The MOST NOBLE ARTWORK Of ALL - MIKE NOBLE'S FIREBALL XL5 - PART ONE...

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MIKE NOBLE is one of the greatest artists ever to draw for British comics since they first rolled off the presses.  During the '60s, his graceful, fluid, yet action-packed artwork appeared in a variety of publications, but he's possibly best known for his FIREBALL XL5, ZERO X, and CAPTAIN SCARLET strips in TV CENTURY 21, and, in the '70s, his FOLLYFOOT, TIMESLIP, and BLACK BEAUTY strips in the Junior TV TIMES publication, LOOK-IN.  In fact, I probably do him a disservice - he's renowned for far more than that.

The accompanying Fireball XL5 strip (from TV Century 21 #34, cover-dated September 11th, 2065 - honest) is one I remember reading on my way to school, back when I was a mere snot-nosed kidlet (as opposed to a snot-nosed adult).  Around six years later, a smaller, black and white reprinting of the adventure appeared in COUNTDOWN, a comic heavily influenced by TV21, which should come as no surprise as it was helmed by former art editor DENNIS HOOPER.  Naturally I was overjoyed to see it, even in 'reduced' circumstances.

Regarding the tale's initial appearance, I recall eagerly invading the newsagent's en route to school every week, in the hope that the latest copy was available for perusal on the counter.  I even remember Mr. SMITH, the manager, patiently thumbing through an issue on one occasion, to give me a preview of the latest instalment of that snowmen adventure.  (I had no money on me and just couldn't wait to see what had happened to ROBERT The ROBOT when he was knocked off his Jetmobile by a giant, rolling snowball.)

Interestingly (for me at least), Mr. Smith later became the manager of another newsagent's in the neighbourhood my family had by then moved to, from which I purchased the issue of Countdown reprinting that exact same tale.  He subsequently gave me a job as a paperboy on a salary of £1 per week.  (Which was slave labour even back then.)

Anyway, enjoy this first instalment - and be sure to stay tuned  for the rest of this classic comics serial in future posts.

Click here for Part Two.

A SIGN Of The TIMES...

I used to be a signwriter.  I started off as quite a good signwriter and, in the fullness of time, became a very good one - an excellent one in fact.  (If I say so myself - and I do.)  That's probably why I found lettering for comics to be relatively easy - at least there was no climbing up and down ladders and scaffolding in the rain when putting speech balloons next to comic characters' heads.

Occasionally, even during my career in comics, I'd be prevailed upon to do a sign or two for someone or other.  While going through some old photos earlier, I discovered the two images which adorn this very page.  (Both sides of a sandwich board-type sign, for display outside a shop.)  They're scanned and enlarged from quite small images so might not be quite as sharp as I'd like, but I think they'll suffice to give you a fair indication of just how proficient I was.

Someone must have thought so, because it was stolen after only a couple of days or so.  What can I say?  It's nice to have one's work appreciated.  (Obviously it was nicked so that someone could paint their own signs over mine, or perhaps some drunken neds dumped it in the woods further along the street and across the road.)

Signing off for now.  (Har, har!  Pun intended.)

UNFINISHED BUSINESS...

Around fifteen years ago, one of my old schoolfriends found himself in the unfortunate position of having to vacate the family home when his father died.  To help him and his sister have less to shift when they moved, I accepted his offer to see if there was anything I might want to buy from their unwanted baggage.  I gave him £100 for a few relatively worthless odds 'n' ends (books, ornaments, etc.) so that he didn't think he was the recipient of charity, and hoped it would be of use in some small way.  (He'd already given me a couple of ornaments for free, so I wanted to help him in return.)

Amongst the items I purchased from him was the above book.  I bought it for my father who was in hospital at the time, so that he could read it when he got out.  He never did.  He died not long after without ever seeing it (unless he glimpsed the cover on what turned out to be a brief visit home) and it's languished in a cupboard since the day it came into my possession.  Having fought abroad during the Second World War these type of stories were right up his street, but I've never been even remotely interested in military matters.

However, whenever I lay eyes on the book, it brings with it a sense of 'unfinished business' - as if it's waiting to fulfill the purpose for which it was bought, but has been denied ever since.  As I said, the subject isn't really my 'cup of tea', but, more and more these days, I'm left with a strange sense that maybe I should read it on my father's behalf - and thus end its years of neglect and abandonment.  I know it sounds daft, but the feeling is beginning to haunt me. 

Unfinished business, eh?  One day soon perhaps.