I mean, just last issue, he saw his old partner The Eagle for no reason I understand, surely that was an indicator that Mr. America was plummeting down the abyss …

Given the sense of abandonment and danger in this issue, it shouldn’t seem too surprising that my parents were going through a separation at the time, but I actually don’t think that had much to do with the storytelling here. I think I just loved over-the-top drama and the kind of histrionic over-reacting that comics – most particularly Marvel Comics – dealt in. Superheroes really are little more than soap opera for boys and that’s what I was latching onto here, and in other places. I was a little kid, though, so I didn’t really understand the intricacies of what leads to such emotional turmoil, even though some of them were very obviously going on in front of my eyes.

"It's just my lips are dry. Got any balm?"

Hence, Mr. America #11.

Nothing much happens here physically of any importance – what’s at the center of the conflict is the guilt Mr. America seems to feel, the level to which he misses his friend and old partner, the bad father/son relationship between The Panther and The Skull … this is the glue that holds together the heists, the explosions, the battles. Even my 8-year-old developing creative brain got that – so much so that I could craft a half issue psychodrama and call it complete.

Let’s be blunt here – no one really loved Star Wars until their was a real love triangle and Darth Vader was Luke’s father. Until, that is, it became a soap opera with technical window dressing. People can obsess about light sabers all they want, but it’s the weepy stuff that keeps them paying attention. And so it became with superheroes. Even mine.

"Let me rephrase that. No, wait, let me rephrase that instead."