RECOMMENDED READING: DAREDEVIL EPIC COLLECTION VOLUME THREE...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

Are you a comicbook fan?  Are you a MARVEL fan?  Are you a DAREDEVIL fan?  Well then, Melvin, your luck is in, as the newest EPIC COLLECTION of ol' Hornhead is now available from all good comics shops.  This is volume 3, but don't panic, volume 2 hasn't been released yet.  (They publish them out of sequence for some curious reason.)  Anyway, read the spiel on the back cover (below), sell (yes, 'sell', not 'tell' - it's not a typo) the wife or girlfriend, then rush out and buy this 'must-have' softcover book right away.

(You know it makes sense!)

RECOMMENDED READING: The AVENGERS #4.1...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

For all those who haven't yet latched on to MARVEL's The AVENGERS .1 series, above is the latest issue's cover to whet your appetite.  On sale now at all good comics shops.  If you're fortunate, you might still be able to pick up previous issues, but if not, start saving for the soft-cover collection.  There's bound to be one.

BABE Of The DAY - SALMA HAYEK...

Here's sexy, sensational SALMA HAYEK to

remind all you guys just what a real woman looks

like.  Put aside that bicycle pump you use to inflate

your 'girlfriend' and set your sights higher.  Salma is

'goddess' level - so not quite this high for you yet,

 h'mm?  (Maybe one day - if you're lucky!)

2000 A.D. 40TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL...

Images copyright REBELLION

Hell's teeth!  Has it really been 40 years since 2000 A.D. landed in newsagents' shops all across Britain?  Yup, sure has.  I must admit that though I took great professional pride in freelancing for IPC's top-selling title, it never really appealed to me as a reader.  I far preferred MARVEL U.K.'s line of weekly periodicals, short-lived though some of them were.

I probably gave up on 2000 A.D. after #3, the last of the initial free gift issues.  The comic was too bleak, too negative, too dystopian for my tastes.  There was nothing about any of the future scenarios displayed within its pages that was desirable, and in which any sane and sensible person would want to live.  PAT MILLS, the creator of the comic, had nothing but disdain (if not outright contempt) for superheroes, whereas it was my ambition to become one.  (Haven't given up hope yet.)

The cover of #1, 1977

So 2000 A.D. wasn't for me.  I collected a short run of issues around 1979, but jumped ship again when it reverted to cheap newsprint after having enjoyed superior printing for a while.  I didn't pick it up again until I began freelancing for the comic at the beginning of 1986, and the only real 'thrill-power' I ever experienced was seeing my name in print (or getting paid), as most of the stories failed to impress me.

Oh, they were competent and professional, but trying just a bit too hard to be 'down wiv the kids', who, it seemed to me, were attracted to the mag not for any quality of writing, but for the violence.  (I was once in a newsagent's, when I overheard two kids trying to persuade their parents to buy them an issue.  "It's great - you see people getting their arms and heads chopped off and being blown to bits!")

The cover of the 'dummy' issue

However, 40 years is 40 years, and I'm glad to see that 2000 A.D. yet survives. True, it sells nowhere near as many copies as it did in my day, and I suspect it's being kept going (on 'life-support') more for the potential exploitation in other media (movies, games, etc.) of its properties, than because of any profit brought in from the comic itself.  I still have a fond affection for it though, even if it's more from a former contributor's perspective than a reader's.  Which is why I made a point of picking up the 40th Anniversary Special when I saw it today.

I have to be completely honest - looking through its pages, I don't feel particularly motivated to read it.  Murky, muddy colour in the JUDGE DREDD strip, and trying far too hard to be wild and wacky, but in an embarrassing, 'drunk uncle at a party' way that doesn't do it any favours at all.  SLAINE rips off takes inspiration from the BLACK KNIGHT fight scene in MONTY PYTHON & The HOLY GRAIL and displays neither wit nor wisdom, serving only to reinforce the juvenile (if not infantile) humour aspect that permeated the title many years back, when writers who regarded themselves as too good for 'children's' comics started trying to be clever for their own amusement, and proved only that they were too far up their own @rses.

It was good seeing JOHNNY ALPHA and DURHAM RED again, drawn, as in my day, by CARLOS EZQUERRA, but it felt odd seeing the strip without my lettering. (After this post, there's no chance of that ever happening again, eh?)  To be frank, this issue seems altogether irrelevant and superficial, and I'd be surprised (though not unhappy) if 2000 A.D. ever manages to match The DANDY's or The BEANO's 75 year, British record-breaking run.

