SECOND STAR TO THE RIGHT...

Illustration by MICHAEL FOREMAN

All children, except one, grow up.  They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this.  One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother.  I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, "Oh, why can't you remain like this forever!"  This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up.  You always know after you are two.  Two is the beginning of the end.

So wrote author J. M. BARRIE in the opening paragraph of PETER PAN.  And it's true; I know because I had a similar experience when I was three or four years old.  My mother had been outlining my future to me one day, probably preparing me for when I'd be starting primary school.  "And what happens then?" I asked, curious about what lay before me.  There then followed a description of the different stages of my life to which I could 'look forward', interspersed at each pause with "And what happens then?" from myself.  Eventually, having worked through my life from primary school to adulthood, she rested from her labours, thinking her duty done.

"And what happens then?" I again enquired, tenacious infant that I was.  She thought for a moment before replying  "Then you grow old."  The inevitable "And what happens then?" from me.  "Then you die," she said, simply.  I had no concept of death, so persisted.  "And what happens then?"  I was like a broken record, but probably more grating.  "Nothing happens then - when you're dead, you're dead," she said, matter-of-factly.

(I should perhaps here mention that my mother's response was a surprising one, given her own beliefs.  She went to church and sent me and my brother to Sunday school, and did, in fact, subscribe to the concept of the afterlife, though probably more from a superstitious point of view than from an informed one.  I can only assume that she regarded such an idea beyond my young powers of comprehension, and was speaking merely from the physical perspective.)

This greatly disturbed me, and when I was put to bed that evening, I couldn't sleep.  I eventually made my way downstairs, repeating "I don't want to die, I don't want to die!" over and over again.  It's no exaggeration to say that the notion of total oblivion had traumatised me.  My parents did their best to console me, saying that death was a long way off and that I shouldn't be concerned with it.  I eventually calmed down, but could never quite escape the dark shadow of the fate that loomed ahead of me.  I decided there and then that if growing up meant growing old, and growing old meant dying, then I would simply never grow up!  I'd be a child forever.  I stated aloud my determination and was then put back to bed, where sleep eventually claimed me.

Henceforth, whenever any friends of my parents would ask me (as friends of parents inevitably will) what I was going to be when I grew up, before I could even answer, my parents would respond with "He's not going to grow up, he's going to be just like Peter Pan!"  (This happened on more than one occasion.)  It was therefore surprising when I picked up J. M. Barrie's book in my thirties to find a similar experience to my own recounted in its opening pages.  How amazing is that?  A story about a boy with whom I'd been compared from an early age, and the very first paragraph resonates immediately.  Curiously, like WALT DISNEY's version of the character (though it's not in the book), I've never been able to click my fingers.

It's rather apt, then, that in my teenage years, my nickname became 'Kid', which I've been called ever since.  (The story behind that can be found here.)  Not everyone who knew me was aware of the appellation though, only a particular group of friends and acquaintances (and their families) who lived in my neighbourhood.  When I started freelancing for IPC's 2000 A.D. in 1985, I used it in the credit boxes because it was easier to fit in the allocated space.

"Two is the beginning of the end."  However, I refuse to grow old.  I'm going to be a "boy eternal" (as SHAKESPEARE put it) and try my best to retain what KENNETH GRAHAME calls "the spirit of youth" within me.  In the end, of course, it may not stave off expiration, but life is a hell of a lot more fun along the way.

BOBBY DRAKE - STRAIGHT AS A DIE...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

Let me tell you about my pal, ROBERT - or BOBBY as he was called by all those who knew him.  Bobby usually hung about with another group of friends, but they let me share in their exploits from time to time.  Bobby was slightly... different to most boys and attended a special school.  In fact, so did his four closest friends, SCOTT, WARREN, HANK and JEAN.  I knew them from when I was about eight, though they were all slightly older than me - teenagers actually.  Not that it mattered much, as they never held my junior years against me.  At some stage we drifted apart and I lost track of them.  I later heard a rumour that Jean had died, but I was never quite sure whether she actually had or not.

