Motorcycle

I see today that they’re making a Ghost Rider movie. I discovered Ghost Rider when I was about thirteen years old, at my regular haunt, Collector’s Comics of Wantagh, New York. I was a late bloomer to comic books, having been introduced to them by my D&D buddy, Marc Koenig. Like most things new in my life, I quickly became hooked and soon after, obsessed. I started small, with X-Men, Daredevil, and Thor. Oh, and I was lucky enough to be there for the Wolverine miniseries. The X-Men were about to embark on their second fight with the Brood, Daredevil was looking for direction after his lover had died, and I can’t remember what was happening to poor Thor. What I do remember, though, was that crossovers got me to buy more books, and if I bought an issue I bought into the series. I was a Marvel man all the way, and they played me like a fiddle. At sixty cents an ish, I was soon spending twenty bucks a week and was a member of the discount club, adding to the savings I got by preordering my subscriptions. One of those that I ordered was Ghost Rider, the continuing story of the much-cursed Johnny Blaze, host to a demon motorcyclist.

Now a tale about a demonic motorcycle rider might seem like it’s only appealing to tattoo artists and Harley salesmen, and perhaps tasteless teenagers, and that probably isn’t that far off. Ghost Rider created solid objects out of Hellfire

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