PART FOUR Of MIKE NOBLE'S FIRST FIREBALL XL5 STRIP...

Images copyright relevant owner

Oh, lookee-look-see - the crew of FIREBALL XL5 return for another thrilling four pages of magnificent MIKE NOBLE artwork, culled from the pages of the greatest comic of its kind ever to exist - TV CENTURY 21.  Nowadays, it's extremely doubtful that any weekly periodical for children would be able to afford artists of the calibre of Noble, EMBLETON, BELLAMY, etc.  Even just one of them would probably be beyond their budget, never mind all of them in the same publication. Yup, there's no doubt about it - kids of the '60s were spoiled, pure and simple.

Fifth and final part coming soon!

  

ARE YOU A SATISFIED CUSTOMER?

Copyright REBELLION

"Keep the customer satisfied" runs the old saying - and I do my best to keep all my 'customers' satisfied by trying to write posts that are worth reading.  I'm quite sure I haven't always achieved that goal, but it's honestly not for want of trying on my part. It might amaze you to learn that hosting a blog is a 'hit-or-miss' affair, as it's never easy to judge with any certainty just what might interest the readers.

Sometimes I'm surprised by the hits an average post might get, and often I'm equally disappointed to see that no one seems much interested in what I may regard as a masterpiece (for me, that is).  Take JOHNNY FUTURE for example.  One particular post might receive numerous visits, but the next instalment only receives half as many.  How do I account for it?  The fact is, I can't.  One would think that all the people who visited the previous post would keep an eye out for the next one, but it doesn't seem to work like that.

So, all I can do is do my best - and hope that, in the long run, most visitors find at least one post that makes dropping in on this blog worthwhile.  It always helps to get feedback, because that lets me know just which posts have gone down well with the readers.  You see, hits alone don't really prove anything, as a good dollop of them may result from folks dropping in by accident - and then dropping right out again.

So, if you enjoy any of my future posts, feel free to leave a comment telling me what you like about them.  And if there should be any you don't enjoy, feel free to tell me about them as well.  That'll help me to try harder in my efforts to inform, enthral and entertain you all.  (You can't accuse me of lacking ambition, now can you? "Shoot for the moon" I always say!)

In fact, why not leave a comment right now?

TIME For DOOM?

 

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

 

Here's a puzzle to ponder: Why hasn't DOCTOR DOOM ever used the time machine he created to go back into the past and fix the error in his calculations for his matter-transmutation and dimensional-warp machine?  Then it wouldn't have exploded and he could have contacted his mother in the afterlife as was his intention.  (Or perhaps he did and I missed it?)

 

Actually, there are probably loads of good reasons for him not having done so, but how about exercising your imaginations and seeing what ingenious explanation you can come up with.  Go on - have some fun and show everyone how smart you are. 

THOR OMNIBUS VOLUME 2 - ON SALE NOW!

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

All frenetic fans of The MIGHTY THOR will surely be interested in the latest OMNIBUS edition (Vol 2) of the hammer-throwing Asgardian's awesome adventures, collecting JOURNEY Into MYSTERY #121-125, THOR #126-152 & ANNUAL #2.  (I'm glad to see that the over-thick 'restored' panel border lines on a couple of TALES Of ASGARD stories which marred earlier re-presentations have now been fixed.)

The book is well-worth having just to see the large-sized pages of JACK KIRBY's & VINCE COLLETTA's art at its finest - with perfect colour registration, a plethora of back-of-the-book bonuses - and the letters pages from each issue thrown in for good measure.

Rush out and buy one today!

ISBN: 978-0-7851-6783-9

"MAKE MINE A DOUBLE!" - PART EIGHTEEN Of FAVOURITE COMICS Of The PAST...

Copyright DC COMICS

Continuing our look back at some of my favourite comics of the past, we now turn our attention to SUPERMAN #198, which I first spied in my local Barber's in 1967 or '68 when my father took me for a haircut one day.  (This was before he acquired the 'amazing' RONCO home haircutting device a few years later.  This was a small plastic item with a razor blade at each toothed end, which, magically, could make hair fly from your head in all directions at once, merely by being waved anywhere within a two inch vicinity of it.  At least, that's how it seemed to operate - it was lethal!)

As I awaited my turn in the chair (if only it had been electric, some of you are doubtless thinking), I read the comic so thoughtfully provided by the barber for the entertainment of his younger customers.  Needless to say, I was entertained.  So much so, in fact, that, seeing I didn't want to relinquish it from my grasp, he let me take the comic away with me, nice man that he was (and hopefully still is).  The premises remained a 'hairdressing salon' right up to a few short years ago, when someone else acquired the lease and turned the place into a Delicatessen.

