Last week, I spent most of my time on the road between home base in southwest Missouri and Dolan Springs, AZ, not far from the Nevada-Arizona border. My friend's father passed away a few years ago, and left him some land; this was the first opportunity that he had to go check it out, and he didn't want to make the drive alone, so I rode along. We stopped in Roswell, NM on the way home, so that was the selling point for me.

For most of my life, I have been pretty self-interested. I have been married a couple of times, and both of those--as well as a string of dysfunctional friends with benefits and casual relationships--had led me to believe that the only person interested in making me content was me. I recently remarried and I still feel this to a certain degree. I suspect that this is why I embraced superhero fandom. Being a loner who can't 100% commit to telling anyone the truth, even those that one claims to love, is romanticized as being heroic. The fantasy is that heroes can put on masks and escape from being themselves and become genuine people, capable of doing something for the common good.

On the trip, some things occurred that have changed my perspective. For one, I saw the Painted Desert, and it gave me this overwhelming urge to experience more of the world. This sounds pretty selfish, but what I mean to say is that I don't want to take the world for granted. I'm an agnostic, but looking out over the vastness of Arizona, I couldn't help but feel like I was beholding the work of a higher power. Next, there were four times during the trip I was confronted with the fragility of human life. At Mile Marker 91, not far from Albuquerque, there was an accident involving two semis and a car carrier. My friend and I were on the opposite side of the interstate, heading the other way, but I don't hold out a lot of hope for the survival of those drivers. The cabins of the three vehicles were all but obliterated, and the remains of the trucks were heavily damaged. The next morning, my friend and I were almost robbed. Someone marked our hotel room with a bottle of laundry detergent, and two dudes showed up, claiming to be looking for "Joe." As soon as my friend answered the door and they gave this flimsy excuse, they left the parking lot without a backwards glance. They didn't check any of the other rooms to see if they had just knocked on the wrong door. My friend thinks they lost their nerve when they saw he wasn't traveling alone. We also saw a sleep-deprived trucker nearly run a man off the road. This was terrifying to watch, and when I was driving, I worried about pulling alongside the same semi to pass him. Finally, we both realized at the end of the week that we had gone seven days without comics. We'd embraced real life together and found it more rewarding than staying in our comfort zones.

This is why I am writing today. Life is too short and too awesome to keep your nose in comics 24/7. Yes, read! Yes, enjoy comics. Just don't let that be the totality of your existence. Please find happiness with other people-friends, family, whatever. Don't settle. Never settle.