THE 'MESSY' WORLD OF MARVEL (UPDATED)...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

I was looking through some '70s back issues of The Mighty World Of Marvel earlier tonight and was appalled by the amateurish manner in which many of them were presented.  No wonder the title (along with several other Marvel UK weeklies) was hemorrhaging readers in its middle years.  MWOM had started as a mixture of spot colour, full colour, and tones, then withered into a muddy, murky, black and grey mess that ruined the artwork and was sore on the eyes.

As an example, look at the page below.  The top two panels have been trimmed (shortened) to make the page better accommodate the slightly different dimensions of the UK Marvel titles, but the bottom border lines haven't been restored - leaving the panels looking as if they just disappear into the 'gutter'.  That's taking laziness just a bit too far, wouldn't you say?  And it's not an isolated incident; there are several examples of such clumsiness in this one issue alone.

Then there's a Daredevil splash page (below) which has been clumsily 'drawn-up', but is missing parts of the credit box and other bits of detail, giving it an unfinished appearance.  Doesn't it look awful?  Marvel UK did eventually get its act together and improve a bit, but these pages fare badly when compared against the professional quality of comics by IPC and DCT, with which they shared space on the newsagents' shelves at the same time.  Marvel later stopped trimming the artwork and learned to master more subtle shades of tone before doing away with it altogether, but until then, too many issues suffered from inferior production values.

I have very fond memories of those early Marvel UK mags, but when I look back at the makeshift appearance of many of them, I wonder why I wasn't put off by just how shoddily-produced they were.  This is Marvel we're talking about - surely they were capable of doing far better than this and giving the readers a higher standard for their money?  Remember, they weren't any less expensive than rival periodicals by other publishers, which contained mostly new material, whereas the Marvel weeklies were mainly reprint.  (Perhaps Marvel 'weaklies' would've been a more apt description.)

I have to be completely honest and say that I'm surprised that Marvel got away with producing such inferior-looking comics and wonder how they managed to survive for so long.  I suppose it's a testament to the artwork of Kirby, Ditko, Heck, Trimpe, Buscema, Colan, etc., that even when it was butchered in such an appalling manner it wouldn't just lie down and die, and that its inherent quality still managed to shine through - barely perhaps, but just enough to show what it was made of.  And no doubt the skillful scripting of Lee, Lieber, Thomas, etc., helped 'carry' the poor visual reproduction at its worst.

Even the cover blurbs were sometimes inaccurate.  For example, in #81 there are no 'inside news scoops on Marvel', only some info about a competition (hardly a scoop), and Spidey's swap shop is nowhere in evidence.  (And wouldn't that belong in SMCW anyway?)  I still have a soft spot for these comics, but my appreciation of them is hardly a 'warts and all' acceptance of them.  Sometimes I have to half-close my eyes and squint a bit in order to blur their faults and look past their inadequacies.  They didn't always do the art and stories justice, far too often depending on the readers' mercy, but they were of their time - and as that time coincided with my youth, I therefore can't help but think fondly of them - despite their imperfections.

 

 

Any thoughts on the matter, Crivvies?  Then you know the procedure.  Incidentally, above is the poster from 1972, given free to readers who sent in 8 tokens cut, one a week, from the centre pages of the first 8 issues of MWOM.  (There were two spare coupons in the next couple of issues for reader who might have missed any.)  This isn't a scan or photo of the full-size poster (which I've got), but a smaller preview of it from an ish of the comic.  I've included it as a bonus because it balances up the page.

 

And as you can see from this letter by R. Leyland in MWOM #129, I'm not the only one who'd noticed the falling standards in quality.  The editorial staff quote rising costs, etc., claiming that the comic is even better value for money than previously, but there's no denying the facts of young master Leyland's missive: the glossy-covered, black and white, grey-toned, 36 page 8p comic was a far cry from the 40 page, mix of full and spot colour, 5p comic of only 2 and a half years before.  Even if we accept Marvel's claim of better value, that's only from a monetary perspective; from a quality one, there's no denying it was far less than it had been.

