In 1987, I went into the Middle Grove Market on Silverton Road in Salem, OR and picked up a comic book from the shelf.
It was G.I. Joe #66 and it had Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow on the cover, sneaking into a gulag to rescue their friends.
I read this comic over and over. I didn’t have much when I was 10, especially after just arriving to Oregon from Edmonton, Alberta.
The comic was so important to me that I brought it to school, and even took it out to the playground to read it while the other kids ran, jumped and climbed. Naively, I assumed all the other children in 5th grade would be kind, respectful and considerate like the good little boys and girls in Canada. Boy, was I wrong.
There was one little boy in my class that loved to pick on me. He was a monkey-faced motherfucker named Eric Gaboury. I hated him. He saw me on the playground with my comic book and snatched it out of my hands and ran away with it. I chased after him and when I got close, he tossed it to another boy, and he tossed it to a third boy and I yelled and screamed at them to stop because they were destroying it. By the time they were done, it was a torn up mess on the ground. I picked it up, tried to fix it and went back to class, crying.
Side note: In the summer between 6th and 7th grade, I was at Scott Elementary to get info about the middle school I was to attend in the fall. I went around to the back of the school and Eric was there with two of his friends. They were all on bikes. I was alone. They cornered me, intimidated me and Eric punched me in the stomach and I fell over, crying. They left and I walked around to the front of the school where other students and parents were, while still crying. I told some of them what happened, but those boys never faced any consequences.
Years passed and I held onto both the comic book and the memory of what happened. Could I have thrown it away? Sure, but a part of me wanted to remember what they did and how I persevered. Hanging onto it was more of a symbol of how I wasn’t gonna let some schoolyard bully take something away from me.
The characters in the book became friends that I could rely on when I felt weak. Snake Eyes was a source of strength when I was at my lowest. He was an inspiration. As time went on, the idea of the character helped me through rough times. He might be fictional, but he’s a character that I aspire to be.
I recently discovered that the creator of Snake Eyes, and many other G.I. Joe characters will be at a toy convention in Sacramento, CA on April 26, 27. I plan to fly down there and introduce myself to Mr. Larry Hama, asking him to sign #66, telling him the story of what happened in 1987, showing him the arashikage tattoo I got a few years ago and asking if I have his blessing to use the name “DJ Snake Eyes.”
It will cost roughly $200 to fly down, rent a car and go to the convention. All for one guy’s autograph? Yeah. I’m gonna do it.
