THE WAY THINGS USED TO BE...

Back around 1978, I bought a twirly straw in SAFEWAY.

I've had it ever since, and whenever I look at it, I can't help but

think of how my home town used to be in the '70s.  It also brings

to mind the contingent of pals I used to have, the comics I used to

buy, the TV shows I used to watch, the books I used to read, and

the music I used to listen to.  Not forgetting the movies I used to

go and see.  It also reminds me of how young I used to be.  (I'd

like to be able to say how handsome I used to be, but that'd

be stretching the truth.)  Hey, that's a lot of 'used tos'.

All that from the above twirly straw.  That's pretty amazing,

don't you think?  Have you got one single item that prompts

so many memories?  Please share in the comments section.

BABE OF THE DAY - ELKE SOMMER...

Here's ELKE SOMMER sweeping BOB

HOPE off his feet.  And here I thought she

only had eyes for me.  (The fickle bint!)

WHEN YOU GET TO A BIT THAT MAKES ANY SENSE, GIVE ME A SHOUT...

Why this illustration?  See footnote

Having lived in 7 houses in my life by the time I was 24, and 5 of them while I was still a kid, I've often felt that I've had more than one childhood.  (Due to the fact I associate a separate section of my childhood with each domicile.)  This has prompted me to occasionally wonder if my childhood perhaps feels more varied and eventful than it otherwise would have had I lived in the same abode for all my early years.  I also wonder whether those who only ever lived in one house as a kid had a different perception of time to mine.

However, with the death of ROGER MOORE, I'm now starting to get a sense of what it must be like to have stayed in the same place for any significant period.  That's because I was in my current house when Big Rog was a mere 45 years young and had just taken over the role of JAMES BOND - and now he's departed this mortal vale while I yet inhabit the same domicile I did as a callow 13 year old youth.

Hell's bells, it's gone by in a flash!  Next Wednesday will be 45 years to the very day since my family first moved to this address, but it doesn't seem possible to have been quite that long.  And yet, when I think back to the comics and toys I had as a child, it feels as if I had them for lengthy periods of years and years - and all at the same time.  (Regular readers will be used to my meandering streams of thought by now, but if you're a 'newbie', bear with me as I ramble.)

As you'll know from your own experience though, many of the goodies we had as kids weren't concurrent with each other and never saw the interior of the same toybox or cupboard.  Some we may only have owned for weeks or months, others for a few years at most, but in memory, it seems as if they all cohabited for equal duration.  Our TEDDY BEARS may never have made the acquaintance of our ACTION MEN, yet we recall them as being contemporaries.

Many of the replacements I've acquired over the last 35 years or so of toys, comics, or books of my youth, I've now had for many more years than I ever possessed the originals.  One example is the first issue of the revamped SMASH! from 1969.  I had it for 4 days at the most before selling it on to classmate BILLY MONTGOMERY.  I'd intended to buy another copy before #2 hit the shops, but it was sold out, and over 15 and a half years elapsed before I managed to replace it.  That was 33 years ago, but, incredibly, it doesn't feel like I've had the replacement for any longer than I had the original.

Which brings me on to this.  When I was a kid and got a new toy, there seemed no reason why I wouldn't have it forever.  Children sort of have the impression that they're immortal and that nothing is ever going to change.  Not that they believe so on a conscious level, but the opposite scenario is an absent concept that never really occurs to them.  Or, if it does, it seems like such a far-distant prospect that it's not one to be concerned with until many years in the future - a future that seems centuries away.  That disappears as we age, and there comes a time when we become only all too painfully aware of our limited time on this spinning sphere.

I'm now at the stage where if I buy something now that I'll have for 20 or 30 years, my enjoyment is palled by the knowledge that, even though that span dwarfs any length of time I owned many of my childhood items, it'll still seem like only a mere fraction compared to the illusory lengthy periods of yesteryear.  The fact that I'm now aware (unlike my teenage self) that the clock is counting down, casts a shadow over my pleasure in acquiring a new (or replacement) object, because the illusion of 'forever' is no longer part and parcel of the package.  (Reality can be difficult to deal with.)

Anyway, once more I've indulged in off-the-wall streams of thought which may seem only tenuously connected, but hopefully you can get something worth contemplating out of it all.  Let me know if you do, eh?  It might help me to  better convey what I'm trying to say.  I often feel like I start out on a definite path, but then wander off into the woods on the way and never quite get back on track and complete the journey.  Still, better to travel hopefully than to arrive, as some wise wag once said.  (Robert Louis Stevenson I think.)