  

 

 

Incidentally, today's date 48 years ago was a Saturday, which is when the very first issue of MWOM hit newsagents' counters all across the country, so to celebrate its anniversary, below is the cover to #1, along with a few interior pages and the 'green-skinned monster T-shirt transfer'.

 

NEVER MISS A BLOG POST ON CRIVENS! THAT'S BURKE'S LAW...

Copyright relevant owner

 

I'm unable to state with absolute certainty whether I was aware of Burke's Law as a TV show before or after I saw the comic strip in TV Century 21, but I believe it was the former.  Captain Amos Burke was first played by singer/actor Dick Powell in the first episode of The Dick Powell Show in 1961, but it was Gene Barry who made the part his own in two series from 1963-'65.  There was a third series in 1966, renamed Amos Burke Secret Agent, to cash in on the James Bond and Man From U.N.C.L.E. spy craze at the time, but it wasn't a hit and was cancelled after only 17 episodes.  I couldn't say whether it was ever broadcast on UK TV, but I don't remember it at all.

Because the original was a show that I associated with my childhood in the '60s, I was pleased when it was revived in 1994 (with Burke promoted to deputy chief), again starring Gene Barry.  I watched it avidly, because it was almost like having my childhood back again.  Anne Francis, who played Honey West in a '60s episode of Burke's Law before getting her own series, even popped up again in a cameo appearance, though this time referred to as Honey Best for copyright reasons.  (Perhaps viewers were meant to assume she'd married someone with the surname of Best, but they knew who she was supposed to be.)

Anyway, there were two seasons of the new series before Amos Burke was again relegated to 'TV Heaven', but for a while at least, it was good to catch up with an old friend from my youth.  Do you have any memories of the show, either in its '60s or '90s incarnation?  Indulge in some nostalgic reminiscing in our comments section.  And while you're casting your mind back, enjoy the debut episode of the comic strip from the first issue of TV Century 21.

Don't all rush at once now.

ANYONE KNOW WHAT THIS IS?

Funny the things you remember so long after the event.  It was November 1965 on the first day of moving into our new home.  Beside the tiled fireplace that was common to such terraced houses at the time, I found... well, what did I find?  I don't know what it's called, nor am I aware of it's purpose, so it's probably better that I show you something approximating it - which I have in the above photo.  If I recall correctly, it was the same colour, and it captured my interest for some reason.

Can't say exactly how long I had it or what its eventual fate was, but it's lived in my memory ever since, which is why, when I found something resembling it (I think the original had a more oval shaped head, with the underside slightly like a spoon or ladle) a number of years back, I kept it as a reminder of that day nearly 55 years ago.  It's around 2 inches long, pretty much the same as the one I found back then.

"So why tell us?" you may be wondering.  Simple.  Any of you Crivvies know just what the hell it is and what it's for?  Someone please enlighten me before I fall off the twig.

BABE OF THE DAY - VALERIE PEREZ...

 

 

 

"Live long and prosper" says the vibrant Valerie

Perez.  "Come on round to my house and let's party," I

reply - "and keep the Star Trek outfit on."  (To start with).

Well, there's no harm in trying, is there?  With a bit of luck,

she'll give me a Vulcan mind-meld and maybe pinch

 one of my throbbing nerves.  A man can dream.

"THE EYES OF THE MUMMY!" A TRIBUTE TO JOLTIN' JOE SINNOTT...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

 

As we all know, Marvel stalwart Joe Sinnott, probably best known for inking Jack Kirby's pencils on Fantastic Four for a number of years (and inking many other artists' work too), died back in June of this year.  Although I noted his passing on the blog, I thought I'd present one of his solo efforts, from Amazing Stories Of Suspense #146, published by Alan Class & Co. Ltd., a UK company that reprinted (in black and white) US stories from a variety of different magazines.  (The strip originally appeared in Tales To Astonish #42 in 1963.)

Just wanted you to know, if you didn't already, that Joe was a talented artist in his own right.

