YOGI & HUCK - WALKIN' BACK TO HAPPINESS...

Following on from a previous post, one of my favourite toys from childhood was a YOGI BEAR & HUCKLEBERRY HOUND WALKER by LOUIS MARX TOYS.  The fact that it's Huck and Yogi, and not Yogi and BOO BOO, suggests that it's an early piece of merchandise from when Huck's show first hit TV, in which Yogi was only a support act, albeit an extremely popular one.  Yogi soon went on to eclipse the ol' hound-dog and was awarded his own TV show, in which he had his own second-stringers, SNAGGLEPUSS and YAKKI DOODLE.

Marx Toys also produced a range of DISNEY character Walkers, plus other ones, such as POPEYE, etc., but ol' Yogi and Huck are hard to beat.  I've also got a FRED & BARNEY one, which you can see if you click here.  These toys command quite high prices in collectors' circles, and are highly sought-after by lovers of HANNA-BARBERA memorabilia.

When I acquired this a number of years back to replace the one I'd owned as a child (I've now had it for around twice as long as its predecessor), I was struck by the noise it makes as it toddles down an incline, wobbling slightly from side-to-side as it does so.  It's a soft, slow 'rattling' intonation, and I was surprised to be reminded of what had once been a familiar sound, neither heard nor thought about since I was a lad.  However, upon hearing it once again, all the old memories came flooding back in a rush, making me realize that one never truly forgets anything.  It's all still there, lying dormant just under the surface, waiting only for the proper catalyst to allow it to spring, full-blown, back into one's consciousness, bringing with it recollections of earlier times.

Any particular toy you remember from childhood?  Why not share it with us in the comments section?

TV COMIC'S LAST STAND...

Copyright relevant owner

As related in a recent post, TV COMIC ceased weekly publication in June 1984 after an unbroken run of nearly thirty-four years.  However, it made three more last-gasp appearances before it finally vanished from U.K. newsagents.  First there was an Annual for 1985 (released near the end of '84), and then a 1985 Holiday Special.  This was followed a year later by a Holiday Extra, containing a mix of strips and activity pages.

It's not unheard of for Annuals to continue for years after a weekly comic's demise, KNOCKOUT being a prime example. Knockout comic was published for only two years from 1971 to '73, but the Annual lasted from 1972 (for '73) to 1984 (for '85) - a total of thirteen books over twelve years.  (That's some going.)

Perhaps POLYSTYLE PUBLICATIONS hoped for the same thing with the TV Comic Annual (though it was probably prepared prior to the weekly being cancelled) - but, alas, 'twas not to be.  There was no Annual for the following year, or indeed, any year thereafter.

With the 1986 Special 'done and dusted', the once-popular TV Comic had finally fallen foul to an unfriendly fate in the face of a feckless following forsaking it for friendlier fields.

Such, as they say, is life.   

HUCK & YOGI'S BELATED HAPPY HOGMANAY...

Copyright relevant owner

Here's one I meant to put up at the start of the year but forgot.  Never mind, it's not too late - we're still only a week into 2012, so enjoy seeing how HUCKLEBERRY HOUND and YOGI BEAR (plus some pals) were bringing in the New Year back in 1966.  (Towards the end of 1965 obviously.)  Note that in the third-last panel on page two, it's clear that a 'Knock knock' lettering effect has been inadvertently omitted.  (Tsk, tsk!)

I don't remember ever seeing this title as a kid, but maybe that's simply because I was too busy buying TV CENTURY 21 instead.  Interestingly, both comics were the same price (7d), but with only 16 pages - four in full colour - Huck's weekly was hardly value for money by comparison.  Perhaps the publishers had to fork out an absolute fortune to feature the licensed HANNA-BARBERA characters though.

 

1966, eh?  If you're around my age, I bet it doesn't seem half as long ago as it sounds.

IT'S A VERY FUNNY BUSINESS - OR IS IT?

From the 1977 Mighty TV Comic Holiday Special.  (Reprinted from an earlier issue of the weekly in
all likelihood.  Going by the tones, the original was probably in colour.)  Copyright relevant owner

Funny is funny.  It's a quality which no one ever really outgrows.  The comic strips I found funny as a kid I still find funny today whenever I re-read them.  Is my current enjoyment of an old comic strip merely the echo of a past response, or is each subsequent humorous appreciation a fresh experience unconnected to my initial amusement from years before?