However, don't let me put you off from joining in the 40th Birthday celebrations - buy a copy today and make up your own minds.  Then give me hell in the comments section.  "Unleash the dogs of war!"  (But don't dare dirty the carpet with paw-prints or doggie-poo, understood?)

See?  Even THARG can lie

(BOND) BABE Of The DAY - MADELINE SMITH...

I asked MADDIE to help me with

something earlier on, but she said she

couldn't as she had her hands full.  She's

always got an excuse, that girl - I dunno

why I keep her around.  (Must be some

 reason, but I can't think what it is.)

SCHOOLTIME SCANDALS - PART ELEVEN: DINNERTIMES CAN BE DANGEROUS...

The teachers' table sat in front of (and parallel to) the stage

Believe it or not, I was rather shy and introverted as a primary school pupil and didn't mix well with my fellows.  Back in my day, it was the practice to pair off with a classmate when en route to anywhere in the school by saying "Take!" and clasping the hand of the favoured (or simply available) choice of partner before making our way (in a double-filed line) to whichever part of the school we were led by the teacher.

One day (in 1966), the bell rang for dinner, and the playground emptied as the throng of kids made its way into the corridor outside the dining hall, pairing off while awaiting permission to enter.  (I'm unsure why we were in the playground at dinnertime, but we were.  Perhaps we were the second wave of hungry diners that day.)

Anyway, I hung back because I didn't have a fellow pupil to pair off with - for two reasons.  Firstly, no one picked me, and secondly, I was just too shy to put myself forward.  My brother found me lurking in the corridor and enquired why I wasn't in the hall filling my face.  I explained my situation and he took me to see Mr. Curry, the janitor.  Wishing to avoid embarrassing me by saying "He's too shy to go into the hall by himself", he just said "He was at the far end of the playground and didn't hear the dinner-bell."

Mr. Curry took me to the door of the hall, opened it and actually whistled to the teachers sat at the 'top table'.  Mr. Halliburton, the deputy head looked over, and Mr. Curry nodded at me in a contemptuous manner.  "Didn't hear the bell," he explained as Mr. Halliburton came over, in a tone which suggested "a likely story".

Without saying a single word to me, Mr. Halliburton grabbed me by the back of my shirt collar and, no exaggeration, my feet barely scuffed the stairs as he ascended to his classroom on the top floor.  There, he administered several strokes of 'the strap', with such severity I had the wind knocked out of me.  Then he dragged me back down to the hall and said to one of the dinner ladies "Give this boy his food!"

Ignore the doorway on your left.  It was the doorway to the side of
it on your right from which Mr. Curry hailed Mr. Halliburton

I'll choose my next words very carefully.

What a nasty, sadistic b*st*rd!  No sympathy, no empathy, no clue about how to deal with kids who were a bit self-conscious or introverted.  How he was ever allowed to be a teacher, never mind a headmaster (as he later became) remains a complete mystery to me.  I met him at various times in my teenage and adult years, and though I was always perfectly polite to him, I never forgot the appalling way he had punished my 7-year-old self for merely being a bit shy and lacking in confidence.  Schoolkids today don't know just how fortunate they are, that's for sure.

One of his two sons was in my class in secondary school, and I always felt just a little bit sorry for him.  Not that he was a sad individual or anything like that, but I have the impression that he copped a fair bit of grief simply for being his father's son.  Mr. Halliburton hadn't been well-liked by quite a number of pupils, and poor Neville would've had that situation to deal with, unfortunately.  Probably the opposite of his primary school days I imagine, when none of his classmates would've dared touch him for fear of incurring his pater's sadistic and unholy wrath.

I last saw Mr. Halliburton around 9 years or so ago, but he was pretty ancient, and I'd be surprised (though undismayed) to learn that he's yet alive.  If it's not already happened, it won't be long until it's Mr. Halliburton's turn to see 'The Headmaster'.  I'm not so bitter over my experience though, that I'd begrudge him being accorded the understanding, insight, and mercy that he seemed incapable of displaying towards his unfortunate pupils.

Hey, maybe I'm a better person than I thought.