LOVE(LY COMICS & BOOKS) FOR SALE...

I think I'd be fairly safe in assuming that most comics collectors are like me when it comes to acquiring sought-after items, in that they'll purchase what's available and affordable even if the condition is less than perfect, then upgrade to a superior example should the opportunity ever present itself.  That's because there's no guarantee a better copy will come along at a respectable price (one that you'd be prepared to pay anyway), so you buy it when and where you can.

And so it is that I find myself with various spare copies of a diverse selection of comics and books I've obtained over the years, some of them only in recent months.  I usually don't mind having spares, but I'm running out of space which I'm eventually going to need to store new items.  I'll probably put them on eBay, though I know I won't get what I paid for them - mainly because some of them weren't worth what I paid for them to begin with.

Anyway, I thought I'd show them here, and if any of you want to make a decent offer for any of them, let me know.  I don't know what the Blogger rules are when it comes to advertising items for sale, but hopefully they won't mind.  Incidentally, the 1975 Garth book cost me £24.99 only a month or two back, and while I don't expect to make a profit on anything, I wouldn't like to take too much of a loss.  Any questions about condition, just ask.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY...

Were it a criminal offence to have an erection and you got charged, do you think it would stand up in court?  And if so, would you get a stiff sentence?  (Oo-er, missus!  Frankie Howerd is alive and well on Crivens.)

TALES OF SUSPENSE #39 - MARVEL FACSIMILE EDITION...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

Hooray!  Arrived today, my Facsimile Edition of Tales Of Suspense #39 - the debut and origin of The Invincible Iron Man!  I love these comics, but a few things niggle me.  First of all, the bar code box is unnecessarily big, obscuring too much of that iconic cover.  It's been smaller on some previous facsimiles and could (and should) have been smaller on this one.

Inside, the indicia has been printed under the splash page instead of below the ad on the inside front cover.  The splash now contains a warning that 'This comic is presented as originally created.  It may contain outdated depictions.'  This would've been better placed as part of the indicia, instead of being imposed onto the published artwork and compromising the archival integrity of the material.

Another thing I've noticed in most of these facsimiles is that the image is often positioned too high on the page, leaving a bigger margin under the art than above.  I suspect this is caused by most reprint pages being first prepared for book collections, which usually have a new page number under each image.  When this is removed for single issue reprints (on account of it not appearing in the original comic), it leaves the lower margin too high.  (Though, strangely, the other two tales in the mag are better positioned in this regard.)  You'd think they'd compensate for this and lower the image for a better balance of top and bottom margins.

Those small niggles aside, it's great to see this iconic issue being re-presented as an individual magazine for a new audience, though there's bound to be a posse of older readers coming along for the ride.  Below is my original copy alongside its facsimile.  Make Mine Marvel!

BLOGGER FECKS THINGS UP...

 

Due to changes recently introduced by Blogger as to how posts are composed, I no longer have the easy flexibility to arrange or move opening images precisely into the position I want in order to keep them consistent with the layout of previous posts.  If I was prepared to faff about for half an hour, after much trial and effort, I might be able to get them exactly where I want them, but life's too short so I can no longer guarantee continuity in spacing between one post and another.  Everything about the new Blogger now makes everything about five times longer and more difficult to do than previously.  Why the hell do they do it?  Surely their motto should be "If it ain't broke, don't fix it"?  Well, they've now broken it!

RUPERT WOULDN'T FEEL VERY CHARITABLE ABOUT THIS...

Copyright relevant owner

I see the Oxfam charity shop in Clarkston is at it again.  They have a facsimile of the 1952 Rupert Annual, without its slipcase, in a cabinet with a £24.99 price tag on it.  Just looked at it on eBay and there are several going for as much as a tenner less - with slipcase.  (Even allowing for p&p, it still works out a few good pounds cheaper.)  Out of the half dozen available on eBay, only one is marked up at £25, yet charity shops claim that they usually price items between the lowest and the highest on eBay - which, let's face it, given the chancers there, is hardly the most 'scientific' way of evaluating the value of anything.

