My ~ Comical ~ Romance
So yesterday, I met this man:
I met him at Newbury Comics on Newbury Street.
Let’s back up a bit. Earlier this week I stumbled across this little notice on the intrawebs. O RLY, I thought. Gee is signing his new comic book in Boston. That. Is rather close to me. Both out of loyalty and a genuine interest in what his odd little brain came up with, I had planned on picking up a copy of The Umbrella Academy anyway. What was the catch? I phoned Newbury, who said wristbands distributed when the store opened at 10 would guarantee priority in line when Gerard showed up at 4. My classes ran from 12 to 3. Perfect.
I woke myself up at 7:30 so I could get in line by 8:30. Conveniently, the T-stop was in clear sight of the storefront, and right away I spotted a gaggle of tired-looking teens in MCR shirts and decidedly tweemo attire. It took me a minute to realize that the line was in fact much longer - perhaps 50-60 people, including some accompanying parents. So I got in line and waited.
The kids in front of me in line were really physically small. I could tell from their vocabularies and their discussion of A.P.s that that they were high schoolers, but wow…they were small. They were all wearing blue jeans, black hoodies, studded belts, Chucks or Vans, and some article that said “My Chemical Romance” on it. They had made posters for the band, and one girl had made a black umbrella and striped scarf for her carebear and was going to give it to him. The girls were falling all over this one guy, who was nonchalantly telling stories of meeting several other bands in person. It was amusing.
More amusing, though, were the consistent expressions of bewilderment on the faces of the normal people passing by. "Who are you guys waiting in line for?" they always asked. Replies ranged from the obvious ("Gerard Way," "MCR," "My Chemical Romance," which often had to be revealed in succession to the clueless passerby) to the ironicly subtle ("It's a comic book signing") to the outright brilliant ("Godot," "Bon Jovi"). One girl didn't ask us anything, but I heard her mumble something about Avril Lavigne. Ouch. A middle-aged man muttered, "It must be the Beatles." One woman smiled brightly and said, "He's so lucky! He's got such great fans!" MCR fandom is indeed special. It seems to be contagious. The mother of a girl standing near me seemed to know everything about all the band members. "Gerard got married?" she asked me. "I wasn't sure if that was just an internet rumor."
I am absolutely fascinated by alternative youth culture, and particularly of MCR fandom. Based on this and on my concert experience in Worcester, I felt like I had two sample populations on which to base my anthropological fieldwork (though in reality it was probably the same population). My thesis is that MCR fans, like the band itself, are a unique bunch. Not your regular crop of emo kids. And I was going to include a side note on this study of mine, but it ended up doubling the length of the post, so I'll save it for a future time.
When I returned at 3:30, the line had swollen and extended down the entire block. Fortunately, my wristband enabled me to jump to the front half. As 4pm drew nearer, even more people climbed onto the back of the line. I found myself with a group of twentysomethings who worked and went to school in the area, and we commiserated over feeling old. Watching the other fans was amusing. A rather obnoxious group of youngsters wearing Burger King crowns took it upon themselves to sing MCR songs together while waiting for the signing to start. There was plenty of eyecandy for me: gorgeous girls with to-die-for hair, and boys in tight pants. But my favorite fan of all was a burly, twenty-something "tough guy" in a wifebeater who looked like he could take all of MCR out with one punch. I might have assumed he was here for his girlfriend's benefit, had the gorgeous tattoo of the Black Parade mascot on his forearm not been so strikingly visible. Now that is hardcore.
The company of my fellow collegians made the hour-long procession through the store rather enjoyable in and of itself. As we wound through the aisles, we found ourselves tempted by $8.99 CDs, Neil Gaiman anthologies, and Sid Vicious and David Bowie action figures. At that point, store workers broke the heartbreaking news to us: they would only let us give Gerard one item to sign. I can understand why they'd want to move the line along if people are demanding to get their CDs and their sneakers and their chests signed, butI was just hoping to get a signed book for Jenny along with my own. No such luck. One girl I was with was in the same situation. But we were still pretty psyched. We made bets on how much coffee Gerard would have with him. We all know him so well, it's kind of disturbing. XD
I finally got in sight of Gerard, and my heart did a little dance.
