diaries and photographs (in fact, sometimes they're better), because
they somehow manage to evoke specific moments in our pasts in an
almost tangible way. Very often, I've been so buried in a back issue
that I'm surprised when I look up from its pages to find I'm not still in
the house (or the time) I lived in when I first read it.
Take the comic in question at the top of this post. This was yet another
one purchased from CORSON'S (which still exists) back in the latter half of
1972, not long after we'd moved into our new house. I remember buying it
early evening, and bringing it home to discover that friends of my parents
were visiting. I sat at the dining table in the livingroom, and set about re-
creating the splash page on a piece of blank paper. That table was given
away some years later, but it still exists in the fabled land of memory
whenever I recall that golden evening of so very long ago.
That's the great thing about comics; they're a gateway into an earlier
time and place - a means by which we can relive the past for however
brief an instant, through the images on the page and even the smell
which emanates from the paper - re-creating long-vanished moments
from another era which we can experience again and again whenever
the fancy takes us.
Somehow I doubt that perusing comic strips on the internet or an ipad
is an experience that will lend itself to the same kind of nostalgic and
sentimental wallowing in which an actual published paper periodical
allows its readers to indulge. And to think that they call it "progress".
I know what I call it, and I very much doubt that I'm the only one.
However, let's suppress our sadness, and enjoy looking at these pages
from a period when the demise of printed comics was still a very long
way off. Hopefully, that fate is not as imminent as it now appears to be.