Difficult to say with absolute certainty, but perhaps it's a bit of both.  It's a fact though, that I find a lot of today's comics seriously lacking in humour.  (Which may be a contradiction in terms, but you know what I mean.)  Perhaps I've simply outgrown them, but I don't think so.  How does one outgrow the ability to appreciate humour - in any form?  Occasionally, I consider the contents of a contemporary comic to be funny.  On those rare moments, I would say that's because the material is funny.  By the same token, if I don't find it funny, then it's logical to conclude that it isn't - not that I've outgrown the format.  

However, tastes obviously differ.  What I consider amusing, you may not - and vice versa.  But that merely confirms that we must use our own tastes as the final arbiter in the matter - it's no use arguing about it.  However, going on that principle, in my opinion, in the main, kids are being shortchanged in the humour department these days.  Part of the problem is that, in some quarters, scripts are not being supplied by professional humour writers with a proven track record, but by editorial staff who are augmenting their wages with a little 'freelance' work.

Let's be honest here.  If you're a tremendously talented funny writer for comics, then that's what you'll be doing for a full-time living.  You won't be doing something else as your main source of income while picking up a little extra on the side with the odd script or three.

The debate will go on, of course, as the circulation of comics in general continues to inexorably decline.  In the meantime, enjoy the above offering of what I consider to be a prime example of a funny strip.  Not just funny, but witty and clever also.  One that can appeal to both kids and adults alike, in fact.  Perhaps that's what all comics editors should be aiming for.

******

(Having said that, it wouldn't be allowed today.  A robber seemingly getting away free and unpunished in the final panel?  Can't have that, can we?  Readers are obviously too stupid to assume that he's caught and arrested shortly after.  The PC Brigade have a lot to answer for.)

     

1977 Holiday Special

CAN I HAVE A 'P' PLEASE, BOB?

Just heard the really sad news that BOB HOLNESS, the renowned and genial host of BLOCKBUSTERS, has died at the age of 83.  Nothing to do with comics, but from a nostalgic point of view, worthy of mention on this humble blog.  I have fond memories of occasionally watching Blockbusters back in the early 1980s, and I loved the theme tune and colourful set design, to say nothing of Bob's humorous banter with those snotty-nosed, spotty students, who are probably all doctors and lawyers nowadays and earning an absolute fortune.

Bob was also a respected theatre actor in his day, and was the first radio actor to play JAMES BOND (in a dramatisation of MOONRAKER) in 1956.  (In fact, only one other actor before him had played Bond, that being BARRY NELSON in a live TV broadcast of CASINO ROYALE in 1954.)  Now Bob's gone to that great 'Gold Run' in the sky, so let's all raise a glass to the epitome of 'cool' - Mr. Bob ("I'll have a 'P' please") Holness.  He was a blockbuster. 

"WITHOUT TIME And WITHOUT END..."

I was gently brushing the dust from one of my classic collectables earlier today, when something occurred to me.  I had originally owned this particular item back in 1967 or '68, but the one I currently have is a replacement I obtained in the mid-'80s. I probably owned the original for no more than two or three years at the most, while its present-day stand-in I've now had for around 27 years.  Strange, because it still feels like a fairly recent acquisition, while the one I had as a kid seems to have been part of my childhood for far longer than it actually was.

It's the same with comics.  I remember buying the first issue of the 'new' SMASH! in March of 1969, but before the week was out I'd sold it (along with its free gift) at cover price to one of my classmates, BILLY MONTGOMERY, who'd missed out on buying his own copy earlier.  I sold it to him mid-week, intending to buy a replacement before issue #2 came out on the coming Saturday.  As it happens, I didn't manage to obtain one 'til over 15 and a half years later (October 13th, 1984, from an Edinburgh comics shop, to be exact), but I remembered practically every page as if I'd seen it only the day before.