******

Incidentally, there's a subsequent incident involving Mr. Halliburton where I defied his attempt to punish me again.  I'll tell you Criv-ites all about it another time.     

TEENAGE TALES: JENNY AULD And A COUPLE Of 'MONKEYS'...

JENNY AULD

Just learned that a retired teacher from my old secondary school passed away last week.  JENNY AULD was her name, and she was a well-known figure around the town as she seemed to have lived for centuries.  I can't remember if I was ever actually in her class, but I have an impression that she filled in for absent teachers on a couple of occasions, so she was in 'mine'.

Thinking of a particular 'encounter' I had with her makes me smile to this very day, as it reminds me of my teenage youth around 1973 or '74.  A new indoor shopping complex had not long been completed in my town, and there was some low scaffolding attached to a wall at the side of the opening to the underpass which led into the new retail centre known as The Plaza.

Me and a friend by the name of 'Adam Cowie' (who regular readers will know as 'Billy Liar') were swinging like a couple of monkeys on one of the scaffolding bars one Saturday afternoon, when who should turn the corner but Mrs. Jenny Auld herself.  She looked at us quizzically and then said "Must you?" in a mildly-reproving (but not totally unfriendly) tone.

That very piece of wall, sans scaffolding, in 2017

My friend and I looked at one another for a split-second, then returned our gaze to her.  "Yes - we must!" we said in mock-falsetto voices in unison - then burst out laughing.  She raised her eyebrows as she passed, but I thought I could detect the faint hint of an amused smile about her lips.  We did wonder if we might get 'pulled up' at school on Monday, but we weren't.

Even to this day, if ever I hear an exasperated parent enquire of their unruly offspring "Must you?", I can't suppress the small voice in my head that automatically responds "Yes - we must!"  Then I smile to myself, and for a moment I'm back in the early 1970s, when my town was much younger, smaller, and better than it is now.  (Just like me, come to think of it.)

Here's to Jenny - may she rest in peace.

GUEST POST By AMIABLE AL: The MORE THINGS CHANGE...

Pin-up of The THING, FF #2.  Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

Are you in for a treat!  No, that's not a question, it's a statement of fact.  ALAN McKENZIE, writer, editor, and a former wearer of 2000 A.D.'s mantle of THARG, has graciously written the following guest post which you're now about to read (if you're smart).  I'm making a rod for my own back here, because after you've read Al's post, the ones I write in future might seem disappointing by comparison.  Never mind, I'll just have to up my game.  Ready?  Okay, Al - take it away.

******    

I was thinking about The Thing recently.  Mostly because I was writing a post over on my 'Marvel in the Silver Age' blog, all about the Human Torch stories in Marvel's Strange Tales mags of the early '60s.  Back then, it seemed that no one could agree on what The Thing looked like.  Even Jack Kirby drew him in different ways in different titles... or so I thought.  But as I started to look at different comics that included the character during those formative years, it seemed more and more like there was a definite timeline.

Narrow doorways?  Then how did he get into the store?  (From FF #1)

In the first few issues of Fantastic Four, Jack Kirby was drawing The Thing like a big shapeless lump of orange clay.  This 'mudslide' Thing would last just a few months before Kirby started to tinker with his appearance.  So in the first issue of FF (dated Nov 1961, on sale in Aug), Ben Grimm's monstrous alter ego looked... well, kinda monstrous.  There's no real shape to him.  His head seems to join directly to his shoulders without the benefit of a neck.  I'm guessing Kirby's thinking here was to make him look like a heavyweight wrestler, or an over-developed bodybuilder... in brown underpants.  And he acted all monstrous, as well.  He seemed constantly in a bad mood and there was a real sense of danger to the character.  There was also a weird undercurrent that he fancied Sue Storm and wanted her for himself.

Yeah, right.  Lose your temper, reach for a tree.  I do it all the time

It's been said elsewhere that the cosmic quartet are based on alchemical elements.  Mister Fantastic is Water, because his body can flow into any shape.  The Human Torch is Fire, of course.  The Invisible Girl is Air.  And The Thing is Earth... which aptly fits his 'mudslide' appearance.  The second issue of FF (dated Jan '62) included a pin-up page of The Thing, which gave us a really good look at the character, as pencilled by Jack Kirby and inked by George Klein.  There's no reason to think that Klein was in any way stamping his own version of The Thing on top of Kirby's original pencils.  This would have been the way Kirby was drawing the character at this point.