******

Footnote:  The DALEK record is an example of what I'm talking about.  I derive such enormous pleasure from simply owning this magnificent item, but it's a bitter-sweet experience because I'm all too aware that, even if I have it for the rest of my (hopefully long) life, it's still going to be all too-brief a time.  Do any of you relate to that at all?

A POWER HOUSE PIN-UP - THE MIGHTY THOR...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

From the back cover of TERRIFIC #6 comes this JACK KIRBY

pin-up of The MIGHTY THOR.  And that's all I really need to say,

isn't it?  Unless, of course, you want me to witter on a bit more and -

what's that?  You don't?  Oh, okay then.  (Mumble, mumble, sulk!)

  

I threw in the cover too.  (Not that you deserve it, you ungrateful lot!)

BABE OF THE DAY - VICTORIA VETRI...

Here's the valiant VICTORIA VETRI

flashing her gnashers at you.  Okay, they're

actually a big dinosaur's gnashers, but they

belong to her now, so why quibble?

45 YEARS AND COUNTING (DOWN?)...

There was a moment in the '70s that I thought would last forever - and me along with it.  However, that moment eventually passed, and any illusions I had of immortality faded like the dying rays of the sun - as perish most of our hopes and dreams before life's fleeting journey has run its course.  I'm reminded of this every time I see yet another part of my past vanish from my life, suddenly and without warning.

On June 14th, which is a Wednesday, it will be 45 years since I first moved into the house in which I currently reside.  However, I've lived here for only 41 years, because 11 years after moving in, we flitted to another home in a different neighbourhood.  Just over 4 years later we returned - and I'll have been back here for precisely 30 years come August 1st.  (The official tenancy commencement date is Tuesday 4th, but we moved in 3 days early on the Saturday.)

Anyway, with the approaching anniversary of having first moved into this abode, I decided to take a trip along to my former neighbourhood, the one from which we moved in 1972.  On the way there, I noticed that 14 trees had been cut down, and when I arrived at my destination, I saw that another couple at the bottom of the street where I'd lived had also been removed.  To my mind, it was like discovering that 16 childhood friends had suddenly expired, and been disposed of before I'd had a chance to pay my respects.

I resent change.  Sometimes I feel as if I no longer live in the town I grew up in, but rather one that bears a bit of a resemblance to it.  It's almost like living in an alternate universe, wherein I spend my time wondering if I'll ever be able to figure out a way to return to my own.  I wish I were The MOLECULE MAN, because then I could revert everything back to how it all used to be.  Once more I'd be able to visit vanished buildings and places I knew as a youth, and feel as if I belonged again, instead of (just like MEL TORME) a stranger in my own home town.

There's a time in life when we feel 'in-sync' with the world, that it's there for us and dances to the same beat that we do.  Then, one day, we suddenly realise that we no longer recognise the tune and that it's best to 'sit this one out'.  It's then we know that 'our' moment has come and gone, and that we've now become spectators, as opposed to the partici- pants we once were.  Other dancers have taken to the floor, and we can only observe and wonder what happened to the melody and lyrics.  For us the dance is over, and willingly or not, we must accept our relegation.

There was a time when I felt at home in this neighbourhood.  It was mine (or, at least, as much mine as anyone's), and I was one of its younger inhabitants, and an inheritor of what the future would bring.  Now, however, I'm one of the rapidly diminishing 'old guard', and a brash, new, fresh contingent of youngsters overrun the place, treating it as their own.  I often find myself feeling like an intruder who's invading their space (much as I feel like they're intruders invading mine), and I realise the gossamer nature of the sense of 'belonging' we humans feel in relation to our surroundings, and just how transient it can be.

Anyway, to be honest, I never really had a clear idea of where I was going with this when I started, and it's now become a bit meandering so I'll draw it to a close.  If it's prompted any thoughts or observations of your own, feel free to record them for posterity in our contemplative comments section.  We may get something worth reading out of this post yet, so don't be shy now.  

BABE OF THE DAY - MICHELLE KEEGAN...

You'll never know how difficult it was for me to squeeze

myself into this bear suit, but it was worth it to be kissed

by magnificent MICHELLE KEEGAN.  Oh yeah!

CRIVENS' CRACKING COMIC COVERS: FANTASTIC #64...