The first story in the mag was drawn by AL PLASTINO doing a pretty fair imitation of CURT SWAN, and the second tale is by the great man himself.  Both strips later turned up in the monthly SUPER DC, a British anthology reprint mag that lasted for 14 issues.  However, whenever I look at my replacement copy of Superman #198 today, I'm back in that barbershop getting a short back and sides, and thrilling to the amazing adventures of the mighty Man of Steel.  If only such establishments were like that today, I'd doubtless get my (luckily luxuriant) hair cut more often.  (Sawdust on the floor or not.)

OVER THE HILL (AND FAR AWAY)...

One of the odd things I've noticed about myself as I get older is that my sense of distance is greater, and that places seem farther away from me than they once used to.  I don't mean visually, but geographically.  For example, the environs of my old neighbourhood once seemed, in my subconscious mind, to be so close that if I looked out of my window, there they would be for me to gaze upon as though I actually still lived there.

This feeling was no doubt made more acute by the fact that, when I first moved from my previous abode, I returned every weekday to attend the school across from my former home.  After school, once I'd had my tea, I would visit pals in the area and, truth to tell, I was along there so often that it probably never quite registered that I no longer lived there and was merely a visitor.

The distance between the two neighbourhoods seemed practically non-existent back then, and, to me, was no greater walk than the local shops at the end of my street.  It was the same with most locales I was familiar with - they seemed no farther away than the time it took me to think of them.  My house was like the TARDIS - outside its doors was any location I wanted to visit.  All I had to do was walk through them and I'd be there.

Nowadays my perceptions are strangely different.  My old neighbourhood seems as distant as MORDOR, and a lifetime away to reach.  What was once a brief walk now stretches before me like an arduous trek from which I may not return.  Whereas I never before felt far removed from any familiar childhood place, I now feel remote and isolated from them, and they seem to be as difficult to reach as the fabled BRIGADOON. 

I suppose that's as good a definition of 'over the hill' as it's possible to get.  Funny how I never before realised how literal a description of advancing years it actually is.  When you're over the hill, once-familiar 'places' on the other side are far more difficult to access - and it's an uphill struggle to even attempt the task.

******

"Ah, sweet boyhood, how eager are we as boys to be quit of thee, with what regret do we look back on thee before our man's race is half-way run!"  J. Meade Falkner.

A QUESTION TO 'EXHAUST' YOU... TO RESTORE OR NOT TO RESTORE?

As you can see, the bold young bruin YOGI BEAR makes a comeback to this blog in yet more photos of my recent acquisition.  However, this time there's actually a reason apart from ownerly pride, and it's this.  First of all, I've tidied up the paint job on him and affixed an exhaust to the side of his scooter, held on by double-sided tape as I don't want to make the addition a 'permanent' feature at this time.

Some collectors will be horrified by my repainting some details of the toy, as it's generally acknowledged that this can affect the value of the piece.  That aspect doesn't concern me however, as I don't buy things for the investment potential, but just because I want them.  Also, unless an item is very nearly perfection personified to begin with, I like to add my 'stamp' to the thing when I'm repairing, restoring, or enhancing it.  In that way, it's my toy, not just a generic example.

As for the exhaust, later versions of the MARX scooter toy had exhausts which (going by the SPIDER-MAN and GOOFY photos at the foot of this post) look as if they plug into holes in the side.  I assume that Yogi was an early version, issued without one, but if anyone knows for sure, please let me know.  As I said, I've temporarily added one I made myself with double-sided tape, even if it's not an exact match.  Looks good though.

As you can see from the unretouched seller's photo of Yogi (below) before I did some work on him, the paint job was fairly crude.  (In earlier outings I 'tidied up' the photo digitally.)  Compare it to the picture at the top of the post to see the difference.  My own opinion is that if someone has the necessary skill to improve the finish on a poorly painted toy, then go for it.

So, what's your verdict?  Improvement or sacrilege?  If you have an opinion - or any information about Marx scooter toys in general - feel free to visit the comments section.

CLARK GOES SOLO - FAVOURITE COMICS Of The PAST - PART SEVENTEEN...

All images copyright DC COMICS

Ah, what do I write about today, that I haven't already waxed both lyrically and eloquently upon in previous posts, in an excruciating, unnecessary and agonising amount of trivial detail?  Aye, there's the rub!

The puzzling paradoxes of time?  Done that.  The myriad mysteries of life, the universe and everything?  Been there.  The pleasant pursuit of happiness in the modern world?  Saving that for a rainy day. 

So what does that leave me?  H'mm, well, I could always write something about a comic or toy I suppose.