The THING rips off his costume.  Be still my beating heart

With FF #3 (dated Mar '62), there was a bit of a shift away from super-powered individuals in street clothes.  My guess is that Stan Lee wanted the characters to have costumes - or maybe it was publisher Martin Goodman - but anyhow, first chance he got, The Thing ripped his costume to shreds, so there's not much doubt on where Kirby stood.  (Though, on the pencils for page 7, Sue was wearing a mask, her intention being they'd all cover their faces - but it was erased before inking.)  There wasn't any real change in FF #5, except that The Thing was now in blue underpants and black booties.  He was still the same old mudslide, pencilled by Kirby and inked, for the first time, by Joe Sinnott.  Below, left, is a nice page of original art from FF #5 which better shows how the character looked at this point in his development.

In FF #6 (dated Sep '62 - above, right), inked by Dick Ayers for the first time, The Thing has lost the boots and gained a neck.  There seemed to be a move away from the mudslide look and Ayers was inking Ben Grimm as though his skin had the texture of dinosaur hide.  And this look would persist for the next year and a bit, so I'd always believed that's what Kirby had intended.  But here's something startling I noticed.  Take a look (below) at how Jack drew The Thing on the cover of FF #7 (dated Nov '62), just a year after his initial appearance.  It's the 'blocky' Thing readers would later come to know and love, but more commonly associate with the character's looks in 1964.  And we know this is what JK intended because he inked his own cover pencils on #7.

Meanwhile, inside the mag (above, left), The Thing is still inked by Ayers to look like he has dinosaur hide.  Over the next year or so, we'd continue to have the dinosaur-hide Thing in the Ayers-inked stories.  I'm not saying Ayers invented the dinosaur-hide look though.  In fact, below is a pencil sketch by Jack likely done in the early part of '62 which shows otherwise... but I do think Ayers was responsible for keeping the dinosaur-hide Thing going (possibly at Stan's instruction) long past the point when JK had moved on from that particular look.

1962 pencil drawing of The THING for
JERRY BAILS' fanzine ALTER-EGO

There he goes, ripping off his clothes again - swoon!  (FF #18)

With FF #18 (dated Sep '63), the blocky Thing made yet another appearance, on the cover (above), inked by Paul Reinman... though inside the comic, we still had Ayers' dinosaur-hide Thing.  It wouldn't be until Ayers was moved onto other assignments by Stan, that George Roussos (as Bell) would come in - at FF #21 (dated Dec '63) - and start inking The Thing the way that Jack Kirby was pencilling him... in all his blocky glory (below).

The rocky, blocky THING that fans came to know and love

And simply because I came across them while looking for images for this article, above is a Jack Kirby pencil drawing of The Fantastic Four from 1965 (Marie Severin redrew The Torch figure), and a later one from 1977, both depicting the familiar blocky Thing.  Much, much later, other hands - John Byrne, I'm looking at you - would revive the look of good old mudslide Thing for an entertaining run of issues (during his tenure from FF #232, dated Jul 1981 - #293, dated Aug '86).  In #238, Mister Fantastic tried once again to cure Ben's condition... the outcome was that The Thing reverted to his original, mudslide appearance.  The condition would last for a couple of years before The Thing mutated again...

...but that's a tale for another time.

******

And a great big Crivens thanks to Al for taking the time and trouble to write this fascinating guest post.  Feel entirely free to register your appreciation in our comments section.

BABE Of The DAY - BERNADETTE PETERS...

You can write your own caption for

the beautiful BERNADETTE PETERS.

 I'm off for a lie down for a while.

ROOBARB & CUSTARD...

Copyright ROOBARB Enterprises, Ltd

A great TV show I loved in the 1970s was ROOBARB & CUSTARD, narrated by RICHARD BRIERS.  The animation was shaky (deliberately so), the storylines were mental, and the theme tune was pure dead brilliant (as we say in Glasgow).  I was glad to see some comic strips based on the show in the TV COMIC Annual for 1977 (which I bought near the end of '76), so I thought you might like to see them too.

(TV Comic Annual 1977 - the gift that keeps on giving.)

FAMOUS FILM STAR FOUND IN A 'THREESOME'...