Yeah, I hear you, it's for charity - but charity begins at home.

MELANCHOLY MUSINGS...

Childhood.  An age of innocence where time seems to hold no sway, and awareness of the future only extends as far as looking forward to school holidays, birthday and Christmas presents, and the latest issue of your favourite comic going on sale.  That apart, there only seems to exist one big 'now', and whatever state you find yourself in feels like it will never end.  The house you're living in will be your home forever, you'll always be a schoolboy (or girl), and your parents and siblings will be around for as long as you are - which feels like it will be for eternity.  Childhood - the best days of our lives we're told, and unless you lived in a third world country beset by war and poverty or were the victim of abuse or cruelty, they are.

It's all downhill from there I'm sad to say.  Age, illness, deaths of loved ones, financial and family worries, uncertainty about a future you never even realised lay ahead of you, so accustomed were you to the eternal present you once thought you had.  Sure, there are good moments too as the years pass and your youth recedes, but they're always bittersweet once you reach that age where you're painfully aware there are more years behind you than lie ahead.  Do policemen, teachers, shop assistants, workmen, etc., all look younger than you recall them being in your day?  They're not, it's just that you're getting older and at the stage where you're beginning to 'fret to find your bedtime near'.  The final bedtime that is.

So now that I've cheered everyone up with my positive and optimistic assessment, let me ask you all a question.  Are you fulfilled in your life; do you have a goodly store of pleasant memories while yet adding to them each and every day, or do you feel that you never achieved your potential and still have so much more you want to do, while being all too well aware that you really don't have enough time ahead of you in which to do it?  Linger a moment  in the darker recesses of your mind, consider your life up to now, and then share your regrets (if any) and sadness of how quickly life seems to pass without us being aware of it until we near journey's end.

(There's no doubt about it - I'll need to stop taking those happiness pills.)

GARTH & ROMEO - TOGETHER (UPDATED)...

Copyright relevant owner

 

Here's a nice little eBay acquisition which I 'won' today - a 1960s 'Two-In-One' book of Garth and Romeo Brown.  Garth is on one side, Romeo on the reverse, so once you've finished one strip, you turn the book over to read the other.  This will complement my Garth books for 1975 and '76, all three bearing the Daily Mirror name on them.

 

Interestingly, each side of the cover refers to the other as the 'back', although when the price on the spine is the right way up, Romeo Brown is actually the 'front'.  Was Romeo being accorded a subtle degree of favouritism?  Having said that, Garth's name on the spine is above the price, thereby coming first, so perhaps that evens things out - or maybe the publishers didn't think it mattered?

 

Anyway, just thought you might like to see the book.  Anyone a Garth fan?

 

CHILDHOOD'S END...

My 14th birthday was the first birthday I ever spent in my present home, and earlier birthdays in my previous house still seemed so recent that I didn't yet miss the years they represented.  It's only when the recent past has 'matured' (like an old wine) and is no longer so close that we begin to pine for it, and such was the case with me.  (It's not only absence that makes the heart grow fonder, but distance too.)  The last couple of years in my former domicile were not the same as the years that preceded them.  I'd already progressed beyond the stage of viewing the surrounding environs of my neighbourhood as my playground, and was venturing further afield in search of adventure. My taste for toys (in the main) was diminishing, and the occasional item aside, comics had become my primary interest instead of being just one of them.

The 'fabric' of my life had changed and was continuing to do so, but it was doing so while escaping my attention, so when my family flitted to my current residence in June 1972, my life continued for the first couple of years or so in much the same way as the last couple of years in my prior abode.  And it was this sense of continuity in the pattern of my life over the transitional period between one house and the other that dulled my awareness of an incontrovertible fact - namely, that my childhood had already ended in my former home and I had progressed from one stage of my life to another without being fully aware of the 'metamorphosis'.