(I did not take this picture, because I'm a goody goody. I stole it from some internet girl.) I was displeased and yet unsurprised that he wore his horrible Michael Jackson sunglasses. Seriously dude, your eyes make your face. You’re indoors. Take them the hell off! It would have felt much more personal had I been able to see his eyes. But he looked great anyway, and...surprisingly big. Well, not big, just…close-up. Life-size. Kinda like how the stuffed animals in natural history museums look so much bigger than you realized they actually were? And I loved his outift! It was so good to see him wear a tie again -- I think is meant to mirror the Umbrella Academy attire, but it also reminded me of the Not Okay getup. And his hair is looking good these days too! It's getting long and Elvis-esque. I wonder if he'll grow it back to his classic '05 look. As long as he doesn't go blond again, we're good. He had three venti Starbucks cups atop the table. I called that! I watched him sign for the girl ahead of me. Then it was my turn.
“Hi, I’m Gerard,” he said as he shook my hand.
Yeah, I know who you are, Gerard. XD He is so adorkable. LOVE.
So I told him who I was. He signed and personalized my book in silver ink, while I told him how much I love and respect what he does. I gave him a drawing of the band in their Black Parade uniforms, which I made shortly after the May concert.
From cartoonist to cartoonist. When I gave him the picture, he smiled the most genuine smile. I was so glad I had thought to bring it! He thanked me, still smiling, and I thanked him too, and went on my merry way.
The moment I got outside the door I had a bit of a fangasm. Some of the other girls were struggling to slow their heart rates as well, and smiled at me knowingly. It was a moment of silent bonding. Then I saw that the line outside the building still stretched down the block. Most of those people would not get to meet Gerard. However, they DID get to meet the local Jesus Man, who was haranguing them about how they were going to hell. They weren't buying it. It was hilarious.
I listened to TBP the whole subway ride home, while reading the comic book. I love it! The art is awesome, the story is inspired, and the whole thing glows darkly with Gerardyness. Can't wait for the second issue.
God, what a day. Hanging out with all those people, knowing that despite our differences we shared a love for this band -- the music, the men, and the art of it -- gave me a warm feeling of community. And the moment of glory was over so fast, but it was so great.I'm so lucky! He only did TWO signings - New York and Boston! As if it was possibly for me to adore this guy more.
This is me with my prize:
I really want to go as one of the Umbrella kids for Halloween, but alas, no one would get it.
So long and good night!
I need to start friending some more MCR people if I'm going to keep being such a teeny fangirl. *sigh* It's still a manga-journal (I promise). XD
I met him at Newbury Comics on Newbury Street.
Let’s back up a bit. Earlier this week I stumbled across this little notice on the intrawebs. O RLY, I thought. Gee is signing his new comic book in Boston. That. Is rather close to me. Both out of loyalty and a genuine interest in what his odd little brain came up with, I had planned on picking up a copy of The Umbrella Academy anyway. What was the catch? I phoned Newbury, who said wristbands distributed when the store opened at 10 would guarantee priority in line when Gerard showed up at 4. My classes ran from 12 to 3. Perfect.
I woke myself up at 7:30 so I could get in line by 8:30. Conveniently, the T-stop was in clear sight of the storefront, and right away I spotted a gaggle of tired-looking teens in MCR shirts and decidedly tweemo attire. It took me a minute to realize that the line was in fact much longer - perhaps 50-60 people, including some accompanying parents. So I got in line and waited.
The kids in front of me in line were really physically small. I could tell from their vocabularies and their discussion of A.P.s that that they were high schoolers, but wow…they were small. They were all wearing blue jeans, black hoodies, studded belts, Chucks or Vans, and some article that said “My Chemical Romance” on it. They had made posters for the band, and one girl had made a black umbrella and striped scarf for her carebear and was going to give it to him. The girls were falling all over this one guy, who was nonchalantly telling stories of meeting several other bands in person. It was amusing.
More amusing, though, were the consistent expressions of bewilderment on the faces of the normal people passing by. "Who are you guys waiting in line for?" they always asked. Replies ranged from the obvious ("Gerard Way," "MCR," "My Chemical Romance," which often had to be revealed in succession to the clueless passerby) to the ironicly subtle ("It's a comic book signing") to the outright brilliant ("Godot," "Bon Jovi"). One girl didn't ask us anything, but I heard her mumble something about Avril Lavigne. Ouch. A middle-aged man muttered, "It must be the Beatles." One woman smiled brightly and said, "He's so lucky! He's got such great fans!" MCR fandom is indeed special. It seems to be contagious. The mother of a girl standing near me seemed to know everything about all the band members. "Gerard got married?" she asked me. "I wasn't sure if that was just an internet rumor."
