One of my most vivid childhood memories is sitting on my grandmother’s lap reading the comics, or “funnies,” as we called them. I grew up in Atlanta, but both of my parents are from Kansas City, and all our extended family remains there. We took at least two trips back each year for as long as I could remember: one over summer vacation and then every Christmas. Each morning during those stays, I would run from my bed in mom’s childhood room to the “new room,” a small sunroom my grandparents added to the modest 1950s ranch home. Here, my grandmother had what I consider to be the most quintessential grandmother’s chair: oversized, plush, pink, floral, spacious for one, and the perfect fit for her and me to cuddle up – it was made for us. On a small ottoman nearby, the day’s Kansas City Star would be neatly folded until I b-lined toward the paper, tossing away the superfluous sections until I extracted the comics from the bunch.…