see his need of larger-than-life heroes to show him a path never before taken.
In particular, James Logan. The Wolverine. A tired, jaded old man on final approach for eternity. A lot like his creator, Stan Lee. Last year, the cinematic character of Wolverine passed from this life in a brutally beautiful blaze of character glory.
Today, Stan Lee followed along, as quietly as Logan at the end of his own story. Stan Lee always reminded me of Logan, in life, and now in death. And now I admit, publicly, why James Logan… The Wolverine… is my favorite Marvel character.
And why I remain in no hurry to know what two larger-than-life characters know, but less afraid of that knowledge for their existing, in the real world, and the world imagined.
Thank you Stan, for James Logan. Thank you for being the inspiration of my latter years more than my first.
The man with the tank bigger than mine paid with a hundred for “Twenty-five on number two”. The guy behind the bulletproof glass held the hundred up to the light to see if it was real. When the change came back, the man held a twenty up to the light to see if IT was real… then smiled.
NaBloPoMo 2018 will be (for me) a combination of Instagram-friendly posts… of short poems and square photos… in anticipation of an entirely new direction for 2019. This month, I will also be giving details on my very soon forthcoming third book, Mourning Person, and any other really nifty information on what’s new with our publishing house, Silver Star Laboratory.
I’m glad you’re here. See you tomorrow.
The wait is over.
My new book, Between Love and Orgasms, is available on amazon.com. Along with my new book, the second book in the True Story Trilogy, the first book, A Death on Skunk Street is also available. And if you’re an Amazon Prime member, any purchase of $25 or more (the price of both these books together) your shipping is FREE!
A simple book of love poems, this one goes inside the human heart, touching the broken places, the scars, but also the joys, opening the reader up to “…everyday secrets, the things we ought to know, and the way life is lived in the space Between Love and Orgasms.”
Click the link at the top, and order your copy today.
A post, in pictures, of my adopted home.
Long Beach, California.
PALM TREES HOLDING UP CLOUDS… Pacific Coast Highway near 2nd Street.
HALLOWEEN MOON… Redondo Avenue near 20th Street.
CITY LIGHTS – LONG BEACH TO DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES… Signal Hill.
BACK ALLEY… 4th Street near Cherry Avenue.
THE PHOTOGRAPHER… Home.
All photographs © Copyright 2017 William S. Friday