The Great Defender
My Great Big American Trip part 4.
SUnday I spend a leisurely day doing nothing special. Although it meant not meeting my intrenet friend Steven Brower, I just wanted to stay up in putnam and not go into New York. But after speding all morning typing up Saturday's report, I git a bit restless. I called Michael Vassallo if we could maybe get together again. H said he was free and we spend a lovely afternoon in his basement, talking about comics, life and eh... comics. I could easily spend a week there, just going through all his stuff. Only he would have to be out, because you couldn't scan on epage without him running up to you with yet another amazing piece of comics or pulp history. In the end, we talked mostly about our lives by the way and I think I may even prefer that to all the comic book stuff.
That evening I ate with Mike, his wife and daughter (while his son watched the first episode of the new Walking Dead season, which I am sure lot of my friend in Holland would much rather hear about. Contrary to the stereotypical image we Europeans have of the Americans, they all had a great sense of humor, including irony and sarcasm. Even a crack I made about how "I am Dutch, I know nothing!" was met with howls of recognition (and it wasn't even that funny). They confessed to me that may have seen Fawlty Towers a dozen times.
So here is Michael's Wall of Fame. Or at least, on of the six.
This is of course, after I asked Michael to drop the sword and shield and step out of the picture.