Two comic books from when I loved nothing more
You either have no comic books, one or two you remember, or your life might've drifted wayward, and you read them for a while. God help ya, you probably have ten-at least- you remember.
Now, I won't belabor the changes in pop culture. There's a reason my talk with a co-writer of many stories wriiten for the original Savage She-Hulk series is a touchstone for a new generation to explore. Dwight Zimmerman talked Defenders with us at the Dollar Bill Birthday Global Blockbuster, which you can find in our previous post. It's a lot of fun to get this material down- but don't call it History. I mean, unless you're cool thinking of it that way. It's the Disney Plus TV series that will have many more people talking!
I mean, that's why I can mention The Kingpin, and you might have more than a picture of an oval crimelord with ham-sized fists. That's OK, too, but Vincent D'Onfrio's take on the character? Iconic. He might not have stolen any ancient tablets with his barehands out of a university display, but for Daredevil on Netflix? Just right. Guile, pathos, brutality. That's who he essentially was, when I first met really met him. (The Kingpin, that is.) A mournful melodrama about an estranged son, and Peter Parker, pushing the Stacys away from his secret by portraying Spider-Man to them as -well, the baser view he seems to take of himself.
I could go on, and I could certainly write you a twenty part series about Wilson Fisk, from Amazing Spider-Man #50 to Netflix, excluding the many appearances I would have to make time to read. I'm just not that guy. When I was so painfully uncertain what to say, I took the time to read what I thought were the best comics the 20th century offered. I checked out copious indies from the library. I shied away from expanded universes, because while I understand people having the imagination to write them, I feel I must alway compensate for having my head in the clouds. So, the 20th century Marvel Universe. That was a backyard I could enjoy with others who remembered- it seems, like degrees, comics tend to be read these days by kids whose parents not only did read, but sometimes, still read comics.
But this spring, I accomplished one last pretty good collecting feat, rounding up the one old Iron Man comics I wanted most, and a few issues of Amazing Spider-Man from 1970 and 1971, when creators like Stan Lee, John Romita, even, at times, John Buscema, still turned out a single issue of the exploits of Spider-Man for Marvel, each month.
I will always love MARVEL TALES #66. It is one of the first comic books I bought and protected successfully from myself. I am aware these were made for the same twenty-five cents that might buy a kid a hoard of candy for a nice walk. It was taken n more seriously than that by most adults, too.
This one reprints all but one page of the story from THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN #85, from 1970. I could talk about the story, sure- it is why the snows here in Boulder often reminded me of snowy New York, especially in those pages (most of the drawing was done by Jim Mooney, who would draw Spider-Man well into the years I was the one, now saving not one but two quarters).
But the story just isn't the point. It is not the story John most likely plotted, Jim finished, and Stan scripted. The nature of this 'toy'- the comic- and how playing with it changed my life, and the thrill of being rewarded for my grades for the first time ever? That's the story.
The story of the quarter that bought it, and the world I knew then, and the curiosity that publication piqued in me, in a time when I would examine its every square centimeter to evade boredom.
It's why, old comic books will never be the same, without talking to the man who helped physically in some way produce them for printing. The stories increasing reside with people who are not my friends. That was a nice happenstance, and our bond actually had something not at all about comics, which won us that first long-standing invitation to Screamer Mountain
But it's all right. I finally stepped away from the rapid pace of preparing fandom tribute, and realized, I just don't have to think about that right now. No word back from Dragon Con, which is in September. At least Comic Con's sending us an application ahead of time for some kind of November showcase they plan, which is positive.
It's all been rather dramatic, though peaceable. DAK's been remembered in the New York Times, on PBS- yay, you died of the hot disease of 2021, PRESS! But you earned it. I was saying nice things about you while you were alive! I was ahead of the trend, Dave!
So, honestly, as with the terrific TCJ article, fandom has all that, and my Creating Marvels Podcast, and Onrie's ongoing efforts with their book, Yi Soon Shin, and somehow this all became about my dead friend again And I guess that was a reason I wanted to turn my attention away from comic books more.
The second comic book from these innocent days is Defenders #61. Spider-Man guest stars. My parents picked it out and threw it into a Christmas gift box with 34 others, some intended for my sister to read and share, clearly. Hellcat: I knew she was sexy, whatever that was, and funny, too. I could write about Hellcat, or Lunatik, or Valkyrie in college, or even Nighthawk, a 2-4000 word post, each. The fact that the Incredible Hulk stays at Richmond Riding Academy, hangs out, hears the plan and leaps away tells you what you ought to know about Kraft's nuance. It was in-character for Hulk to think the plan was stupid! But now he's not even in on the effort to catch this vigilante.