Today I heard that Bobby came out as gay, which surprised me.  He always seemed interested in girls and even had a girlfriend called ZELDA.  I suspect that the Professor at the special school he used to attend has convinced him by devious means to issue this claim, in some kind of PC/PR attempt to make the place seem more inclusive of different types of people.  Or perhaps it was the company he works for.  However, the Bobby I knew was as straight as they come and, to me, he always will be.  I don't care what he or anyone else says - he's not gay.  Never was, never will be.

BOB HOPE once joked that he didn't mind homosexuality being legal, just so long as it didn't become compulsory.  Poor Bobby.  It seems he's become the latest victim in the PR assault to transform the world into a place that reflects the tastes, desires and whims of a small percentage of the world's population.  It appears that tolerance isn't enough for them - they won't be content until they achieve total world domination.

Sounds like a job for the X-MEN.  The original X-Men, that is, as their creators intended them to be.  Which weren't as pawns in the hands of those with no respect for the characters' history, so cavalierly abandoned in pursuit of an agenda.

 

KELLOGG'S THUNDERBIRDS CRAFT...

Copyright relevant owner

Remember the great little THUNDERBIRDS craft that cereal company KELLOGG'S gave away in packets of SUGAR SMACKS back in 1967?  I used to have all four and thought they were absolutely superb.  Would love to own them again, so I suppose I'd better get back on to eBay.  Maybe I might strike it lucky.

Incidentally, someone is selling a broken Thunderbird 4 on ebay for a 'mere' £79.99.  What a chancer!  (Update: I've now acquired a TB2 & TB4 without having to break the bank.  Great condition too.)

BABE Of The DAY - KELLY BROOK...

                                               I'm scratching my belly,

                                                                    my feet are real smelly,

                                                                    there's nothing on telly,

                                                                    so here's lovely KELLY -

                                                                 BROOK, that is.

SEAN CONNERY ON WHAT'S MY LINE...

WHAT'S MY LINE?  Surely the answer to that is "My name's Bond... James Bond!"?  Take a look at this clip - it's pretty obvious that the panel knew who it was all along, as there's nothing 'Big Tam' says that gives his identity away in the slightest.

DON'T GET ON MY NERVS - PART ONE...

Copyright REBELLION

From the first combined issue of SMASH! & POW! (#137), September 14th 1968, comes The NERVS by the late KEN REID.  Every U.K. comics reader of a certain age knows who Ken is, and recognises his immense stature and prominent position in the pantheon of great British cartoonists and illustrators.  If you're a 'newbie' who is unfamiliar with Ken's work, before you now lies the joy of discovery of something truly precious.  Enjoy! 

SUPERMAN'S BOY FRIEND, JIMMY OLSEN...?

Image copyright DC COMICS

You're looking at a corner cover icon that JACK KIRBY drew for DC's JIMMY OLSEN magazine which, for some reason, was never used.  It's natural to wonder why, and being the inquisitive soul that I am, I did.  After all, icons were used for other Kirby DC mags, so why not this one.  (A SWAN & ANDERSON icon appeared in its place.)

Could it be that, when reduced, it kind of looks as though Jimmy is trying to grab his pal's hand as they skip gaily side-by-side?  Perhaps DC bigwigs felt that the image was just a tad too 'camp' for their greatest superhero and his best buddy, but whatever the reason, it was never used at the time, only turning up in print years later in, I think, a TWOMORROWS publication.

Of course, nowadays, in an age when some prat in pursuit of an agenda dares suggest that Supes should be turned gay or bisexual so that certain minorities can feel good about themselves, it may well yet see service if such a thing should ever come about.  Let's hope not, eh?  Not even a nice bit of Kirby art is worth messing with a legend.

(And let's face it - CLARK BENT doesn't have quite the same ring to it.)

ROBIN #1 (1985)...

Images copyright relevant owner

Here's a comic I picked up in Portsmouth in 1985 when I was staying down there for a few months.  I bought it purely because it was a number one, recognising it as a revival of an earlier version which had come out in 1953.  The original ROBIN was published first by HULTON PRESS, then ODHAMS PRESS, and finally IPC MAGAZINES.  It lasted 836 issues until 1969 and was then incorporated into PLAYHOUR.