It was only with the passage of time and many years after the fact that I realised my actual childhood 'belonged' to a previous house (and other houses before it), and that I'd left that blissful state unawares, as cognizance of the process of one's early life unfolding in stages doesn't consciously register until some way down the track.  As I've said before in other posts, life as it happens segues from one 'scene' to another in a subtle cross-fade, but when we look back years later, it seems to jump-cut between them.  That's because we recognise, categorise, and compartmentalise retroactively, not during the actual process of everyday life itself.

I think that's why I sometimes make little 'pilgrimages' back to old houses and neighbourhoods, to pay my respects to my demised childhood, even though, as I said, I wasn't aware it had passed away at the time.  And hey, perhaps it hadn't, and I'm assigning an arbitrary time of expiry as it subjectively seems to me today, not as it appeared back then.  Whatever the case, it makes me wonder how others regard this subject, which in turn leads me to ask the following question to those who feel inclined to answer:

Were you aware of when you ceased to be a child and moved on to the next level of your biological, emotional, and psychological evolution, or - like myself - was it not until many years later while trying to assemble the jigsaw of your life to view the full picture (up 'til now), that you realised you had transformed from a caterpillar to a butterfly without being aware of the fact?  Thoughts, theories, and observations will be made very welcome in the comments section.

BABE OF THE DAY - VALERIE PEREZ...

The alluring Valerie Perez holds up a bag of

swag to try and entice me into taking her out on a

date.  She doesn't have to bribe me (though I'd be

 worth every penny), pleading would suffice.

AGAIN - THE PHANTOM VIKING...

Copyright relevant owner

Several posts back, I showed you a Phantom Viking strip from the Champion Annual for 1968.  If you remember, I said I may show the second PV strip from the Annual, which is a mix of full and spot colour.  Well, I'm nothing if not a man of my word, so here's that very strip, scanned at the risk of damaging the book so I hope you all appreciate it.

Are you old enough to remember ol' Vikie, and did you think he was just a rip-off of Thor?  Then feel entirely entitled to express your opinion in our free-to-enter comments section!  I repeat - free-to-enter - so where is everybody?  (Hey, I'll even settle for anybody.)

AN INSPECTOR CALLS... ARE YOU GOING TO BE IN? (UPDATED)...

Copyright relevant owner

I suppose it was during my last year at secondary school that the following event I'm about to relate occurred.  Well, the location is definite, but the year is an educated guess, arrived at from the fact that the timing would've been just right.  Several classes of potential soon-to-be school leavers (if my conjecture as to the year is correct) were taken to the science block's screening room to see a movie one day, the cinematic treat presented for our appreciation being An Inspector Calls starring Alastair Sim, and based on the play by J.B. Priestley.

Directed by James Bond stalwart Guy Hamilton, it's a tightly-woven morality tale of how one's every action has unforeseen repercussions that impacts on not just the individual accountable for them, but others as well.  No doubt its screening was intended to inculcate a sense of responsibility in our young minds to prepare us for our impending entry into the working world and justify our position among the ranks of 'adulthood'.  (Of course, it may be that it was routinely shown to all 15-16 year olds each year, regardless of whether they were due to leave school or not, as perhaps that was the age-group considered to be more receptive to the film's 'message'.)  

It's a powerful story, and is so masterfully constructed that you 'can't see the joins' as it unfolds before you.  By that I mean each event appears to be a random happening, totally unconnected to the one that precedes it and the one that follows, though slowly but surely we learn that they're all tied together and that, in life, everything we do has consequences, like the ripples caused by a pebble thrown into a pond.  The acting, lighting, direction, etc., are superb, and the music cues, especially those accompanying dramatic revelations, is extremely effective.

So if you've never seen the film, hunt it down now as it's a true classic (and available on dvd). The twist in the tale of the original play has been 'accentuated' to greater effect in the movie, and I can promise you that you'll be thoroughly entertained, as well as having your imagination stimulated and maybe even your mindset and behaviour affected in a way that's beneficial to not only yourself, but also those with whom you interact.

