My wife Pam puts up with a lot. (As do other wives of comics fans, but let them get their own blogs.) Since 1994, she’s learned more about Jack Kirby and comic books than any woman other than Roz Kirby should have to. She’s followed me to countless conventions, and sat there patiently answering questions from fans who assume she’s as big a comics geek as I am (she’s not, folks). Which is not to say we haven’t had a lot of fun together doing the publishing thing, but most of it tends to come when we hang out with comics friends and DON’T do anything comics-related. Anyway, January 16th was our 20th wedding anniversary (and the 17th anniversary of opening our advertising agency, and Pam’s parents’ gazillionth wedding anniversary, and what would’ve been her godmother’s 119th birthday if she were still around; she lived to be 102). But having little kids and busy schedules, we put off the actual celebration until tomorrow night, when our sis-in-law’s in town to watch the young ‘uns. I’ll be taking her to a really great Japanese steakhouse for din-din, where I’ve arranged it so the chef’ll be tossing her a particularly blingy surprise in-between chunks of tempura vegetables and hibatchi chicken. I’ll let you know how it goes (thankfully, she doesn’t read blogs, not even her old man’s, so the surprise will be kept, as long as none of you spoil it). But believe me, anyone who’ll stay married to me for 20 years deserves all our praise. So next time you see her sitting behind the table at a TwoMorrows convention booth, stop over and tell her how much you appreciate her letting me spend so much time away from her, and with all of you out there.