FLINTSTONES FLIBBA-DIBBA-DIB-DOB! (Or: NURSE!!!)

I suppose, looking back from the distance of decades, that I was a strange child.  Not potential serial-killer strange, but certainly not your run-of-the-mill average child that my peers appeared to be.  I suspect I've got something akin to an obsessive-compulsive personality (though not a 'disorder'), in that I develop routines that must be observed (like putting on my trousers after my underpants - except when I'm wearing my Superman costume, of course), but they're usually 'little' things of no great significance in the overall scheme of everyday life.

Consistency and continuity are important to me.  When I was 6, I recall being perturbed when one week's TV Century 21 (#20) changed the cover banner from red to yellow, and said something different than usual.  ('With Gerry Anderson's Stingray * Fireball XL5 * Supercar' became '25 Stingrays To Be Won!  See Page 9'.)  I bought another issue of #19 from the previous week (still on sale, surprisingly), cut off the banner and stuck it over the offending interloper - now I was happy.

Okay, but what's with the photo of Fred Flintstone, you may be wondering.  Well, around 1962 or '63, my mother bought me a Flintstones Flivver - a friction-drive tin toy with a plastic figure of Fred at the wheel.  It was manufactured by Marx Toys, and I must've retained the figure until at least 1973 or '74.  (The Flivver itself did not survive anywhere near as long.)  During that period, my family had lived in three more houses to the one we inhabited when I first acquired the toy, and I developed a peculiar habit while living in the middle of those three houses of visiting our very first one with Fred in tow.

See, every Sunday, we visited my maternal grandparents, and after tea, I'd take a little walk along to our first two homes (only a few minutes apart) just to gaze upon them again, and to reunite Fred with where he came from.  (H'mm, why does that seem even more bonkers in cold hard print?)  I suppose it was a 'pilgrimage' of sorts.  I carried him in my pocket, and when I reached my destination, I'd take Fred out and hold him facing the front of the first house as though he could 'see' it again.  Eventually, around my mid-teens, I disposed of Fred and any other surviving toys*, in an attempt to be more 'grown-up', but deep down I always regretted it.

(*There were two exceptions.  My Marx Thunderbolt horse and Wade porcelain Yogi Bear.)

Anyway, around a quarter of a century ago I acquired a replacement for my Flintstones Flivver and was happy to be reunited with it and its driver.  (The past come back to life as it seemed to me.)  Although I have no specific memory of doing so, I probably took a walk along to my old house with Fred to reconnect my memory of him to when we lived there.  (Dunno about you, but I'm almost inclined to call the men in white coats right now to come and take me away.)  So mission accomplished and all was right with the world (if not my mind).

Aha!  But then, a couple of years or so ago, I saw a Fred figure for sale on eBay.  At first I wasn't interested, as he was pretty beat up and I already had a better one.  However, as I looked at the seller's photos, I began to feel sorry for Fred and decided to buy him just so I could restore him to something resembling his former glory.  So that's what I did, and now I have two Freds to accompany me in however much is left of my journey through life.  I had to repair his nose, which had a bit missing, and to clean him up and restore him to a presentable condition as befits his status as a marker of my youth, and I think I did a pretty good job.

I've included some of the seller's photos (below) to give you an idea of just how poorly he was, alongside some of my own to present him as he appears now.  If you stayed to the end of this post, feel free to leave a comment telling my what a good job I did - or even just to tell me I'm as mad as a box of spiders.  (I'll let you in on a little secret - I knew that anyway.)

And just so my other Fred doesn't feel neglected, that's him below in his Flivver.  The box is a repro I made from an original one for the battery-operated version, though mine is friction-drive.

The Complete SPARKY #1 From 1965... (Updated)

Copyright D.C. THOMSON & Co., Ltd

It looks a little dated now, and it's difficult to believe it was released in the same week as TV Century 21 (even sharing the same cover-date, except for the latter being dated 2065, not 1965), but Sparky lasted for 12 years as its own comic (compared to the former's 6 year period before it was merged into Valiant in 1971) so it can be rightly considered the more successful of the two titles, at least as far as longevity goes.  (Though I doubt it sold as many weekly copies as its rival, but I couldn't say for sure.)

It's unlikely it would ever be published in today's woke age, given the fact that the 'star' of the comic was a little native black boy, even though he was treated with respect and always usually came out on top of whatever situation he was in.  Sure, he's a caricature, but anyone who's ever seen an issue of National Geographic knows that such natives existed - and probably still do.  (*See photo at foot of post.)  To my way of thinking, unless he was being portrayed in a negative light (which he never was), he's no more offensive a character than Fred Flintstone is as a cartoon representation of a white man.

Your opinion may differ, and that's fine - I'm not here to try and convince you otherwise.  No, my purpose here today is to pull back time's curtain and show you the complete contents of the very first issue of a comic that is still highly regarded in the memories of former readers who collected it avidly every week.  The early issues didn't really hint at the promise of the title it eventually developed into, but it's no less historically important for that little fact, so enjoy the very first issue of the late, lamented Sparky - and then leave a comment if you'd be so kind.

(Click on images to enlarge, then click again for optimum size.)

Oops!  I don't know how, but I inadvertently omitted the Minnie Ha-Ha page and only just noticed.  It was waiting patiently in my file so I've now added it.

*Below, plucked from the Internet, Wadaabe males - related to Sparky perhaps?  They're taking part in some tribal ceremony wherein they wear full makeup and their finest clothes in a traditional mating ritual to attract female partners.  (Full makeup, eh?  That may just be giving off the wrong signals to the wrong gender.  They look happy enough with each other.) 

The MARVEL COMICS ART Of WALLY WOOD...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

The first comic mart I ever attended was in The Royal Stuart Hotel in Glasgow in 1982.  I stumbled across it by accident while passing the hotel with a friend and curiosity got the better of me.  It was there I first spoke with the late Pete Root, who told me of his plans to open a comics shop with a group of friends - which, he claimed, would be so good it'd put eight other comic shops out of business.  (The shop was AKA Books & Comics.)  I bought Silver Surfer #1 from him for £12, and I also ran into Brian Bolland that day and got his autograph on the back of a mini calendar tab for 1983 (I like to be prepared), which I still have today.

At that mart I also saw a book called The Marvel Comics Art of Wally Wood, and though I was tempted, I didn't buy it.  I've always regretted not doing so, so I recently purchased one via eBay and it arrived at Castel Crivens from the States today.  Just think - 42 years wiped away in a single stroke and things are now as they should've been back then.  The inevitable question - how the hell did 42 years of my life pass so quickly?  And the same question would apply even if I didn't now own the book, as that day only seems such a short while ago to me, rather than the vast expanse of time (two-thirds of my life in fact) it actually is.

I didn't have the Surfer ish long as I inadvertently damaged and then dispensed with it, but three or four years later I bought a better copy I still have today, along with the other 17 issues.  If you don't have the Wood book, I thought you'd appreciate seeing some of the art contained within.  The Royal Stuart Hotel is now student accommodation (and has been for many years), but when I look at my SS #1, my autographed calendar tab, and my Wally Wood book, I'm back in 1982 and everything is as it was.  In fact, it feels like I've owned the book since then now that it's in my possession.  Anyway, enjoy the images - click to enlarge, then click again for optimum size.

(Incidentally, there are no biographical details about Wood, nor an introduction in the book, so either it was rush-released as a tribute in the wake of Wood's death [in November '81] or the publishers felt that his art spoke for itself.)