Image copyright MARVEL COMICS

I may have the original MARVEL mag featuring this cover (too

lazy to check), but as I first encountered this tale in FANTASTIC

#64, that's the cover you're getting, Criv-ite chums.  May 1968, eh?

It only seems like a few weeks ago to me at the most.  Time flies

when you're having fun.  (Or throw the clock out the window.)

SECRET ORIGINS COVER & IMAGE GALLERY PART FIVE...

Images copyright DC COMICS

Wow!  It's been five months since the previous post in

this series.  Just where does the time go?  Anyway, here

we are with numbers 12-14 of SECRET ORIGINS from

too many years ago, leaving 'only' 36 issues still to go.

To be honest, a lot of the art in these stories is somewhat

bland, and it gives me a renewed appreciation for just what

a talented visual storyteller JACK KIRBY was in his prime.

The artwork in this series of mags is always professional, but

rarely rises above a competent level and is, for the most

part, uninspired and nothing to shout about.

However, I've started so I'll finish - just so long as you

Criv-ites want me to continue.  Do you remember any of

these comics from back in the day?  If so, then feel free to

share any reminiscences about them in our ever-lovin'

(but recently neglected) comments section.

HER MAJESTY'S SECRET DIAMONDS (OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT)...

The tapes were secondhand when I bought them in '81.
(Or 'pre-played' as they'd be described nowadays)

It was 1981 and I was living down in Southsea.

One day, me and a friend decided to take a stroll into

Fratton, and while we were in a record store, I purchased

two JAMES BOND 007 soundtrack cassettes - ON HER

MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE and DIAMONDS ARE

FOREVER.  Curiously, the tracks on the latter tape were

not in the same order as listed on the index card, but I

put it down to an error and learned to live with it.

11 and a half years later (which was a significant

proportion of my life back then), in '93, HMV opened a

record shop in my local shopping centre, and I bought two

CDs, the same soundtracks mentioned in the previous para-

graph.  Back home later that night, I covered the openings on

the top of the DAF tape, and recorded the tracks in the cor-

rect listed order from the CD.  It's strange just what a sense

of accomplishment I felt doing this, as if I were putting

right some great injustice of many years standing.

It may have taken me nearly a third of my life to

get to hear the tracks on that tape in the right running

order, but it was worth it.  Although I didn't really need to

play the tape because I had the CD, I made a point of doing

so anyway, just so my effort wasn't wasted.  Still got those

two tapes, and whenever I look at them, I'm back in that

record shop in Fratton (JACK's, I think it was called)

and I'm a young man in my early 20s again.

If only it could always be so.

CRIVENS' CRACKING COMIC (ANNUAL) COVERS: FIREBALL XL5...

Here's a belter for you!  MIKE NOBLE's cover to the final FIREBALL

XL5 Annual of the 1960s.  As Mike was considered the XL5 artist from his

strips in TV CENTURY 21, it was only fitting that the series of four books

bowed out with his drawing adorning the cover.  It'd make a great pin-up.

BABE OF THE DAY - BECKY RULE...

There's only one rule you have to

observe when the beautiful BECKY

RULE is around - and that's to be

grateful for her awesomeness.

NO PRICKLY ISSUE FOR BLONDIE AND BEST PAL SMITH...

Saw this in yesterdays's DAILY EXPRESS, thought

you might enjoy seeing it too.  (I'm so considerate.)  Click

to enlarge, then click again for optimum size.

******

This adorable image shows an ultra-rare blond hedge-

hog rescued by an animal hospital.

Blond, or leucistic hedgehogs, have a partial loss of

pigmentation which results in pale colouration of every-

thing other than the eyes.

This particularly cute example, aptly named Blondie, was

brought into Tiggywinkles Wildlife Hospital in Aylesbury,

Buckinghamshire, late last year after wandering around

during the daytime suffering from malnutrition.

Blondie had been born in August and should have weighed

600g but was only a quarter of the size at 165g.

The tiny mammal was rehydrated and given antibiotics

by the centre's nurses.

Soon after arriving at Tiggywinkles, Blondie befriended

a hog named Smith and has gone from strength to strength

and is now fighting fit.

Despite the clean bill of health, Blondie has a weak immune

system and will never be released into the wild.  The unusual

colour would also be an invitation to predators.

Sharon Jacobs, a nurse at Tiggywinkles, said:  "Blondie

was very underweight when we got him and not at all

in a good state.

"Had he been in the wild for much longer there's no

way he would have survived.

