There's only one way to put it — we come from different dimensions. I generally travel in 3-D. Lois brought all her spunk to the printed page. Two dimensions. But it was love at first sight. That would've been when I was about 10, and first noticed this sassy lady hanging out at my local drug store.
The block letters of her logo were an instant magnet to a lonely kid like me. Who is this dame called Loys? I thought (well, I was only 10, and all the subtleties of English hadn't been mastered).
She's pretty. She's perky. And, as drawn by Kurt Schaffenberger, all her lines were in the right places, if ya know what I mean. Yeah, Curt Swan and the other DC artists drew Lois okay, but for me, Schaffenberger's Lois was the only real Lois.
When I first got to know Lois, she was in her 30s. That is, her magazine was. And, caught helplessly in the lure of her four-color covers, I slowly gave in. I watched shamelessly as she pushed her way into every scoop known to mankind. I saw her belittle coworker Clark Kent for being such a sissy, not knowing he was her forever guy, Superman.
I thrilled as she shamelessly fought tooth and nail for Supey's affections, through real life, outer space, other dimensions, the past, present and future, and in imaginary tales ("which may or may not ever happen," the reader was cautioned) which spun a concept other comic books were quick to copy.
She went back to Smallville (where Superman was Superboy) and tried to prevent him from meeting Lana Lang. She tried to murder him and pin it on Lana when he wouldn't give in and marry her even after she had taken a serum to make her invulnerable. (Supe's excuse before that was always that criminals would harm his Earth family were he ever to marry.)
Lois never gave up, even when pursued by men of all stripes, from an Arab sheik to a rich blond hunk or even a hero astronaut (who could do a mean frug). Oh, yes — they all succumbed to the brainy beauty's charms. But none quite like I did.
I followed her from adventure to adventure, hoping against all hope that Superman would give in and marry her. I wanted her to be happy. Since I couldn't have her, I willingly granted that honor to Superman. I watched her grovel for the Man of Steel.
Lois, choking back tears, would swear that the next time, Superman would be hers. Or that she would never put herself in such an unladylike position again. But, God bless her, she always did.
That's okay, Lois, I would tell her, as I turned the page to start the next adventure. You'll always have me. She never *choke* responded. Couldn't, can't you see?
By the standards of today's women, Lois and her universe might seem very much a throwback. Men were men, and women were women, and even though Lois had the distinction of being on her own and having a career, she really existed for Superman. (Of course, who wouldn't want an invulnerable hunk like ol' black-and-blue hair? That was Schaffenberger's fault, too--drawing sexy women and men. Made your subconscious work overtime.)
Lois was vain, egocentric, and selfish...yeah, human. I loved her all the more for it. She was also a crusader for justice, part-time Florence Nightingale, and genuinely caring when it came to friends and family...and fans. Did you know she was personally involved in the Lois Lane fan club? Even to the point of which fans could get in and which didn't have the right stuff? (Eat your heart out, Studio 54!)
But mostly, Lois was what you call a true romantic.
Through it all, Lois held her head proudly. And by issue #80, she'd had it, literally ripping the appendage "Girl Friend" from the top of her magazine cover. Things were changing, in Lois' universe and my own. Lois was wearing mini-skirts and being drawn by artists other than Schaffenberger. (*Gasp!*) In fact, it was around this time that he left Lois Lane, although he would draw her later, in the mid-seventies. It just wasn't *sob* the same. But what ever is?
I was growing up, becoming a hippie, and getting ready for college. It was the Summer of Love. Time to put my feelings for a paper babe behind me. Mom finished the job when she threw out my too-tall stacks of comics the second I left for school. Mom, *sob* how could ya??!!
No matter. Years passed. I didn't think much of Lois, and even when she reared her head, as Margot Kidder or Teri Hatcher, it wasn't the Lois I had loved and lost. Eventually, as we knew she would, she got her man. But that Lois was a stranger to me. It would be many years before I found my Lois again.
A little more than a decade ago, my best friend, Craig, took me to a comic store. "There's nothin' for me here," I argued. "Shut up, you mook, and look around," he insisted. There I found, among the stacks of comics, an *Omigod!* Schaffenberger Lois. It was 50 cents. I eagerly purchased it, and have been buying back pieces of my youth ever since.
Lois hasn't changed much. She's still spunky, still knows how to grab a byline, and still goes dizzy for you-know-who. Kinda nice to know, in this wacky three-dimensional world of ours, that some things will never change.
Like Lois & Me. We're devoted to each other, even though not a single glance or the softest whisper has passed between us. I'm Lois' forever guy now. And that's how we both like it.
Everybody thinks about Superman when they think of Lois Lane, Girl Reporter. But what about me? Lois and I go way back. It was Lois and Mike first. Lois & Clark? Ahhh, they just did that to make the romantics in the audience happy. See, Lois and me--that wasn't such an easy deal.
Lois tried all kinds of tricks. But though you could tell Superman got off on all the attention, or liked being the object of desire, or something, no dice. Any time marriage reared its head in the pages of Lois Lane, it was either a fake, some kind of trick, or imaginary.