If You Happen To Be In Northern Michigan….

Ruminations On Ringo And Mortality

This past Sunday, Mike Wieringo passed away.

He was 44, a vegetarian, and according to all reports, in excellent health. He died of a massive heart attack.

I wanted to write about this on Monday, when I found out. I didn’t have the words.

I didn’t know Mike well, I had only met him a few times at various comic shows over the years. He was a nice guy, easy to talk with, and a very talented artist. His work on Spider-man in the late 90’s was one of the few bright spots in a dismal period for Marvel. His Fantastic Four run with writer Mark Waid was the best that book had seen since John Byrne.

44 is far too young to lose such a talent.

In 2001, a very close friend of mine died of a similar heart attack. He was 50 and in excellent health. It was the first time I had experienced death and I didn’t take it very well. When the shock wore off, I spent weeks questioning my own mortality, something I had never done before.

Mike’s passing, sudden and expected, brought all those feelings back.

When my friend died, 50 was a long way away. I’m 39 now and 44 seems frighteningly close.

I don’t think I’ll be sleeping well for the next couple of weeks. And maybe I’ll start exercising more. Eating better. Drinking less.

Until the immediacy fades and old habits reassert themselves, as they do. Damn.

So long, Mike. Rest well.