I took a trip down memory lane yesterday. While rearranging the Big Closet for the hundredth time, Kim uncovered a hand made 1996 calendar I had made for her while we were courting. It featured early drawings of the characters that I now draw every day. It was a cute little concoction of cardboard and paper and glue neatly held together by some yarn I must have stolen from my Mom. The calendar grids were printed out on a dot matrix printer using what I’m guessing is Print Shop. I remember it took me a long time to finish — I had probably come up with the idea a few days before Christmas. The most striking thing about the whole work was the characters themselves. They appear to be from outer space. I’m guessing Mars, but maybe Pluto. It really is horrible. Their eyes are way too big and way too close together. And their heads, oy. To quote Mike Myers in So I Married An Axe Murderer, "They’re like an orange on a toothpick!" The only thing that comforts me when I see how poor my art skills were, is being able to see how far I’ve come. I’m amazed that anyone ever encouraged me to continue pursuing this whole "Kim & Jason" thing, because frankly, I’m not sure if I would have. Lucky for me, I assumed that everyone was completely sincere and not in the least bt patronizing, so I kept drawing. And drawing. And drawing. So here I am, with two full years of Kim & Jason comic strips under my belt and with the ability to look back at work from over six years ago and marvel at the improvement. To everyone who dutifully patted me on the head and complimented my efforts on Kim & Jason even though they looked more like Martians than children - thanks.

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As I was playing with my posable Spiderman action figure yesterday (the one with 36 points of articulation), I glanced up and saw the Superman ornament hanging from my desk lamp. I remembered how I’ve loved them every since I was a boy, and how I would dress up like them all the time. Heck, as I write this entry I’m wearing a Superman t-shirt that’s so well-worn that the logo is cracked and peeling. Perfectly aged. With all these thoughts swirling in my head, I thought: What is the deal with superheroes? What is it about them that makes them so appealing? Of course it’s nice to have someone around who can always save the day; most adults wish we had our own personal superheroes to fly in and take over the mound of laundry or stack of bills. One also has to look at the idealism factor. Being a pretty idealistic person myself, I can appreciate the concept of a close-to-perfect individual who fights for the good guys and always comes out on top. And there is definitely something to be said for the world of imagination that opens up when one talks of superheroes and dangerous villains and impossible missions and the pending doom of Earth. But aside from all those things, I think the single most appealing thing about superheroes is the suits. Yep, the gaudy, technicolor spandex outfits. Face it, without the secret disguise and brightly colored jumpsuit, it’s just a regular guy or gal trying to make the world a better place. I’m not really sure where the superheroes get all their fancy duds. I think Superman’s aunt made his, but I don’t believe it. Mom’s and aunts don’t make things THAT cool. There’s always too much material, a crooked logo, or some silly flowered pattern incorporated somewhere. Maybe there’s some sort of Superhero Superstore where they pick out the latest original fashions or something. All I know is that when I was little, I was Spiderman for Halloween one year, and putting on that mask made me a different person. It made me more, well, super. (I’d rather not discuss the ill-fitting plastic hospital gown suit that came with it, emblazoned with the words "Amazing Spiderman" because you wouldn’t know it was supposed to be him by looking at the wretched thing.) Yep, the thing that’s most super about superheroes is the superduds. Maybe we should all have custom costumes we all wear from time to time. The only problem I foresee is the need for a physique that compliments the attire. I mean, the sight of a stout middle-aged balding man in a tight green spandex suit will make mothers grab their children and rush for the nearest exit. If the guy looks more like The Rock, for instance, the situation would be slightly different. Maybe we should just let the superheroes be superheroes and just try to do what we can to make the world a better place on our own. But first I’m going to surf the Internet for a Superhero Superstore near me.

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When I started this funny business two years ago, it was very much like trying to move that big boulder that chased Indiana Jones at the beginning of "Raiders of the Lost Ark". Unfortunately, the boulder we were dealing with was not speeding along; in fact, it seemed to be very comfortable right where it was, thank you very much.

They say a rolling stone gathers no moss, but this one looked like it was auditioning as an inhabitant for Yoda’s swampy home planet of Dagobah. Back then, it seemed like it would take all of our energy just to move the rock a millimeter. An order here, a few new Fan Club members there. Very late nights trying to get the eCard Zone working. A nice complimentary, albeit slightly patronizing e-mail from a family member. Everything was in s l o w motion. It was like a leaky faucet in the middle of the night; things were happening, but it was pretty annoying. We’d come up with an idea we thought would catapult Kim & Jason to the stratosphere, only to see a pitifully meager response from our effort. I knew that it wasn’t because the strip was horrible. I had (and still have) a long way to go on it, but I knew that things were going the way most businesses start out - slow and steady. There were always signs that the cumbersome metaphor was indeed moving.

It’s two years later and the big heavy rock is still moving; although it doesn’t seem to be quite so heavy or hard to move now. Coming off the Chicago Gift & Home Show last weekend, we’ve signed two sales reps and are in negotiations with a book distributor and a licensing agent. There is still an enormous amount of work left to be done, but it finally appears surmountable.

Now more of my energy is focused on making sure the boulder doesn’t veer off course and squash innocent civilians or my bank account. I have visions of the day when I’ll have to run just to keep up with the moving boulder, which has built up speed from all the hours of blood (cutting myself with my X-Acto knife), sweat (coloring Weekenders in my office with no air conditioning) and tears (of frustration as I’ve often pondered my sanity).

Hopefully I can do it as heroically and with as much movie star cool as Indy.

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