By: Dr. Michael Robinson | Communication Studies Professor
A boy reading a comic book, 1956.
Back in the days before comic book stores, a loyal reader had to track down the next issues of their favorite comics. My main hunting ground was the 7-11 store that sat out where what was then the only way into our neighborhood met the super busy Route 50 just a few miles before the Chesapeake Bay Bridge.
I would always race right to the spinner racks, metal poles that held up wire racks with comic books placed into slots down four sides. Of course they spun, which allowed a kid to turn the comics to face you (and thus slightly upset any other kid looking at them). Turning the spinner made a sound not unlike a piece of playground equipment.
I spun those things like crazy, desperately trying to choose comics. If we left early in the morning on a Saturday in order to avoid beach traffic on a monthly trip to see family on the Eastern Shore, I got at least seven comics. That was the exact number to keep me busy until we reached Salisbury. At other times, I was allowed fewer. As I spun the rack, my brain would also spin over ways to convince my folks that I somehow needed an eighth or ninth comic– the ones I had to have.
These days I order comics online. Back then, I never knew what I would find. All kinds of forces worked against me: other customers, irregular visits, the whims of the distributors who delivered to 7-11, etc. It was chaos.
For example, my very first exposure to the X-Men came when I found issue #101 (July 1976). What a way to start! That was the issue where Jean Grey first became the Phoenix. I was blown away by this new team of characters I had not even heard of before. I eagerly snatched up X-Men #102 (Sept 1976) when I ran across it (the X-Men were only published bi-montly back then). I never even saw another issue until X-Men #123 (April 1979). I’m not saying that 7-11 had anti-mutant bias. I did manage to find many more issues of titles like the Avengers, Fantastic Four, or Captain America. In general though, it was a bit of work, equally fun and frustrating.
In 1983, Annapolis’ first comic book shop, the Twilite Zone opened up and my comics life forever changed. The shop was originally behind the city’s infamous erotic bakery before moving to Market House and then over to a Victorian era home on Fleet Street. Soon I was a teen with a fresh driver’s license and a new-to-me old car driving weekly to get my comics. I wouldn’t trade those days for anything. And many other great comic shops in my life followed, like Bloomington’s Vintage Phoenix, Bowling Green’s Ground Zero Comics, and our own late lamented Dominion Comics.
But once every now and then, I find myself nostalgic for the giddy thrill of walking into a 7-11 and finding a comic. Something I never knew existed before and might never see again. Something I just had to have. I miss those spinner rack days.