Amazing, isn't it?  I'd only owned the original comic for three or four days at the very most, yet it had made such an enormous impression on me that when I think back, it seems that I had it for far longer.  And, just like the previous item to which I referred, those few days don't seem any less than the nearly 28 years I've owned its successor.

Which brings me closer to the point.  "Hurrah!", cry countless thousands of rabid readers. (If only.)  I was listening to a radio play a number of years back, in which someone quoted a line very close to the following one: "The memories of childhood are without time and without end."  Or it may've been "...without end and without time."  (I've tried to trace its source, but to no avail so if anybody knows its origin, feel free to let me know.)

Regardless of the exact wording, I know exactly what it means.  When I recall my childhood, it's often difficult to remember events in their proper sequence, or the exact duration of certain periods of time.  Whether I had a comic or toy for six days or six months, it all seems the same to me in retrospect.  Same goes for houses.  As a child, I once lived in a house for just over a year, but when I think back on it, my time there doesn't seem any less than the four years I spent in the house before, or the nearly seven years in the one after.  Don't get me wrong - I know there's a difference - I just don't feel there's a difference.

According to the Good Book, "One day is as a thousand years to the Lord, and a thousand years as one day."  When I think back to the days of my youth, I kind of know what that must feel like - though obviously on a much smaller scale.

"Without time and without end" - if only life itself were like that.  Wouldn't it be great?

HAVE YOU MISSED THE BUS?

Funny what thoughts go through one's mind during a casual glance out of the window, isn't it? When I first moved into these vaulted halls many years ago, I had a panoramic view of the far horizons from my bedroom window.  Over the years, I grew to enjoy observing seemingly tiny double-decker buses, interiors lit up against the darkness of the night sky, as they traversed their routes in the distance.  I'd watch, fascinated, as they suddenly entered stage left, and then parade across the bejewelled black canvas backdrop of night, before exiting, stage right, from the scene.

Sometimes, of course, they'd glide into view in reverse order to the one just described, and at other times, two buses would appear simultaneously from opposite directions and approach one another like duelling behemoths, only to pass without incident or acknowledgement in the middle. On occasions such as these I was spoilt for choice, my eyes dancing from one to the other, captivated by these glowing little boxes on wheels as they narrowed the distance between them.  I can't explain it, but there's just something magical about watching lit vehicles at night from afar, especially if one is within the cozy confines of one's own hearth and home at the time.

Nowadays, I still have pretty much the same vista spread before me, but there have been encroachments.  Due to building developments, part of the stretch of road along which these buses run has been blocked from my view.  I'm lucky if I can spy on the sojourns of these night-time buses for half the span I enjoyed in years past, before they disappear from sight behind a new school near the road.  I can't help but wonder if those narrowing horizons might mirror my life in some symbolic way.

In youth, with the future stretching seemingly endlessly before me, my life was in 'widescreen'; as the years have passed the screen has shrunk until it is now 'regular'.  Imagine if, in some strange way, the remaining visibility of that stretch of road was an indication of the measure of time left to me.  (And that's if I'm lucky.)  Of course, I can only hope that the two aren't connected. Otherwise, if that view of the road and its procession of buses becomes completely obscured anytime soon, then I'll be deep in the soft, smelly brown stuff. 

It's a sobering thought.  And, being a teetotaller, I'm already as sober as I need to be.

TV COMIC - SADLY GONE, BUT NOT FORGOTTEN...

The cover of TV Comic #1, with Muffin The Mule

Believe it or not, Crivs, one of Britain's once-favourite weekly periodicals - TV COMIC - was first published by The NEWS Of The WORLD, at a time when that now defunct organ was presumably regarded in a more favourable and respected light than at the relatively recent end of its 168 year reign.

"Let's be gay"?  I'll pass, you feel free

TV Comic couldn't match that span, unfortunately, but it did manage an extremely impressive nigh-34 year run, in its time featuring a variety of strips based on popular children's television programmes and, initially, also radio. Not all of its content originated on TV of course, the popular MIGHTY MOTH, TV TERRORS, and TEXAS TED being but three examples of original material created for the comic paper.