Copyright METRO-GOLDWYN-MAYER, Inc

I don't know if BARNEY BEAR ever appeared in a comic strip in America, but he had his own page in the weekly TV COMIC here in Britain.  The strips featured in this post were drawn by BILL TITCOMBE, one of the finest cartoonists this country ever produced.

So, enjoy a 'threesome' of Barney Bear strips from TV Comic Annual for 1977 (issued in '76).  Go on, have a laugh on me.  (On, I said, not at, you rascals.)

(Note that the stories have an element of wit about them, usually lacking in today's offerings.  If they were still writing them like this, maybe more people would be buying what few British comics remain.)

RIP-ROARING REPOST: 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.   

CALLING ALL COOL CRIV-ITES...

Hi, Criv-ite chums.  Can you do me a favour?  At the bottom of each post is a three-choice option of approval - funny, interesting and cool.  After perusing or commenting on any of my pulsating posts, could you register your reaction by clicking on one of the boxes?  It'd be much appreciated.  Ta.  (Update: Options now vanished - don't know why or to where.)

BABE Of The DAY - ABIGAIL RATCHFORD...

This pic of ABIGAIL RATCHFORD poses

an interesting question.  Namely, the water is only

three inches deep - so how does she manage to pose

in it?  Is she standing in a hole perhaps?  (Or am I

just talking my usual load of old cobblers?)

BOB BILLENS - CARD-CARRYING COMEDY CREATOR (IN HIS DREAMS)...

Here's another tale about 'Bob Billens', which ably illustrates how some people who think they know what they want don't actually have a Scooby about how things work.  The sheer level of stupidity involved is difficult to believe.  Here's what happened.

'Bob' had recently taken a comedy writing course and was confidently convinced he had the talent to earn some extra dosh by supplying humour sketches to radio and TV shows.  Amazingly, he did actually provide some material to a few shows, but never really managed to make much of a mark.  However, he decided to get a business card printed for this new enterprise and asked me if I'd provide an illustration for it.  (As a favour, obviously.)

Demonstrating an amazingly 'original' touch of 'creativity' (that's sarcasm by the way), he asked me to draw a 'cartoon' of a kilt-wearing Scotsman carrying a giant pen.  (I can't recall whether I originally drew him with a 'tam o' shanter' or added it later at Bob's request.)  I duly produced the cliched caricature and sent it off to him, only to receive a list of 'improvements' practically by return post.  (This was in the mid-1980s - the internet hadn't yet conquered the world.)

Make him taller, thinner, and older, with a longer face.  Give him hairy legs, a tattoo on his arm, and a bottle of whisky with a triple 'x' on the label.  Add garters to his socks, and change his boots to brogues - all of which I did in double-quick time.  Reinforcing the stereotype of the drunken Scottish bampot may have seemed like a stroke of comedy genius to Bob, but I didn't think it was particularly inventive - or funny.

Anyway, I eventually received one of his cards and I couldn't believe it.  (Call me Victor.)  In order to reduce the figure I'd drawn to a size the card would accommodate, he'd photocopied it many times over, making it smaller with each copy 'til it fitted.

Not only had most of the linework been wiped out with each successive copy, but the figure on the finished card was only a few millimeters high, rendering all the detail he'd requested redundant from the very start.  What a tube!  Talk about wanting the Book of Genesis on a postage stamp - this was seriously rippin' the p*ss.  What's worse was, he'd clumsily and ineptly tried to retouch the missing linework, making a total pig's ear of the whole thing in the process. 

But guess what?  He was actually quite pleased with the card, believing it was his 'input' which had resulted in something bound to impress everyone who saw it.  To me, the only impression it would've made was that the card-holder was deluded.  I subsequently used the figure on a leaflet for a restaurant, but not before I made a mental note to be 'busy' should Bob ever ask for my help on any future 'projects'.

I still shake my head in disbelief at the memory.  I'll add scans of the card and his 'instructions' when I remember where I put them, but in the meantime, the figure at the top of the post was copied from the original drawing some years ago.  (I omitted the whisky and pen as they were surplus to requirements.) 

BABE Of The DAY - IMOGEN HASSALL...

Lovely IMOGEN HASSALL stares

longingly at me from across the room, as

I prance about in my YOGI BEAR under-

pants.  I know how to dress to impress - as

does the sultry and enchanting Imogen,

 as you can clearly see.  Wotta gal!

RAMBLING REMINISCENCE: RED AND CRIMSON ARE NOT ALWAYS THE SAME...

