Prisoner of Fame

Imagine, if you will, the subtle torture that is being marginally famous. You're famous enough to be forced to deal with the many hassles of celebrities - like random people wanting to take a photo with you. You're not famous enough/rich enough to retire, and so you got to work, just like most folks.

Sure, you could go into Law Talkin', or Doctorin', but you're semi-famous! Where you gonna find the time to go to Law Talkin' School anyways? And so you hussle - a bit role here, a commercial there, maybe a play or two, a book, anything, really, just to pay the bills. But then you discover the Comic Convention circuit, and suddenly, you're marginally set for life.

Except, you have to attend these ComicConventions, sit all day and be pleasant, and sign sign sign autographs/take pictures, for some of the most desperate nerds this desperate world has ever produced.

And thus, the above: Stan Lee, posing with one of his creations. Can you feel the despair?