A 1964 issue.  In the above Popeye strip, Bluto, also known as Brutus in the animated
cartoons, is mistakenly called 'Bruto'.  Below, Fireball XL5 from the same issue 

The first issue, dated November 9th, appeared in 1951, priced fourpence (old money of course) and consisted of only eight pages.  Along with cover star MUFFIN The MULE, other strips included Mr. PASTRY, LARRY The LAMB, TUSKER & TIKKI, plus other characters who would mean nothing to children of today.

The 1st issue of the 1976 new format relaunch (#1292)...

...plus free gift.  Jon Pertwee strip with redrawn Tom Baker heads.  And TV 21 Daleks strip

At some stage, BEAVERBROOK PRESS took over ownership of the title, before POLYSTYLE PUBLICATIONS, the company most associated with it, acquired the comic and continued to publish it until falling circulation ended its not-insignificant run in 1984.  (Number 1697, issue dated June 29th.)  Sadly, by then the comic was but a pale shadow of its former self, containing mainly reprints - a policy TV Comic had often indulged in throughout its history, but never more so than in the last few years of its life.

2nd issue of the new format...

...plus free gift.  Abridged Gold Key reprint

The comic is probably best remembered from the '60s, when it featured DOCTOR WHO, SPACE PATROL, SUPERCAR and FIREBALL XL5, the latter two being based on GERRY ANDERSON's hugely popular puppet programmes.  (After ending their run in TV Comic towards the end of 1964, new adventures of these two strips then appeared in TV CENTURY 21, which debuted at the beginning of 1965.)  This period was undoubtedly TV Comic's heyday, and apart from a time in the early '70s, was never quite as good again.

1500th Anniversary edition

Unfortunately, when the title eventually expired, I was unaware of its fate until many months after the fact and therefore missed buying the final issue.  However, on one of my regular jaunts down to London in 1985, I spied a random selection of issues on a magazine rack in BOB PAYNTER's office.  (Bob, for those of you who may not already know, was the Group Editor of the Humour Division of IPC's weekly comics, such as WHIZZER & CHIPS, BUSTER, WOW!, etc.)  Editors often had a supply of other publishers' titles so that they could keep abreast of what their rivals were up to, hence the issues of TV Comic (amongst others) on his office rack. 

Last ever Christmas issue

As the title was now defunct, Bob must've considered it pointless keeping them, so he kindly gifted me with his own personal copy of the very last issue, which is the actual one pictured in this post.  On the back cover is written: 'Bob Paynter - 2014'.  (His office was on the 20th floor of KING'S REACH TOWER, and I'm guessing that his office number was 14.)  If I recall correctly, he also had the Christmas issue from 1983 - which I already had - but I now seem to associate it more with his office than wherever it was I bought my own copy, which is unusual for me.

The very last issue in 1984

Here then is a look back at one of Britain's favourite comics, from its premiere edition to the last one ever published over 33 and a half years later, with a few random issues in between.  Enjoy.

AND NOW - A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR...

Hard as it may be for many of you to believe, this particular Scotsman is and always has been a complete teetotaller - never touched a drop of alcohol in my life, nosirree.  So I won't be part of the drunken revels no doubt taking place all across the country (and the world) later on tonight.  So what will I be doing, then?

I'll be tucked-up in bed well before the Bells, with my cocoa and an Annual (I'll put on my slippers and walk SALMA to the bus stop first, of course - after all, I know how to treat a lady), before settling down, hopefully, to a peaceful slumber, undisturbed by any Bacchanalian orgies occurring in my neck of the woods.

So, to all those deserving of it - have a happy and prosperous new year.  See you in 2012.

MOEBIUS AT MARVEL... A RUEFUL REFLECTION ON AN EPIC DISAPPOINTMENT AND DISASTER!

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

Behold - The SILVER SURFER!  Yup, here's the shiny, chrome-domed sky-rider himself in the 1988 hardback graphic novel entitled PARABLE (plotted and scripted by STAN LEE), which first appeared in a two-issue comicbook presentation that same year.

Behold, also, what MOEBIUS (the non de plume of artist JEAN GIRAUD) writes about his rendition of the character in his reflections at the back of the book:

"From a strictly academic standpoint, some might say that my Silver Surfer may be better than that of other American artists.  But I think this is a very incomplete and arguable point of view."