Image copyright MARVEL COMICS

You may recall me mentioning 'Bob Billens' twice or thrice before on this blog. 'Bob' was a university graduate who tended to think he was far smarter than just about everyone he knew.  I remember once mispronouncing a word and he took immense delight in correcting me.  He was quite an arrogant person now that I think of it, and perhaps he suffered from 'small angry man syndrome' because of his diminished height.  He was a composite of Bob and Terry from The Likely Lads, in that he had Bob's status-seeking aspirations and Terry's verbal aggression.

When he and his wife moved down to England in (I think) the early '80s, we stayed in touch via 'phone calls and 'cassette-a-letters'.  These were cassette tapes containing 'monologues' and music, similar in style to a radio show, wherein we'd inform the other as to what was happening in our respective lives, and intersperse it with some of our favourite songs.  I can't recall which of us it was (unless I listen to his tapes again, which I still have), but one of us included the PAUL McCARTNEY & WINGS song, MAGNETO & TITANIUM MAN on one of our 'shows'.

If he played it, he came on after it ended and said "As you'll probably know, the Crimson Dynamo is DC's character RED TORNADO."  If I played it, that's what he said in his next tape when he responded to mine.  Not that it matters I suppose.  I'd have to check, but I have a sense that Bob might've been home on a visit to his in-laws before I'd had the opportunity to reply to his tape, so I may've told him this in person.  "Actually, he's MARVEL's The Crimson Dynamo, a foe of IRON MAN."

It was clear from the feeble excuses he made that he didn't like being caught out in an error.  "Well, Marvel's your bag, I'm more of a DC fan.  Blah, blah, blah!"  True, I had (good-humouredly) rubbed his face in it, but as he was usually so smug in his assumed superiority, he was begging to be taken down a couple of pegs - so I took him down.  I may not have gone to university, but I'd shown him I knew more about one of his favourite subjects (comicbooks) than he did.  (And I could beat him at arm wrestling, so I was well ahead in points, if not in academic qualifications.  "Kid is big, Kid is strong.")

I'll say one thing for him though - his ego was bigger than mine (and mine's plenty big).  Whether or not his was equalled by actual ability is something I never found out, but I doubt it.  After all, nobody could be that good.  (And, on the off-chance that he might one day read this and dispute its veracity, my trusty solicitors Hunt, Blunt & Cunningham are standing by.)

RIOTOUS REPOST: LIVE & LET PLAY - OVER HERE, ELSIE...

Copyright relevant owner

Blackpool, 1973.  I'm sat on a deckchair next to my parents in the Sun Lounge of the famous North Pier, half-listening to the organist, RAYMOND WALLBANK, and reading the above paperback, when all of a sudden a high-pitched screech pierces the air: "Elsie... ELSIE!  Over here... OVER HERE!  Cooooo-eeeee... ELSIE!"  The voice belonged to an elderly lady sat next to a companion, who was frantically flapping her handkerchief in an attempt to attract the attention of the aforementioned Elsie who'd just arrived.  Thankfully, Elsie heard her friend (as did residents on the far side of Blackpool, I would imagine) and soon took up the designated place beside her. 

"I'm so glad you found Elsie!", quipped Raymond, good-naturedly, at the end of his tune.  Even I, as an uncouth 14 year-old, recognized the woman's bad manners in interrupting the performance to hail her pal, but I soon re-immersed myself in my book.  True, technically, I was perhaps likewise disrespectful in not paying full attention to Raymond, but at least I was unlikely to disturb anyone else's enjoyment while indulging in the object of my literary preoccupation.

Anyway, today I took possession of a replacement of the very book I read 44 years ago, as a 14 year old youth on Blackpool Pier.  I obtained it from AMAZON for a mere penny - 39 pence short of what the book cost brand-new four decades back.  Okay, I paid £2.80 for post and packing, but I'd probably still have had to pay that if the book had cost me a tenner, so let's not get bogged down in mere details.  (Even if I started it.)

If I recall rightly, I'd been to see LIVE & LET DIE not too long before our visit to the famous seaside resort, so the film was still fresh in my mind.  Also, the day before our departure, I'd acquired the 2nd edition CORGI TOYS ASTON MARTIN DB5 diecast spy-car, which I took with me on holiday.  I'd purchased it in one of my local R.S. McCOLL's, and although it was 1973, it was the original '68 model in the blister pack instead of a box.  (Must've been old stock, I guess.  And yes - I managed to replace it some time back.) 