Let's talk about SUPERMAN #201.  I remember the day I first got this comic on a Saturday afternoon back in the '60s while on a trip 'round Glasgow's famous BARROWLAND market.  If I recall correctly, this was the same day I again saw the CECIL COLEMAN SUPERCAR toy, which I had first clapped eyes upon a year or two before in, of all places, the SAFEWAY supermarket in my local town centre.

On both occasions I was disappointed, as my parents wouldn't buy it for me, but later I was allowed to choose a comic from a stall selling U.S. comicbooks.  (Of course, there's always a chance I'm combining two separate Saturdays in my mind, but it's my story and I'll 'lie' if I want to.)  The comic I picked was Superman #201, and I recall walking around 'the Barras' with my nose buried in its pages.  I remember both stories in the issue, but in particular the back-up tale, which was drawn by either GEORGE PAPP or AL PLASTINO).

In fact, it's fair to say that I recollect the main story just as well, but I don't associate it with the crowded aisles of the Barras quite as much, for some strange reason.  (Perhaps I saved that tale for outside.)  The cover just screams 'Glasgow' to me whenever I look at it.

So there you are then.  Another favourite comic of the past, which I treasure for itself as much as for the memories it conjures up in the mazes of my mind.  Do you have any nostalgic associations with this particular issue which you'd care to share with fellow readers?  Then feel free to leave a comment.

    

GROUND CONTROL TO SANTA CLAUS...

I know it was an evening in December, but I'm unable to pinpoint the precise year.  Could've been 1966, certainly no later than '68,  just before Christmas.  I was out shopping with my parents and, whilst in Woolworth's, I saw a toy which I immediately had to have.  Luckily it was inexpensive and, well - it was nearly Christmas, so my parents purchased it for me.  It was a friction-drive toy (Marx* perhaps?) of Santa Claus in a rocket sleigh, with a reindeer head protruding from the front of it.  Behind Santa was the top half of his sack full of toys.  (*LP Toys was the manufacturer.)

I'd like to have this toy again, so if anybody recognises its description and knows where I might acquire one, I'd appreciate them letting me know in the comments section.  Sorry, I don't have a photo to show what it look like.

(Update: Well, I didn't when I first published this post, but I do now.  The toy was called Space Blimp Of Christmas, and I managed to obtain one in an earlier version of the box [above] than the one [below] I recall the toy having when I got my first one.)

(Another update: I now have the one shown below as well.)

MIKE NOBLE'S FIRST FIREBALL XL5 STRIP - PART THREE...

Images copyright relevant owner

Right, let's crack on with the latest episodes of FIREBALL XL5 from TV CENTURY 21, and marvel at mighty MIKE NOBLE's dynamically dramatic drawings of Colonel STEVE ZODIAC and his cosmic coterie of comrades, as they fly around the universe protecting planets and guarding galaxies from attacking aliens and marauding menaces.

And if you think it's easy writing long-winded waffle like the above, then you couldn't be more wrong.  Why, sometimes it takes me seconds to come up with these captions which so delight and enthral you.  I trust you all appreciate the time and trouble I go to on your behalf.

  

IN RECEIPT OF A MEMORY...

I was cleaning out an exterior cupboard in our back porch the other day and, in a dufflebag hanging on a nail, I found this receipt from 1982, revealing the fate of various familiar household items - most of which I had grown up with.

The tea set and the cruets could well have belonged to my grandparents, recently inherited by us upon their deaths, because I'm not quite sure which ones they were.  The mirror, sewing machine, table and log box, however, had all accompanied me in my journey through childhood and my teenage years, right up into adulthood, and are still sorely missed by me.  I have photos of them somewhere and shall dig them out at some point and add them to this post. (The table and log box, though, have popped up in previous posts on this blog.)

However, it's strange to be able to put an exact date to their departure after all these years.  And the £40 my parents were paid for the items is nothing short of robbery, even for 1982.  I sometimes wonder where they are now.  Did someone eventually buy them from the robber - oops, I mean dealer - in a single acquisition, or were they subsequently bought separately and now residing in different homes all across the country?  I don't suppose I'll ever find out, but, if I could, I'd buy them all back again.

The survival of the receipt is surprising.  The fact that it must have come with us when we moved away in 1983, then back to this house when we returned in 1987, boggles my imagination.  Lying in a Duffel Bag for 30-odd years, waiting to fulfill its destiny of revealing to me the exact date when fondly cherished items from yesteryear were untimely ripped (at poor recompense) from my company.

That means, of course, that they've been absent from my life far longer than they were ever a part of it.  Only in the physical sense though, because, truth to tell, they're never far from my thoughts and sometimes, for brief periods, I forget that they no longer inhabit my home, and aren't more than just an arm's reach or a room away.