In fact, I'd go further.  I'd say it's so unlikely a point of view that it would never have occurred to anybody had he himself not cleverly implanted the suggestion into people's minds, while pre-emptively protecting himself from accusations of vanity (or delusion) by 'modestly' claiming not to subscribe to the idea.  However, the notion of him perhaps being the best Silver Surfer artist to date has doubtless now taken root.

Obviously, not everyone will subscribe to the view, but - with one sentence - he has probably ensured his inclusion as a contender in any future discussions as to who the best illustrator of the former herald of GALACTUS might be.  And (clever him) he's the one who introduced the thought - which had to be 'articulated' first, as it could never have come from merely looking at the book itself.  (Don't get me wrong - there are some nice pictures, but overall it's disappointing.)

So, well done Moebius.  The fact remains though, that while Parable is a nicely written story, it hardly rates up there with the classic issues illustrated by JOHN BUSCEMA.  The art is professional enough, and it is interesting to see another 'take' on the character of NORRIN RADD, but Moebius's ego is the main reason why Stan's plot and scripting are so drastically diluted in their impact, and why the finished product is so disappointingly underwhelming.

His ego?  Yes.  Consider what he has to say about lettering for example:

"To me, the lettering is a form of graphology.  It reflects your own style and personality."

"That's why I don't really understand how an artist can entrust something that important to a hired hand, no matter how good he may be."

"To me, it's monstrous to have an important part of the look of a page determined by an outsider."

"My letter is alive.  It dances on the paper.  It reflects my personality."

"I'd... rather have my own letters than the intrusion of someone else's style on my page.  I really fail to understand how artists can tolerate this."

"The excuse of legibility is, I think, a very poor one.  It is something that can be done away with."

Hark at the conceit of the man.  If you're reading this and happen to know Moebius, kindly give him a good hard slap across the kipper the next time you see him for talking utter b*ll*cks.

Parable is extremely difficult to read.  The balloons and captions are too big and intrusive, and the lettering is sloppy and scratchy, making it hard to decipher in many places, resulting in a start-stop-go back again reading experience.  It's the comics equivalent of watching a DVD which drags, sticks, skips and suffers from sound drop-out.  Incidentally, don't be fooled by these enhanced scans from the superior-printed book edition - the comicbook printings are far, FAR worse.

Clearly Moebius's main mistake is in thinking that a story exists for the purpose of reflecting the artist's personality.  I'm not interested in Moebius's personality (or that of any other writer or artist, come to that).  At least, it's not my primary concern when I buy a comic, book, or DVD.  I bought Parable because I'm interested in the Silver Surfer, not Moebius.  The purpose of a comic, or any other form of storytelling, is to say "Look at that, look at him, look at them, look at the premise, the story, the situation" - not "Look at me!". 

Of course, it goes without saying that any body of work - whether it be comics, books, music, movies, poetry, sculpture, any form of art, in fact - will reveal, to a greater or lesser extent, some aspect of the creator's personality, whether he wishes it to do so or not.  However, that should be a secondary result, apparent only after enjoyment of - and reflection on - the work itself.

It's a bit like looking through a window at an exquisite view beyond.  As one stands there, drinking in the scene, after a while one's focus shifts and the image of one's own reflection in the glass suddenly makes itself known, even if it is somewhat indistinct and transparent.  In a vaguely similar manner, that's how one should regard an artist in comparison to his work - it's the work that should be the main source of interest and fascination, not the artist, though that may (and often does) follow.

Moebius's views on lettering are simply absurd.  All that his own lettering reflects about him is that he isn't very accomplished in the art.  He even admits that "...my lettering on some pages is not always as good as I'd like it to be."  Also, "...maybe I rushed a little too much in places."  Yeah - all the way through the book by the look of it.  What this reveals about the man is that he's more interested in projecting and promoting his 'personality' at the expense of the story.  Or why else would he settle for something less than it could be?

The best products are (usually) produced by the best craftsmen.  This is true for every field of endeavour.  Sometimes one man can do more than one task well, but rarely can one man do all tasks as well as a team of individual specialists.  If Moebius feels that comics exist for the purpose of reflecting the artist's personality, not only should he draw and letter them, he should create his own characters, write his own stories, colour his own strips, design, edit and publish the things to boot.

