I accompanied my wife this weekend to New Jersey so she could attend the annual NJ Romance Writers convention, and while she was occupied there, I dashed into Manhattan and Brooklyn for adventures about which more will be revealed later. But we joined together yesterday for what to me is always the highlight of any trip to the New York City area—a visit with our comics friend Marie Severin, my favorite among all the people I met in comics. (Well … except for my wife.)

While typing these words, it occurred to me that I’ve known Marie for most of my life, even longer than I’ve known Irene, with the weekend of the 1972 EC Fan Addict convention being the latest possible date we would have met. And I’ve loved her from the start. If you knew her, too, you’d know … how could anyone not?

We took her out for lunch (as is our tradition), and stuffed her with as much Italian food as she could stand. We chatted for hours about the time she carried a replica gold bar home from her job at the Federal Reserve, causing some consternation for one of the security guards, the tragic death of Joe Maneely, the early days at Marvel when Stan Lee really would leap upon his desk to properly convey to the artists a heroic pose he wanted (so stories of that occurring weren’t apocryphal after all), and more.

We also filled her in on what was up with all her old comics friends, delivering news of those who’d passed since our last visit, and what those who were still with us were doing.

We also brought along a few gifts, one of which truly tickled the former Incredible Hulk artist—a pair of slip-on Hulk hands.

She hammed it up for what seemed like half an hour or more, riffing hilariously on what she would do were she suddenly to become that jade giant.

And then, as you can see, things got out of hand … er … hands.

Don’t worry, though! She eventually calmed down, and returned to her peaceful, mirthful self.

Which is how we left her, after far too few hours of fun. But then, no matter how many hours we could have had with her, they would always be too few.

We love you, Marie!

And so does everyone else.