Brief Encounters With Stan Lee, My Flawed Hero.
(published in the Toronto Star Opinions Page, November 14, 2018)
by Craig Colby
A crowd suddenly opens to reveal a grey-haired octogenarian with a mustache and a green sweater. He looks right at me, sticks out his hand and says, “how the hell are ya?”
I shake his hand and say “I just want you to know what a pleasure it is to meet you.” He replies, “ah that’s great.” Then I hand him a comic book.
The magazine is Amazing Spider-Man #38, the last of the run by the original artists, Stan Lee and Steve Ditko. The man studies the book. I wonder what he’s thinking. Steve Ditko either quit or was fired after this issue, depending on who you believe. He then went on to become somewhat of a recluse. Not so for Stan Lee, the man holding the comic book now. He offers no reflection but signs the book and hands it back to me. I move along, not wanting to deprive the next person of their moment. This is the first of two times I would meet my boyhood idol, and by far the most satisfying.
When I was kid, I was a huge comic book fan. Obsessively so. I collected as much as I could and studied those books like scripture. I learned not just the characters, but the artists. Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, Gene Colan, John Buscema, Roy Thomas, Marv Wolfman and on and on. The artist I admired the most, however, was Stan Lee. I read not just his books, but his columns. I sent him letters. He made being a writer a very cool thing for a young guy.
As years went on, I read what I could about Stan Lee, how the artists complained that he took much of the credit for the characters they created, that he was too much of a showboat. They may have a point. They’d do well to remember though, that the reason I knew their names was that Stan Lee, the editor-in-chief, put credits in the comics to begin with. It wasn’t just self-promotion.
However you divide the creative pie, if Stan Lee is more John Lennon than Bruce Springsteen, it doesn’t matter. Stan’s work, with his colleagues, in the 1960s was one of the greatest creative runs in the 20th century, reinventing what a superhero was, not just tights and muscles, but flawed characters less comfortable in their skins than in their costumes. His work revitalized an industry and created a mythology that filled our youths with adventure and continues to shape the cinemas today.
The next time I meet Stan Lee I am with my sons, Shane and Curtis. We are paying $100 to have our picture taken with Stan Lee. Shane, 14, is dressed as Captain America, Curtis, 12, as the Black Panther. As we wait in an impossibly long line at Fan Expo, I wonder how much of this industry would be here without Stan Lee. He permeates all manner of media, and it’s reflected in the differing reasons my boys and I are excited to meet him. I know him for his writing, Shane for his movie cameos and Curtis as a playable character in the Lego Marvel video game.
When we get our turn for the picture, Stan is sitting in a tall director’s chair. I think he’s wearing the same green sweater from our last meeting. We drop our bags and rush in for the picture. No time to shake hands. I mumble something about being inspired by his writing, and as we are hurried away Shane yells “I love your cameos.” Stan yells “Ah thanks.” There’s no way we are with him for even 15 seconds. On the way out they give us our picture and sell us a frame.
I’ll always appreciate the work and the legend of Stan Lee. I’m happy to have met him twice, even briefly. The first was a payoff for my years of fandom, the second a payout that reinforced that Stan Lee’s success was as much commerce as it was creativity.
The signed comic and the picture are both framed on the wall.
Thanks for the great entertainment Stan. Excelsior!
Get stories as soon as they're published!
Craig Colby is a television executive producer, producer, director, writer and story editor. He runs a storytelling consulting and production service for businesses. Craig can be reached at craig@colbyvision.net.