Hey, that's a movie well-worth seeing, don't you think?!  If you're already familiar with the film, feel free to agree with my assessment of it - or not, as the case may be. The comments section awaits your esteemed presence.

*****

Below, the actual screening room, in 2007 or '08, recorded for posterity (by me) 33-plus years after first seeing the movie.  It was projected from a booth at the back, though I no longer recall with any certainty whether it was straight onto the wall or a 'roller-screen' (the latter I think), but this was where an Inspector called back in 1974.  (See what I did there?)  Within a few months (at most) of this photo being taken, the entire school was demolished to make way for houses and flats, a new school building having already been built (and in use) on adjoining land.   

JAMES BOND - RANDY RASCAL OR RAMPANT RAPIST - YOU DECIDE...

What the hell is the world coming to?  On another blog, someone dogmatically asserts that MI6 secret agent James Bond 'effectively' raped Pussy Galore in the scene set in the barn on Auric Goldfinger's stud farm.  I've since learned there are other sites where such an utterly ridiculous accusation is repeated as though it's fact, when the real facts are that there's nothing at all in the scene to suggest Bond is raping her.  Just where does such lunacy come from?  (Stick around, I'll tell you shortly.)

Here are the real, incontrovertible facts of the case.

In the movie, Pussy Galore's lesbianism (as mentioned in the novel) is seriously downplayed - to the point that it's not exactly clear whether she is or she isn't. (Though it looks as if she might help out if they were short-handed.)

While Pussy is showing 007 around Goldfinger's farm, they go into a barn and engage in what appears to be a playful, flirtatious, fighting tussle; it certainly doesn't look like either one is seriously trying to hurt the other.  Bond tries to kiss Pussy, who initially appears resistant to the idea (after all, Bond is her hostage and trying to thwart her boss's plans), but then, going from her expression, changes her mind and willingly returns his kiss.  (Look at the above screen-grab - her arms are embracing him, not pushing him away.)

The scene fades out on that kiss, and it's left to the viewers' imagination as to whether they actually went any further, but Bond being Bond, it's not unreasonable to assume that they did (consensually).  Pussy then decides to switch sides, helps Bond defeat Goldfinger, and then, in the movie's final scene, gleefully (and willingly) engages in a bit of (unseen) rumpy-pumpy with our hero under the folds of a parachute.

So here's where the ludicrous assertion that Bond is a rapist breaks down.  (In fact, all that Bond can be accused of is trying to steal a kiss from her, and even then, likely only in a strategic manoeuvre to get her 'on-side'.)  If he'd raped Pussy, it's almost a certainty that she'd have killed him at the first opportunity, not switched sides and betrayed her employer.  

It's also clear, from her readiness to engage in another 'tussle' (without the half-hearted judo or karate this time) with Bond at the end of the movie, that she's completely 'up for it' - which isn't usually the response of someone who'd previously been raped by the person with whom she's now about to have consensual sex.

So how did the rape accusation come about?  Obviously, it originated from a bunch of woke feminists (male and female), who just don't like the idea that there are 'manly-man' men like Bond out there whom women can't resist.  I should know - I'm one of those men.  (Heh heh, little joke there.)  Add to that the fact that the literary Pussy was a lesbian, the idea that Bond 'converted' her ("I must've appealed to her maternal instinct" he says, when asked why Miss Galore changed sides) throws misandric feminists and lesbians into a paroxysm of fury at the very idea of such a thing.  (Yet, strangely, they're always quick to suggest that straight women can be easily 'turned' after a few sherries.)

So our hero - in essence a hired government assassin (when need be), but one who only kills bad guys in pursuit of a better world, is not only a randy cove, but also a bloody rapist!  According to a bunch of men-hating feminists with an agenda, that is.

Anyone else out there who's fed up with this nonsense?  Make your feelings known now.  In fact, make your feelings known even if you think Bond is a rapist.  I'm always prepared to give the other side of any controversial subject a fair crack of the whip, even if they are seriously deranged and talking utter bollocks.  (So completely impartial then.)

Right - who's going to be brave enough to be first?

