Goodbye, old friend

Wednesdays are usually happy days for comic book fans. It's the day new books arrive in stores. It's the day we read the next chapter in our favorite serials. It's the day we can pretend we're kids again. But it's with a heavy heart that I think about comics this Wednesday. For this is one of the last Wednesdays that my favorite comic store, Jimmy Jams, is open in Rochester, Minn.

Open since 2003, Jimmy Jams can best be described as a welcoming haven for geeks of all stripes. With a wide array of comics, games and other merchandise, the store offers something to please anyone. You want to read the latest Marvel crossover? No problem. You want to chuckle at a "Superman" issue written 40 years ago? Sure thing. You want to find an obscure manga, grab a used video game, or buy some "Magic" boosters? They got you covered. Jimmy Jams is an oasis of coolness in the blase desert that is Rochester.

And that oasis is populated by some great people. Once upon a time, I coordinated HeroClix tournaments that were held in the store's large gaming space. Long before my Saturday afternoons were dedicated to kung fu lessons, I presided over the rolls of dice and movement of miniatures, doling out prizes twice a month. The players were great. As were the onlookers. As were the customers I met when I frequently stopped to chat or buy another trade paperback. There's just something about the store that's calming and enveloping.

Undoubtedly, the store's greatest asset is its manager, Mark. A man of infinite kindness, enthusiasm and comic-book knowledge, Mark is the kind of employee that any specialty store would envy. He knows his store's inventory and how to sell it. But more importantly, he cares about his customers. He knows how to help them -- even the lost ones who haven't bought a comic in years -- find what they seek. He thinks as fans do because he is one. That's what made it so fun to hang in the store with him.

Back when we lived in Rochester, Annie and I would often swing by Jimmy Jams on nights or weekends Mark was working, just to chat. Our conversations were so enjoyable, so relaxed, that it felt like we were simply talking over beers as I browsed the bookshelves of someone's parlor. It was only when the door opened and a customer entered that I remembered we were in a store.

My favorite store.

And now it's closing.

Privy as I was to some inner workings, the news still hit me like a ton of back issues. The simple truth is the store couldn't thrive in the current economy, plagued first by a downturn, then a recession, and now something that seems on the cusp of depression. I had hoped the store could weather it all, but Jimmy Jams, like many small comic shops around the country, is crying uncle. It saddens me. It saddens me more than I can fully explain.

The going-out-of-business sale has begun. Most items have had their prices slashed in half. The lights will go dark at the end of this month. Today is one of the last times the store will receive a shipment of new comics.

Thank goodness that Annie and I were able to spend time in Jimmy Jams when we went to Minnesota earlier this year. Thank goodness we were able to hang there with Mark and his wife, Susan, one last time. And thank goodness we have so many fond memories we will take with us. It's the store that truly brought me back into comics after I'd abandoned them in college. It's the store where Annie and I learned to play our favorite game, "Betrayal at House on the Hill." It's the store that worked selflessly each year to raise money for the Rochester Public Library. It's the store that more than once stayed open all night to host a 24-hour game day.

It's the store... It's the store that let you be yourself. And for that, we can never thank it enough.

Goodbye, old friend. We'll miss you.