“Why read comic books? It's a waste of time if you ask me,” says my mother in exasperation, reading her newest Ladies Home Journal.

"You are going to regret the amount of money you spent on those things when you are older,” my father says, while piecing together a model car he recently got "on sale" for $30.

I am sick of hearing all that crap!

I have a hobby – a very profitable one, I might add. One that brings me happiness when I am depressed and excitement when I am bored with life. My parents should be grateful to the comic book industry– without it, I would have gone insane long ago!

It’s funny, but people in comic books also help you to see how bad things can get – how much worse off other people are than you and your trivial problems. Comic books put life into perspective. You think you have it bad? Imagine being the incredible hulk, and not knowing when you will turn into a raging gumby on steroids, and then tell me about your teen peer-pressure.

Superheroes know where it's at. They know when to play it cool and not incite a distraction, and when to hang low and keep their collective mouths shut. They have brains and logic, and capes. Capes are good. They can hide you from the world – they can shield your feelings and leave the enemy to underestimate you, bringing about their downfall.

It is what makes up a comic book – knowing that you can fly and even die, only to come back in the next issue and save the citizens of New York from certain extinction at the hands of an evil madman.

This need to find hope and great art is what feeds the addiction to buy more and more comics. So you don’t have lunch money for a few days; you still get to see wonder woman beating the joker to a pulp while the defeated batman and superman watch her save their spandex-clad butts.

Consider the payoff.

Then go over to Bill’s Bullpen and buy the next installment - hot off the racks.