JAMES BOND 007 NO TIME TO DIE LATEST TRAILER...

     

Here's the latest trailer for No Time To Die, which seems to be derivative of earlier Bond movies, as well as the Mission Impossible films.  Yet another example of Bond following, rather than leading.  It's all gone a bit pc when the new 007 is a black woman (and it wouldn't surprise me if she's also a lesbian), because, as we all know, there are attempts afoot to programme us all into accepting that women can do everything that men can do.  And vice versa - except for having babies and menstruating of course (but at least we can catch man-flu and they can't).

Personally, I didn't see anything wrong with the old idea that men could be good at some things and women other things, with a bit of meeting in the middle, but under the new religion of 'equality'*, diversity, and inclusivity (for the sole purpose of enabling those with an inferiority complex to feel good about themselves), traditional outlooks are being jettisoned faster than a fart from The Flash!  (*What some people fail to realise is that 'difference' doesn't necessarily mean inequality.  An apple is still a piece of fruit despite not being an orange.)

Let's just hope the movie is worth the entrance fee, because there's only one stunt in the entire trailer that stands out - and even then it's based on a scene in The Great Escape with Steve McQueen (or his stunt man).  Right up to date, eh?

MY NUMBER'S UP - OR SHOULD THAT BE DOWN...?

Sometimes I'm not sure whether it's better to leave certain things where and as they are, or salvage them so that they survive beyond their allotted time and place.  For example, 29 years ago I bought the house number plate from the then-current (and now-deceased) tenant of one of my former homes, in which I'd lived from the age of 7 to nearly 14.  Within a few short years of obtaining the number, the house had new windows and front and back doors installed, and had I not got the plate when I did, it would've been consigned to oblivion along with the old windows and doors, etc., before I'd even known about it.

Several months back, I learned that the local council have plans to upgrade the lockups in that very same neighbourhood where I'd once lived, which would entail re-roofing them and replacing the doors.  Some lockups have been bought over the years and are now in private hands, so they might remain untouched and unrestored initially, but the owners will, eventually, have to effect repairs themselves as not all doors (fitted in the early '60s), are exactly in the best of condition.  In fact, some owners have already replaced the original doors, which swung outwards, with ones that swing upwards under the roof.

Limited edition model of Nobel 200

I therefore decided to ask the guy who rents (from the current owner) what had once been my parents' house and lockup to sell me the two number plates on the doors, so that they'd survive any future upgrade.  He kindly consented for free, only requiring that I replace the numbers with new ones so that the lockup's numerical sequence could be readily identified.  And that's how I came to own the two plates at the top of this post.  Come what may, I now possess a tangible reminder from the days when my father housed his Nobel 200 car (and then a Reliant Robin) in that very same lockup, behind those very same numbered doors.

The numbers plates had been painted over at some point in the intervening years since we'd moved (in the '90s perhaps), so weren't entirely visible from even a short distance away, but I plan on stripping back the paint and restoring them to their former glory.  It's a shame I couldn't have waited until the doors themselves were being replaced, as I feel a bit guilty about parting doors and plates from one another before a definite date for their 'retirement' has been set, but I couldn't run the risk of only finding out afterwards when it was too late to nab 'em, so I acted now to prevent such a thing happening.

Photo taken in the late '80s, with plates still visible
(if you enlarge the pic to its optimum size)

Like I say though, it bothers me a little that I've separated them from the only 'home' they've known for nearly 60 years, and if doors and numbers had sentience, I can't help but fancifully wonder whether they'd miss one another?  I suppose that when the doors are eventually replaced, I'll be glad I obtained the plates when I did, as there have been too many occasions in the past when I left such 'rescue missions' too late to do anything.

Right, now that I've once again confirmed that I'm totally bonkers, is there anything that yet resides in a former neighbourhood or home of yours, that you'd like to acquire out of a sense of nostalgia or sentiment - if you could?  Tell all in the comments section.  Oh, go on - it's no fun playing on my own.

Number plate from former house