I used to have it occasionally with family members who would express contempt, ‘I don’t know what you see in those things’, that type of comment, while having obsessions themselves such as cowboys and the Wild West.
I can deal with ignorance and vitriol like that, having put up with it ever since I started collecting as a kid in the 70s. Simple stubbornness, but it’s something I care a lot about, a contrary opinion is irrelevant, and always will be.
The best example I’ve got goes back to my final year at university, pre-Christmas 1988. I’d met another comic book fan in my year on my course, and our group were exchanging presents. As a comic reader who I knew had some taste, I got him a copy of a Captain Britain trade paperback, which resulted with a big ‘Ewww… !’ from his girlfriend and a couple of others there. To us, fantastic comics from two all-time great creators, Alan Moore and Alan Davis, to the others the clear equivalent of presenting a steaming turd in a box. The recipient, however, was very happy with the seasonal gift of comics, which was what mattered, even if the outsiders couldn’t understand.