******

"Sweet is the memory of distant friends!  Like the mellow rays

of the departing sun, it falls tenderly, yet sadly, on the heart."

Washington Irving.

******

I should add, in the interests of historical accuracy, that the log box may not have been the large one I'm thinking of, but rather a smaller one we 'inherited' from my grandparents when they moved into an old folks' home at the end of the 1970s.  The larger one may have been dispensed with at the beginning of '81 when I was staying down in Southsea for a few months.  Age, alas, prevents me from recalling exactly which one it was with my customary precision.  However, the smaller box was also a feature of my childhood, as it was from this that my brother and myself were each given two bars of chocolate on our weekly Sunday visits to my grandparents.

CHANGE Is The NAME Of The GAME...

As you can see, I've shortened the title of my blog by removing my name from it.  The main reason, to be quite honest, is that my nickname seems to attract the wrong kind of attention from the wrong kind of people, going by some of the dubious search keywords in the traffic sources section.  I'm sure you're all smart enough to figure out what I'm alluding to without me having to spell things out for you, but obviously I don't want such people visiting my blog - even if it is only by mistake.  What a world we live in.

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND SINS...

 

 

I was up in the attic earlier today and, in a corner under a sheet, was this portrait of me painted many moons ago.  Trouble is, when it was first done it looked like the photograph of me in my blog's sidebar.  That's it - I'm going on a strict diet of self-discipline.  From now on, I'm restricting myself to a mere 100 sins a day.  That should slow down the decay a tad. 

 

Still - handsome buggah, eh?

FRANKIE GOES DOWN The DRAIN...

 

Copyright REBELLION

 

A while back, over on this post, I published an episode of FRANKIE STEIN, as drawn by the great KEN REID and featured in WHAM! back in the '60s. For those of you who may have been wondering what happened next, here are the subsequent two instalments of this particular storyline.  Further episodes coming soon.

The KID HAS BEEN HIJACKED!

 

 

I've just made an interesting discovery - my blog has been hijacked.  LUPUS FOG BLOG seems to consist mostly of posts from this very site, occasionally interspersed with posts from some other source.

 

I'm puzzled.  Is it meant as a tribute in some way, or has some lazy person just decided to take the easy route because he has nothing to write about himself?  They say that "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery", but is this imitation - or simply a rip-off?   

KIRBY KLASSIC ON SALE NOW!

Images copyright DC COMICS

I discovered recently that a book I've been waiting ages for - In The DAYS Of The MOB - had finally been released and was now on sale.  I rushed out yesterday afternoon and bought myself a copy.  Although I have the original magazine, this deluxe hardback edition also contains the comic strip contents for the never published issue #2.  Well, now you can have both issues in the same valiant volume.  Don't waste your money on food, clothes, or any of the other unnecessary luxuries with which you can do without - run right 'round to your nearest comicbook store as soon as you can and holler "Make Mine Kirby!"

IF A BRUIN IS AT YOUR BACK, DOES THAT MEAN YOU'VE GOT A BEAR BEHIND?

Yes, yes - I'm quite sure you're fed up with seeing little YOGI on his scooter all over this blog, but he arrived home from his 'extended holiday' in Australia today and is settling in nicely.  Not cheap, but well worth the dosh to be reunited with an item from my earliest childhood and the memories associated with it.

A few years back, I read a newspaper article about a fella who ran a 'Teddy Bear Hospital' (or some such thing).  People would bring in (or send him) their old teddies when they were a bit the worse for wear and he would repair them, restoring them to pristine newness.  Why did he run such a venture, he was asked.  Turned out that, when he was a boy, his mother took his teddy bear away from him on the grounds that he was 'too old' for it.  That was the start.

He missed his ted so much that, over the years, he developed a kind of obsession with teddy bears and started collecting them to fill the void left by the forced removal of his little chum from boyhood.  One thing led to another and, eventually, he decided to combine business with pleasure, so that he could devote himself to the things he loved most in all the world.  (After his wife, of course.  Yes, I'm pretty sure he had a wife.  That's Trekkies you're thinking of.)

Similarly, the memory of this toy has haunted me for nigh-on 45 years.  Never seen one at toy fairs, swap-meets, memorabilia shows, or anywhere such collectables are usually found.  What's more, nobody to whom I mentioned it had any knowledge or recollection of it.  Then I do a post on my blog and, hey presto - about a month or so later someone responds, telling me they've got one.

Anyway, the photos shown on my previous posts on the subject were supplied by the seller - these ones were taken by myself only about half an hour ago, so I thought I'd share them with you here.  Don't lie - you're jealous, aren't you?  Oh, yes you are!