This second incarnation of the comic was far less successful, lasting, I believe, only two issues (plus an Annual for '86, likely prepared at the beginning of '85) before vanishing forever.*  I really must track down that second ish someday, then I'll be able to boast having the complete 'set'.  In the meantime, whenever I want to remember my time in Fratton, Portsmouth, in the first few months of 1985, one of the comics that brings it all back to me is this 30-year-old nursery title.

Here are a select few pages to give you a taste of it.

******

(*Update November 2024: I've just learned that it actually lasted for around five months, the final issue being cover-dated 29th June 1985, so it did better than I thought.)

And, as a bonus, here's the cover to the first version from 1953.

BABE Of The DAY - KATE UPTON...

D'you realise just how hard it is to pick

a Babe of the Day for all you pantin' Crivs?

I have to pore over thousands of pics of pretty

gals in order to choose just one that'll meet the

exacting standards you've come to expect from

the best blog for babes outside of a porn site

(so I've been told... cough).  Anyway, here's

 KATE UPTON to quicken your pulse.

WELCOME To The VILLAGE...

Every week, for about 10 or 12 years, I used to visit a little village overlooking the sea.  The stone cottages, the rowboats on the beach, the hills in the distance, all were familiar sights to me for a large part of my childhood and teenage years.  To me, this village existed only in a framed print of a painting hanging on my grandparents' living-room wall above the fireplace (though, as far as I know, it's a real location), and that framed window was a portal into a place of peace and tranquillity beside the seashore.

I still visit that little little island today on occasion, as that self-same painting passed into our possession when my grandparents moved into an old folks home in the late 1970s or very early '80s.  When I want to remember those halcyon days (to use a well-worn phrase) of my childhood, I'll wander into the room in which it hangs and stand and gaze upon it, recalling a vanished era that becomes more precious to me the farther it recedes on the horizon of history.

The painting is by an artist named T.R. SANDERSON, of whom I can find no personal details when I Google the name, though there are examples of his or her art on view.  Does anyone know anything about the artist, and - even more important - can you identify where the above picture was actually painted?  Who knows, one day I may actually stand on the spot where the painting was produced, and pretend to myself that I've stepped through the frame and onto that hopefully not too far distant shore. 

PART TWO Of CAPTAIN BRITAIN COVER, SPLASH PAGE & IMAGE GALLERY...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

Still with us?  Good.  Here's a post that all those who lived through the 1970s and bought the comics of the era should enjoy.  CAPTAIN BRITAIN was a weekly periodical published by MARVEL U.K., and probably had more colour in it than any other British comic (outside of a nursery title) on sale at the time.  Sadly, it wasn't to last for the mag's entire run, but it made the initial issues stand out as something different from its stablemates and competitors.

I'd bought the first five issues (seen in part one) while working in the warehouse of my local BOOTS The CHEMIST, and one glance at them and I'm back walking the corridors I last trod nearly 40 years ago.  (I used to buy the comic from JOHN MENZIES while on my way to work in the morning.)  At some stage in the late '70s or early '80s, I gave all my CBs (and also the merged SUPER SPIDER-MAN & CAPTAIN BRITAIN issues) to a pal, who still has most of them.  I kept #1, but a few years later, I regretted my rash action and started buying replacement issues from various sources.

This results in an odd situation, in that, although I still retain the initial impressions and associations that these comics made on me when I bought them the first time around, because I was living in another house when I acquired the replacements, many of the issues also conjure up memories of my time there as well as my previous (original) set of recollections.  It's almost as if I've  lived two lives around  the same comics, strange as that may sound.

However, my self-indulgent reminiscences have held you back long enough from all the goodies awaiting you.  It's now time for you to refresh your own personal recollections connected to the five issues set forth here - so cast your mind back to the long ago, and prepare to relive yesteryear as if were happening in the here and now for the very first time.  (And don't be shy about sharing your memories with the rest of us.)