I am absolutely fascinated by alternative youth culture, and particularly of MCR fandom. Based on this and on my concert experience in Worcester, I felt like I had two sample populations on which to base my anthropological fieldwork (though in reality it was probably the same population). My thesis is that MCR fans, like the band itself, are a unique bunch. Not your regular crop of emo kids. And I was going to include a side note on this study of mine, but it ended up doubling the length of the post, so I'll save it for a future time.
When I returned at 3:30, the line had swollen and extended down the entire block. Fortunately, my wristband enabled me to jump to the front half. As 4pm drew nearer, even more people climbed onto the back of the line. I found myself with a group of twentysomethings who worked and went to school in the area, and we commiserated over feeling old. Watching the other fans was amusing. A rather obnoxious group of youngsters wearing Burger King crowns took it upon themselves to sing MCR songs together while waiting for the signing to start. There was plenty of eyecandy for me: gorgeous girls with to-die-for hair, and boys in tight pants. But my favorite fan of all was a burly, twenty-something "tough guy" in a wifebeater who looked like he could take all of MCR out with one punch. I might have assumed he was here for his girlfriend's benefit, had the gorgeous tattoo of the Black Parade mascot on his forearm not been so strikingly visible. Now that is hardcore.
The company of my fellow collegians made the hour-long procession through the store rather enjoyable in and of itself. As we wound through the aisles, we found ourselves tempted by $8.99 CDs, Neil Gaiman anthologies, and Sid Vicious and David Bowie action figures. At that point, store workers broke the heartbreaking news to us: they would only let us give Gerard one item to sign. I can understand why they'd want to move the line along if people are demanding to get their CDs and their sneakers and their chests signed, butI was just hoping to get a signed book for Jenny along with my own. No such luck. One girl I was with was in the same situation. But we were still pretty psyched. We made bets on how much coffee Gerard would have with him. We all know him so well, it's kind of disturbing. XD
I finally got in sight of Gerard, and my heart did a little dance.
(I did not take this picture, because I'm a goody goody. I stole it from some internet girl.) I was displeased and yet unsurprised that he wore his horrible Michael Jackson sunglasses. Seriously dude, your eyes make your face. You’re indoors. Take them the hell off! It would have felt much more personal had I been able to see his eyes. But he looked great anyway, and...surprisingly big. Well, not big, just…close-up. Life-size. Kinda like how the stuffed animals in natural history museums look so much bigger than you realized they actually were? And I loved his outift! It was so good to see him wear a tie again -- I think is meant to mirror the Umbrella Academy attire, but it also reminded me of the Not Okay getup. And his hair is looking good these days too! It's getting long and Elvis-esque. I wonder if he'll grow it back to his classic '05 look. As long as he doesn't go blond again, we're good. He had three venti Starbucks cups atop the table. I called that! I watched him sign for the girl ahead of me. Then it was my turn.
“Hi, I’m Gerard,” he said as he shook my hand.
Yeah, I know who you are, Gerard. XD He is so adorkable. LOVE.
So I told him who I was. He signed and personalized my book in silver ink, while I told him how much I love and respect what he does. I gave him a drawing of the band in their Black Parade uniforms, which I made shortly after the May concert.
From cartoonist to cartoonist. When I gave him the picture, he smiled the most genuine smile. I was so glad I had thought to bring it! He thanked me, still smiling, and I thanked him too, and went on my merry way.
The moment I got outside the door I had a bit of a fangasm. Some of the other girls were struggling to slow their heart rates as well, and smiled at me knowingly. It was a moment of silent bonding. Then I saw that the line outside the building still stretched down the block. Most of those people would not get to meet Gerard. However, they DID get to meet the local Jesus Man, who was haranguing them about how they were going to hell. They weren't buying it. It was hilarious.
I listened to TBP the whole subway ride home, while reading the comic book. I love it! The art is awesome, the story is inspired, and the whole thing glows darkly with Gerardyness. Can't wait for the second issue.
God, what a day. Hanging out with all those people, knowing that despite our differences we shared a love for this band -- the music, the men, and the art of it -- gave me a warm feeling of community. And the moment of glory was over so fast, but it was so great.I'm so lucky! He only did TWO signings - New York and Boston! As if it was possibly for me to adore this guy more.
This is me with my prize:
I really want to go as one of the Umbrella kids for Halloween, but alas, no one would get it.
So long and good night!
I need to start friending some more MCR people if I'm going to keep being such a teeny fangirl. *sigh* It's still a manga-journal (I promise). XD