Elevator Madness

Elevator Madness

or: Heart to Heart

Bad news and good news. Seems our old buddy Barry Windsor-Smith (silly Brit that he is) went and had himself a stroke. Latest word is he's out of the hospital and doing much better. YEA! So, let's all wish Barry a big, GET WELL SOON!

I first almost didn't meet Barry during my first year in the Big Apple a few months into my rookie run on the X-Folk. I've gone into the city to drop off new pages. I'm waiting in the lobby for an elevator to show up. There's another fellow there with a portfolio under his arm. 

Maybe he's a fellow Marvelite, I should say hello. Then, for some reason I think: wait for the elevator to show up and see which button he pushes. It's a big building, he could be going anywhere.

We step into the elevator and he pushes the button for the tenth floor, the offices of Marvel Comics. Again, I think I should speak up. But, I don't. Maybe he's not a club member, maybe he's just a wanna-be or delivery boy. Let's wait till we hit the tenth floor and see if he has to ask for directions.

The doors to the elevator open, he stops at the reception desk and I go walking by because I know where I'm going and he doesn't and aren't I the clever fellow for having avoided him and possibly making a fool of myself.

In those days, the Marvel Bullpen was a living, breathing thing. Full of people and noise and stuff going on (unlike the empty morgue I found the last time I visited) It took me a while to talk and work my way through the crowd back to Weezie's office (X-Editor Louise Jones/Simonson)

Stepping into the office, what should I see but Weezie chatting up the fellow from the elevator. Weezie sees me, her eyes light up and she says: Smitty, have you ever met  Barry Windsor-Smith!?! D'OH!

The moral of the story: the next chance you have to be a swell-headed, butt faced, uncivilized Jerk... let the opportunity pass and say hello.

Barry, get well soon! We love you. I love you.

Happy Trails,

Smitty