In illustrating a story by another writer, he acknowledges the collaborative nature of comicbooks, so it seems misguided (to say nothing of egocentric) not to allow someone better qualified than himself to render the script in a way that makes it more readily accessible to the reader, and also complements the art more effectively than his own sub-standard attempts at 'graphology'.

Most artists don't "tolerate" what Moebius complains about - they're grateful for it.  They understand that producing comicbooks is a business, not a conceit, and that the published product is better for having a variety of professionally proficient practitioners participating in the project.  A good penciller benefits from having a good inker, and they both benefit from having a good colourist and a good letterer because they all realize that the end result is greater than the sum of its parts.  (To use a well-worn phrase.)

In conclusion, Moebius admits that his art is "erratic" and his lettering is "a little rushed" and "not always as good" as he'd like it to be.  His art in the book is serviceable at best, his lettering diabolical, and his attitude insulting.  Had JOHN BUSCEMA drawn the book, it would've been a more than worthy addition to the seventeen issues he was responsible for in the '60s.  How could it fail to be, given that Stan plotted and scripted it?

As it stands, however, the power, fluency and relevance of the story have been so compromised by the art and lettering as to reduce it to nothing more than a mildly interesting-but-unsatisfying footnote in the hitherto noteworthy (in the main) annals of the Star-Spanning Sentinel of the Spaceways.

Let's hope that MARVEL one day re-letters the story to an acceptable professional standard, and gives Stan's story the justice it deserves.  Meanwhile, Big John can rest in peace, his reputation fully intact.  When it comes to drawing the Surfer, there's little likelihood that Moebius will ever steal Buscema's crown - despite his self-serving semi-suggestion to the contrary.

Here's how it should be done.  Art by John
Buscema, lettering by Phil Felix

See also http://kidr77.blogspot.com/2012/03/moebius-passes-away.html

NO CONTEST - ARE YOU NUTS?

About ten days back, I decided to do something new (as far as I know) in the world of blogging - hold a comics competition, with a superb collectors' item book about DENNIS The MENACE as the prize.  All that was required was answering five easy questions, the winner to be picked from amongst the correct respondents.

Going by the stat counter, the post got a fair amount of interest - but no one actually ventured to answer the questions.  I have to ask - why?  This was a genuine offer - the book really would have been despatched - at my own expense - to the winner.  Surely the questions weren't too difficult for anyone who knows anything about British comics?

Anyway, the closing date was yesterday (28th), so I'll save the pristine condition, unopened, unread book from 2001 for another time.  That should give you all a chance to do a bit of swotting up on the subject in the meanwhile.  (Am I good to you, or what?) 

STAN LEE - AND ME...

It's STAN (The Man) LEE's birthday today, and that's the only excuse I need to show this photo of the MARVEL MAESTRO and myself again.  (I was freelancing for Marvel when this pic was taken so, in effect, Stan was my boss at the time.)  He's eighty-nine today, which means he's probably only got about another 50 years of productive life ahead of him.  (Everyone knows that comicbook heroes age at a slower rate than the rest of us, and Stan's the biggest comicbook hero of them all.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY STAN!

Now, as it's Stan's birthday, why not treat yourself to this nice book all about him?  It's published by TWOMORROWS PUBLISHING, and is likely still available at your local comics shop.

BELMONT ON BOXING DAY...

My old primary school in 1984/'85

Christmastime tends to make me sentimental - usually for the Christmases of my past, but also for the past in general.  Above is a photo taken back in the mid-1980s (on a 110mm camera, hence the less-than-sharp image) of the view across the road and down the hill from the house in which I lived from 1965 until '72.

Thirteen years later, things were pretty much the same as they'd always been, apart from the absence of the annexed huts in the grounds of my old primary school.  Around four years later (1989), amenity housing for the elderly was built on the field in the foreground, and - currently - a new school is being built on the football pitches in the background.  When it's completed, at some as yet undetermined time, the old school - my old school - will be demolished and houses and/or flats will be built in its place.

