I just read "The Last Days of Stan Lee," David Hochman's account of the heartbreaking tragedy of the Marvel Comics creator. As Lee grew old, and after his wife died, Lee was pretty much controlled by his dysfunctional daughter and a trio of his onetime inner circle employees who chiseled away and drained much of his family fortune, as well as being participants in elder abuse. The writer describes an account of Lee becoming completely dependent on these associates. They would present him at Signing appearances, where according to some observers, they would place a Sharpie in his hand and dictate to him how he should sign the Marvel Comics presented to him by his adoring fans, who paid $80 for each signature. He was tired and fatigued but he was forced to oblige. A complicated and tragic tale still unfolding, as I understand it.
Some years ago, when we had an avid baseball card collector in the family, we drove to a Card Show, at the Polish -American Club, a large venue which had dozens and dozens of booths set up. That was where the young collector's interest lay. I noticed a raised platform along one wall. On it sat a slightly disheveled and definitely disgruntled-looking Ted Williams, autographing his cards for $25 a signature. Ted William's golden hour was too long past to interest our collector, so we didn't buy his signature. Since he was seated on a riser above floor level, I could see Ted Williams was wearing white socks slouched down over a pair of scuffed brown loafers.
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