"Soon after arriving here he made a friend and things

started to really look up - his health rapidly improved.

"We separated Blondie and Smith when they reached

400g, as you're supposed to do, but Blondie didn't like

that one bit so we put them back together."

By John Ingham. 

THE SAINT'S VOLVO 1800...

It's worth watching this car chase just to see

shots of the streets of London in the '60s.  The

VOLVO 1800 was a cool car - and no ejector

  seat or bulletproof shield in sight.  

BABE OF THE DAY - JORDAN CARVER...

Just off to my local library to use their

photocopier.  It's only an excuse to chat up

JORDAN CARVER, who's working there

during the summer.  What's that, you don't

believe me?  Well, here's the proof - and

remember, photographs don't lie.

RECOMMENDED READING: AURORA MODEL KITS...

Here's a great book which all fans of AURORA models will enjoy.  As

usual, my inherent laziness prevents me from giving you a detailed review

of the contents, but as all the info you need is on the accompanying covers,

I'll let the official spiel speak for itself.  It's available now from all good

comics and book shops - snap up a copy today!

DIAMONDS IN THE SAND...

LIVE & LET DIE TV TEASER...

I AM A ROCK (I AM AN ISLAND)...

BABE OF THE DAY - DALIAH LAVI...

The delightful DALIAH LAVI passed

away last month, aged only 74.  She won't

 ever be forgotten on this blog though.

CRIVENS' CLASSIC COMIC COVERS - THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN #129...

Image copyright MARVEL COMICS

This issue was the first appearance of The PUNISHER

and The JACKAL, so is regarded as a real collectors' item

and worth a few shillings.  Thought you might like to see the

cover, so here it is.  FRANK CASTLE's legs don't look quite

right to me, particularly the left one, so I'd have had them

redrawn.  That apart, it's an effective image.  Like it?

BABE OF THE DAY - AMANDA HOLDEN...

I'm told that AMANDA HOLDEN has

nice eyes.  I'll know for sure when I look

at her face, but that may take a while.

WHAT DOES SILENCE SOUND LIKE...?

BABE OF THE DAY - SAMANTHA FOX...

"For Fox sake!" you might say, in the case

of today's babe, as it's none other than Page 3

sensation SAMANTHA FOX.  (Aw, c'mon -

that intro deserves a round of applause!)

SCHOOLTIME SCANDALS - PART FIFTEEN: THE LITTLE DRUMMOND BOY...

Me and David in primary school in 1967, though the
following tale happened in secondary circa '72/'73

It was in one of the annexed huts at the far end of the school one day that the following event occurred.  The subject was music and this particular hut was used as the 'music hut' on a permanent basis.  As we took our seats, the teacher decided to 'take' the register, and began calling out each pupil's name and ticking them off in turn upon receipt of a "here" in response to the announced appellation.

Jimmy Riddle - "here".  Billy Bigballs - "here".  Johnny Jumpstart - "here".  And so it went, until she got to DAVID DRUMMOND's name.  Now, I should mention that David was a quiet, studious boy, who never got into any kind of trouble as far as I was aware.  The teacher must have known this, so her reaction to what happened next was completely unjustified in regard to poor Davey.

When she called his name - David Drummond - David replied "here", but he wasn't the only pupil to do so.  As his "here" ended, suddenly another one sounded from somewhere in the room - "here" - and then another - and another - until it was echoing all around the class.  It went like this - David Drummond - "here", "here", "here", "here", "here", "here" - about a dozen or more times from various points of the room in a 'living stereo surround- sound' effect that was truly impressive.

Teacher was furious.  "Drummond - you're the ringleader - get out here now!"  Bewildered, Davey trudged out to her desk, whereupon, if I recall correctly, she belted him with the tawse and sent him back to his seat in abject shame for something he hadn't done.  Naturally, we felt bad for him - his fate was utterly undeserved - but it'd been funny to hear the word "here" bounce around the room and to see the teacher take an apoplectic fit over it, even if she had belted an innocent boy.

I thought the result of each individual "here" in close succession to one another sounded extremely musical - very King's Singers in effect, so I'm not sure why Teacher reacted in the way she did.  You'd think she'd have been proud of our daring initiative in forming a class 'band' - even if it was only for a short, one-off performance.

Teachers, eh?!  I just hope David can look back and laugh about it now.  It was a classic moment that deserves to be remembered, though I guess you had to actually be there to appreciate it in the same way that I do.  (Which I probably wouldn't had I been the one belted.)