I attended this school for nearly five years (between '65 and '70) and, due to its proximity to my house, I also played within its grounds 'after hours' and at weekends.  Even after moving from the neighbourhood, I found myself back in its hallowed halls on many occasions over the years; at coffee mornings, jumble sales, and Christmas fayres and the like.  It's strange to think that one day, in the not-too-distant future, this small but reassuring pleasure of reconnecting with this particular aspect of my childhood will be denied me when the school is no longer there.

The view from the upstairs hallway

I often take a walk along to my old school of an evening (weather permitting, and sometimes even when it isn't) and, if no one else is around, sit on a bench in what's left of the playground for a while and lose myself in memories of yesteryear, recalling what it was like to be a boy with eternity in his grasp.  (Or so it seemed at the time.)  Strange as it may sound, I just want to spend some time in its company while I still can, before it's taken from me forever.

It's a bittersweet experience, not unlike sitting at the bedside of a terminally-ill friend or relative who hasn't even been told he's dying, never mind that it will be soon.  (Happened to a friend of mine, believe it or not.)  I sit and look at my old school and just remember - and when I take my unwilling leave, I feel like a cad for pretending that everything is as it was and always will be.

The school doesn't know its fate, you see.  It welcomes me in the same simple, honest, 'glad-to-see-me' way each time, unaware of the secret I'm keeping.  It probably regards the new building under construction as a companion, not a replacement.  (I wonder if old dogs think the same when a new puppy is brought into the house, or do they somehow know that this presages their inevitable end - and resent it?)  Each time I leave, I hope I have enough time to come back again before... well, you know - 'before'...

Photo taken by departing teacher Mrs. Tighe in 1967.  The annexed
 huts sat at the edge of the playground directly in front of the school 

But hark at me, imbuing inanimate objects with sentience and feelings.  Just can't help it though.  Each time I learn that a landmark from my childhood has (or is about to) become a victim of 'progress' (and there've been quite a few casualties over the years), I feel diminished in some way; almost as though my very essence is being eroded along with those monuments to my youth, as - one by one, year by year - yet another of my life's 'signposts' falls by the wayside, never to be seen again.  (Except in faded photographs and dim and distant memories of younger and happier times.)

Perhaps that accounts for the compulsion of collectors like myself to seek out and surround ourselves with tangible reminders of the past.  Each treasure from childhood that we succeed in reacquiring is an attempt to compensate in some way for everything else that is lost to us over the years, and somehow helps to close the gap between then and now.  

Soon, the New Year will be upon us, and we'll toast it as the harbinger of new hope and new beginnings, conveniently forgetting that it's a false friend who promises much, but delivers little - with each and every visit leaving us only less time to look forward to than we had before.

******

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A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS & A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL CRIVVIES...

Image copyright D.C. THOMSON & Co., Ltd

Here's hoping you've all found something worth reading in your visits to

this humble site.  Hope to see you back in the New Year - if not sooner.

BEANO AND DANDY BARGAINS...

Although it will probably be possible to pick up the 2012 BEANO and DANDY Annuals for around £1.99 each after Christmas as shops try to offload leftover stock, if you're still looking to put a little something extra into wee Jimmy's stocking before the 25th, then get yourself down to SAINSBURY'S today (Christmas Eve) while there's still time.  Why?  Because they're currently selling their Annuals for a mere £3 each, which is a pretty decent bargain - both of them for £6.

 Remember, you read it here first. 

CHRISTMAS WITH BIG HEAD AND THICK HEAD...



From The Dandy, issue dated Feb 8th, 1964

I'm actually ancient enough to remember when KEN REID's artwork appeared in D.C. THOMSON comics, before he later became a mainstay over at ODHAMS PRESS, then FLEETWAY/IPC.  The original artist of ROGER The DODGER, he also drew JONAH and GRANDPA for The BEANO, as well as the adventures of BIG HEAD And THICK HEAD, which appeared on the back page of The DANDY every week.

After departing for Odhams, he was replaced by FRANK McDIARMID, who - going by the example below - managed to imitate his style very well indeed.

From The Dandy, issue dated Dec 25th, 1965

So, here's another Christmas treat for all you discerning Criv-ites - two Big Head and Thick Head back-page Dandy delights for your personal perusal and appreciation.