Back, about a decade ago, anime was a big part of my life. I collected issues of Animerica Magazine, had over a dozen volumes of the Lupin III manga, and kept a stack of DVDs. I liked all the big names: Cowboy Bebop, Excel Saga, FLCL. But above all of them was Goku, Gohan and the rest of the Dragon Ball Z crew. I fell hard for that show and although I haven’t seen it in years, I’m glad I did.
When I started high school, it was at a new school where I didn’t know a soul. I lived in a small town way up north of Toronto, and half the school was bussed in from the local countryside. These were people from even smaller towns than me. Some lived on the farmland a good half hour or more outside town. People age, but teens stay the same: they’re always trying to act older than they are and are obsessed with seeming like they’re adults.
Everyone was cool in that early 2000s kind of way: one clique wore oversized basketball jerseys, another Abercrombie and Fitch polos. People were into The OC, the Toronto Maple Leafs and bands like Korn. Needless to say, a young, anime-obsessed teen stood out like a neon sign with these people.
Eventually, I stumbled into a crowd of like-minded peers. Steve was the centre of the group. A large guy, older than the rest of us and both loud and crude, Steve was the person we all gravitated towards. A hardcore anime fan and a juggalo, Steve regularly sketched his way through lunch and wasn’t above wearing face paint to class. He was the first guy I met who was into Dragonball and, for a pretty long time, one of my closest friends.
There were others, too. There was a transplant from Churchill, Manitoba, a place so far north you had to fly in; Rick, a tall gawky guy with hearing aids; and stoner artist we all called Duff who was Steve’s sort-of apprentice. Some other people faded in and out of this circle, but generally it was us four.
We all hung out at lunch and shot the shit. Back before Facebook, Twitter or texting, I looked forward to hanging in the cafeteria at lunch with them. We’d talk about the series as we ate fries: what happened the night before, what did we think was next? We’d share our fanart, gossip, that sort of thing. Eventually, someone introduced the Dragonball card game and we’d play that for the better part of an hour, hanging out in the caf at lunch or on our spare period. Where other teens cut class to get high in the bushes out behind the school, we’d instead bring our binders down to the lunch room.
It seems hard to believe now, but in the heady days of 2003, Dragon Ball was big. I remember watching it on TV at eight pm every night. I remember my whole family sitting down to watch it. The local comic store didn’t just advertise their selling DBZ comics but held card game tournaments. Hell, even the local Wal-Mart got into the act, selling those shiny button-down shirts with Goku powering up. It was a cultural moment.
Still, in high school, it was decidedly uncool to talk about how Goku was running his way back from King Kai’s place or ask if Piccolo was a good role model for young Gohan. This was a place where people used to wear trucker hats to school without a sense of irony. I knew people who passed the time by getting high and wandering back and forth across the highway. I didn’t just know a guy named Jimbo, we used to hang out all the time.
Other animes were sort of popular among our clique: I liked Cowboy Bebop, I think Steve was into Gundam Wing. But generally, it was a lot of Goku talk. Why not? Goku was as powerful as anybody in the universe, but also a goofy, down-to-earth fella. He’d die saving the planet, get wished back to life and immediately make some god-awful, corny dad joke. What’s not to love? Of course, we all lapped it up.
As the years went by, the group expanded: new students would hear about us and join the group: Erik lived in a townhouse down the street from the school; Miles lived out of town and pushed British comedies on anyone he met. We’d all hang out and talk about how Cell was an asshole but Android 18 was a badass. At the centre of it all was Steve, who remained committed to Goku and pumped out fanart, eventually branching into designing original characters for us all.
One fall, I met a girl named Emily, who was also into anime; for about a year we’d hang out and watch movies together. For Christmas that year, she gave me an Azumanga Daioh DVD. It still sits on my shelf. A few months later, she told me about this event she’d be going to: Anime North. We didn’t go together, but on the Sunday, I talked my dad into driving me the three hours south to Airport Road and we wandered the halls of a now-demolished hotel. Of course, my big buy that day was some Dragon Ball manga, a bit of memorabilia that was impossible to find back up north.
By the time I hit grade 12, I was deciding to become more like my classmates and less like my circle of friends. Looking back, I see how insecure I was and how I was consciously trying to be someone I’m not; at the time, I probably said I was growing up. I still hung around Steve, Erik and everyone, but when they’d talk about Majin Buu, I’d read from a beat-up copy of The Great Shark Hunt I kept with me. Soon, I started hanging around on sites like Something Awful and started acting like an asshole in real life; I became friends with a guy named Aaron who introduced me to “trolling” and convinced me anime was something for stupid nerds.
By the time I graduated, I’d decided I was too cool for this kid stuff. I gave away my manga, threw the fanart in the trash and taped over my VHS copies of the Cell saga. I was 19 going on 30 and decided I had to act the part; that summer, I bought a copy of a Broken Social Scene record and a bunch of flannel shirts. I turned my back on Goku. I graduated, went to college, started drinking, stopped drinking, came out as trans, etc, etc.
Fast forward to a few months ago. I was at work, and saw one of my coworkers shopping on his day off, wearing one of those Goku graphic Ts. We got to talking about the show and our shared memories of it. He mentioned there’s a new Dragonball movie. It wasn’t great, he said, but if I liked the series already, it’d be worth a shot.
I’ve lost touch with Steve over the years, but I sometimes wonder what he’s up to, if he’s still watching, still drawing his OCs. I still haven’t watched the new movie, but it’s comforting to know Goku’s still around, saving the planet. I really should make some time.
***
Postscript, 2022
I wrote this essay maybe five years ago for a zine edited by Merritt K called BADMAN, where it ran under my dead name. It’s been unavailable since then, and since it’s one I enjoyed, I decided to run it here.
I still don’t know what happened to Steve. I saw him once, a few years ago, walking around downtown Orillia with his juggalo paint and a large gold crucifix. He had a rough life, but he also had a lot of talent and I hope he’s doing okay. I don’t know how anyone else from that group is doing these days.
This essay came about when Merritt posted something on Twitter asking for pitches, and although at the time I was still in the closet, I sent one in anyway. It was accepted and it came out and kind of vanished. I truthfully kind of hoped it would lead to something, but it never did - I doubt if Merritt even remembers the zine, let alone who I am. So it goes.
As I think back to anime from about 20 years ago, the more and more it seems like a bit of a cultural moment. Animerica Magazine had popularized the genre, and in its wake sprung up magazines like Newtype USA and Shonen Jump. There was anime blocks on cable tv and Saturday morning cartoons were all imported from Japan: Fighting Foodons, Digimon, etc. In what felt like a very short period of time, we went from having to explain to people that an upside U meant one’s eyes were closed to having debates on subs vs dubs. Nowadays any decently-sized bookstore has a manga section, Light in the Attic is selling anime soundtracks on vinyl, and Netflix has a live-action remake of Cowboy Bebop. Anime’s no longer a fringe thing, but in becoming so mainstream, it’s also kind of lost the outsider appeal it once held. I don’t know if a group like the one I had with Steve could happen now, or if it did, if it’d revolve around anime. I hope I managed to capture something of the effect it had on me with this piece.