Over the past few years, in every town I travel to I attempt to find a local comic book store. Its a great motivation for exercise and has lead me on some great adventures. Well, today in Minot, ND, I had the greatest adventure to date. When we checked into our hotel last night, as usual, I looked up comic book store on my maps app and it said that Toms Collectables was 1.1 miles away. I was very pleased to find a local shop close by and went to bed planning on taking a nice walk today to see the store. As I walked down Broadway Street on a brisk 46 degree overcast day, I called Denise to tell her were I was going. As I neared the shop I told her I would call her after I checked it out. I hung up and, much to my horror, my phone shut down. At 65% power! Great, I thought to myself, I wont even be able to take any pictures of this place now. Disappointed as I was, I walked across the street in an old, run-down part of Minot to the front of the store. Or, at least what I thought was the front, except that I could not find the door. I walked around the corner and saw one door, with three bullet hole looking holes in it. This cant be the entrance, I thought to myself as I circled back to the other side of the corner building to make sure I had not missed an entrance. Nope. Nothing. Just the three-bullet-hole-looking door with stacks of boxes against its side windows. I guess this is it, I thought as I pushed on the front bar of the door, half expecting it to be locked and the store not open. The door opened, but only partially, as it struck a pile of random collectables stacked immediately behind it. I turned sideways and squeezed into the entry way finding myself in what appeared to be an episode of Hoarders. There were boxes of collectables everywhere in no apparent order. A strong mildew smell permeated everything, along with a subtle hint of dog. A bell had sounded as I entered through the door and I heard old stairs creek as an small, grey haired gentleman approached from the second floor balcony that overlook half of the store. Hi, I greeted the older man as he creaked down the stairs towards me. Want do you want? he said to me gruffly as I stood admits piles of collectable coins and old records. Im just looking for some comic books, I replied cheerfully, trying to put him at ease. I searched for local comic stores on my phone and your store came up. Well, what kind of comics do you want? the man gruffly retorted. I have a third of a million comic books here. You have to be specific. Oh, wow, I replied with a smile, still trying to thaw his chilly demeanor. Do you have modern comic books, or just back issues? I have some comics from 2013 up here, responded the man, not warmed yet at all by my positive attempts. At this point, I had been glancing around his hoard and I caught sight of some comics in racks on the second floor that looked like they were from the 70s. This really excited me as I thought this old guy probably has some amazing comics buried in here! Well, I responded to the man, I do read some modern comics, but I have everything I need from recent issues. I do really love vintage Uncanny X-Men though. Do you have any of those issues? I have a third of a million comics here, of course I do, came a snide retort. I thought you wanted modern comics? At this point I almost walked out. He seemed irritated that I had walked into his store and his irritation seemed to be increasing with me by the second. I had no interest in bickering with an old hoarder and I thought it was time to go. As I turned to leave he said come over here and take a look at some of these, and he bobbed and weaved his way through stacks of memorabilia, and disappeared, not bothering to see if I even followed him. I decided I had the time, so I very carefully wound my way through the stacks of tentatively stacked odds and ends, trying to follow where the man had gone. I found him standing in a very narrow aisle between a huge stack of shelves and one of the outer store windows which was mostly obscured by stacks of boxes of cards - baseball, football, movies, and even comic cards - all bleached to the same white-yellow that anything subjected to the relentlessness of sunlight eventually succumbs to. Here, the man barked as he pointed to several boxes on the lower shelf containing a mishmash of comic books in old, stained boxes, from the past couple of years. Thanks, I said cheerfully as I started to half-heartedly comb through the boxes of random comics, feeling obligated to at least give them a once over for bugging the guy. Why are you here? the older man suddenly, yet gruffly, asked me. Now, as philosophical as it sounded, I just didnt think the man would appreciate a clever response. Already feeling as though I was on thin ice with him I decided I would be very straight forward. I replied that I was a musician in town to perform at the Norsk Festival. Finally the mans posture began to relax and he followed up with the same question everyone asks when I give that answer: who are you performing with? He did however, follow up with a nice additional Some rock and roll band or something? I smiled, mainly being proud that I looked somewhat like a rock and roll band member, to which I will attribute my bad hair and habit of wearing all black, and replied no, not a rock band. Im in town playing with Doc Severinsen. Now over the years, going back to my days with Maynard Ferguson, I have given many similar responses like this. There is always one of two responses: The first response is a blank expression upon hearing the name of the artist Id mention and then a disappointed reply of Ive never heard of him. Or, the second response is a big smile, wide eyes and a reply of Oh wow! I know him! This second response, thankfully, was the one I received today from the older, grumpy, gentleman. Well, that was the ice breaker. He immediately shifted his entire demeanor and shook my hand introducing himself as Tom and welcomed me to Minot. Over the next hour he took me all over his store, showing me random collectables and telling me wild stories, of which at least 25% of them were 80% true. He even showed me his basement stockpile of comics. It was as he was telling me to walk through a narrow door at the back of the store into a totally pitch black basement that I really lamented my phone being dead in case he locked me down there. I discretely tried to turn my phone on as I asked him to lead the way into the comic book basement abyss and was delighted that my phone suddenly powered on! I proceeded to snap some pics that you will see below to document the adventure. Multiple times I asked if I could buy something from him to remember him and his store by, hopefully to both maybe score a cool vintage comic book and to repay him for all the time he was spending with me, but Tom would just launch into another wild tale about some random item hed pick off of a nearby shelf. Eventually one of Toms friends stopped in and launched into his own stories, so I shook Toms hand and thanked him for spending time showing me around his amazing store and tried to make my exit. Twenty minutes of his friends inane stories later, I awkwardly squeezed by the man and left Toms Collectables the same was I had entered. It was quite the adventure! Maybe I didnt buy anything, but I gained an experience I will never forget. If you are ever in Minot, ND, head down Broadway Street until you see Toms Collectables. I promise you will never forget it!
Posted on: Mon, 29 Sep 2014 21:41:58 +0000
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