The difference between the newer version of the car and the original 1965 gold-coloured model was that, unlike its predecessor, it was an actual DB5.  The previous incarnation had been rushed into production at the last minute, so existing moulds of a DB4 were swiftly modified and pressed into production.  In 1967/'68, Corgi Toys created completely new tooling, and, as well as being a slightly larger scale, the new car was the correct silver birch colour and sported revolving number-plates and rear tyre-slashers, as well as all three of the original features on the earlier release.

But I digress.  Returning to the book, there are still parts I recall even after all these years: Roger chipping a tooth and requiring root canal work; having to shoot the wedding/motorboat scene again due to a steering mishap; the sign 'TRESPASSERS WILL BE EATEN' being the actual sign of the crocodile farm and not an invention of the film-makers.  I'm not sure whether the book was ever republished, but the copy I received today is a first-printing and in extremely good condition.  Not bad for one 'new' penny, eh?

So, here's to that long-ago holiday in Blackpool, and all the comicbooks purchased back then; the Aston Martin, Roger's book, Elsie and her pals - and last but not least - the cool-as-a-cucumber Mr. Raymond Wallbank, who sadly died in 2010.  He played on the North Pier from 1965 to 1995, a period of 30 years in all.  When I eventually get around to re-reading the book, you can bet your boots I'll have another hearty chuckle at the memory of Raymond's humorous and gentle 'remonstrance' on that sunny July afternoon back in 1973.

******

Incidentally, prior to that day on the North Pier, I'd thought that the cry of "Cooooo-eeeee!" was a word only ever used in films or comics, not in real life.  After all, it wasn't actually a 'real' word used by 'real' people, was it?  Or so I'd thought until that June or July day in Blackpool back in 1973.  As far as I can recall, that was the first, last and only time I've ever heard it being used  - outside, that is, of someone perhaps using it in an affected manner for humorous effect.

******

We returned to Blackpool on holiday the next year, 1974, and that was the last holiday I ever had - never been away since.  My parents returned several times over the decades, and may well have sat on the North Pier listening to Raymond again on quite a few occasions, but I did so only once.  Odd to think that the initial shared family experience was likely repeated, but without my presence.  Strange what passes through one's mind while reminiscing, eh?

    

In memory of Raymond Wallbank - born August 8th, 1932,

  died February 16th, 2010.

******

Above, is a replacement for ny silver birch Aston Martin, which I acquired sometime in the '90s.

DID YOU EMBRACE The DARK SIDE?

Image copyright DC COMICS

When I was a teenager, I pronounced DARKSEID's name as 'Darkseed', not 'Darkside' as JACK KIRBY had intended.  There are accounts of Jack at comic cons in the '70s where kids would refer to 'Darkseed' and Jack didn't correct them, he'd simply pronounce the name the same as they'd done to avoid embarrassing any of his young fans.

All very laudable, but when I eventually learned how the baddie's name was meant to be pronounced, I wondered why Jack hadn't simply spelled the name of the NEW GODS nemesis as 'DARKSYDE', so as to avoid confusion over how to say it.  Okay, perhaps 'Darkseid' looks better in print, but if everyone mispronounces it, it sort of defeats the intention of calling him that to begin with, don'tcha think?  I'm surprised DC didn't ask Jack to change the spelling before Darkseid's debut in JIMMY OLSEN #134.

I think this was one of the problems with Kirby's DC output - he needed someone to rein him in from time to time, and help refine and polish some of his ideas until they were as good as they can be.  An editor like STAN LEE for example, whose input was invaluable on Jack's work over at MARVEL, would have improved the FOURTH WORLD series of mags no end, and they could well have had a far longer run than they actually managed.

That's why it took me a while to warm to Jack's new titles for the Distinguished Competition - the art looked the same as his Marvel mags, but didn't read the same - not to begin with anyway.  It took a while to get used to Kirby's idiosyncratic scripting, and some readers who followed him over to DC didn't stick around after the first few issues because the mags just didn't 'read right'.

That's my take on things anyway.  What think the rest of you Criv-ites?  Why not weigh in with your view in our captivating and occasionally controversial comments section?  Nothing beats a good rammy!