There is so much going on in these 17 pages- that's how much story Marvel printed in 1978. J Jonah Jameson appears, with Peter at the Bugle. Little did I realize the scripter had written Jonah before, in stories about his son, John, a.k.a. Man-Wolf. He appeared in a couple of Amazing Spider-Man issues I was given that same Christmas. They utterly abandoned The Dude's character development so they could bring him back under Wolfman. (David could have told me specifically who 'they' was.} I just want to say, that became my favorite comic book. Look, I could certainly go on. But I guess I am feeling something akin to the ticking of mortality, with so many of my own stories unexplored. I am afraid I can only make a self-important analysis, really, but I did play it through and name the first ten comics that altered my path significantly. But there's really one single one left of which to tell. I keep the spirit of who I was in those imaginative times, alive. There are times I let that healthy 'inner child' run my ESL Online classes for a few minutes, because it's time to have fun- to build energy. If I ever have children, I can connect. An inner sense of a happy home allows the transmutation of many sorrows and wonders into meaningful communication. If I told the story of one more, it would be The Official Marvel Index to the Amazing Spider-Man #4, which contained the covers, plots, and tracked the character appearances in Amazing Spider-Man #85-112. I was pleased I had only read the first entry, because that meant I had Spider-Man stories from before I was born, to read for days, to imagine for more. And when I was given the old typewriter, I don't know if I began a successful writing career- but I do know I didn't grow up seeing reading or writing at home, so the entire scenario changed my life.
I could go on: the first Stan Lee/ Steve Ditko original Spider-Man stories I read in Marvel Tales #170-172, my first consistent collection of three issues off the stands in 1984; the shock of watching Spider-Man and Daredevil deal with the Sin-Eater in The Death of Jean de Wolff; Secret Wars, Power Pack #6 (I was basic: almost everything I bought had Spidey), or even that terrible Seige on Avengers Mansion. Or the fun I had, playing David Kraft's character Devil-Slayer (designed with artist Rich Buckler) out past the hickories, lotioned up against the 'skeeters and playing the entire ensemble of my stories until past dark.
I have a fiction story, Drawn Into Adventure, that captures that play. I have a story called "Trash Talk," informed by the 70s comics by Kraft's friends Gerber and Skrenes, and philosophy, and youth culture, and I realize, it's time to get ready. Time for a return to the cool mornings of the Index summers. Even back then, I held a sense of nostalgia for how good a cluster of memories might feel. But this summer's different. I hardly ever need be alone, and society's opening up, right here in the community courtyard. It was that creative conspiracy- which never amounted to anything- that pleasant nerve tingle- that's what these comic books mean.
If I were semi-retired from my main occupation, I might allow myself the diversion and entertain someone of you greatly. But I'm understanding how little time there truly is, and how fast, say, five years can pass. Even if it turns out to be decades untold more, I'm guaranteed not a day of it. Take the inspiration and do something special with it.
I mean, that's why I can mention The Kingpin, and you might have more than a picture of an oval crimelord with ham-sized fists. That's OK, too, but Vincent D'Onfrio's take on the character? Iconic. He might not have stolen any ancient tablets with his barehands out of a university display, but for Daredevil on Netflix? Just right. Guile, pathos, brutality. That's who he essentially was, when I first met really met him. (The Kingpin, that is.) A mournful melodrama about an estranged son, and Peter Parker, pushing the Stacys away from his secret by portraying Spider-Man to them as -well, the baser view he seems to take of himself.
I could go on, and I could certainly write you a twenty part series about Wilson Fisk, from Amazing Spider-Man #50 to Netflix, excluding the many appearances I would have to make time to read. I'm just not that guy. When I was so painfully uncertain what to say, I took the time to read what I thought were the best comics the 20th century offered. I checked out copious indies from the library. I shied away from expanded universes, because while I understand people having the imagination to write them, I feel I must alway compensate for having my head in the clouds. So, the 20th century Marvel Universe. That was a backyard I could enjoy with others who remembered- it seems, like degrees, comics tend to be read these days by kids whose parents not only did read, but sometimes, still read comics.
But this spring, I accomplished one last pretty good collecting feat, rounding up the one old Iron Man comics I wanted most, and a few issues of Amazing Spider-Man from 1970 and 1971, when creators like Stan Lee, John Romita, even, at times, John Buscema, still turned out a single issue of the exploits of Spider-Man for Marvel, each month.
This one reprints all but one page of the story from THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN #85, from 1970. I could talk about the story, sure- it is why the snows here in Boulder often reminded me of snowy New York, especially in those pages (most of the drawing was done by Jim Mooney, who would draw Spider-Man well into the years I was the one, now saving not one but two quarters).
But the story just isn't the point. It is not the story John most likely plotted, Jim finished, and Stan scripted. The nature of this 'toy'- the comic- and how playing with it changed my life, and the thrill of being rewarded for my grades for the first time ever? That's the story.
The story of the quarter that bought it, and the world I knew then, and the curiosity that publication piqued in me, in a time when I would examine its every square centimeter to evade boredom.
It's why, old comic books will never be the same, without talking to the man who helped physically in some way produce them for printing. The stories increasing reside with people who are not my friends. That was a nice happenstance, and our bond actually had something not at all about comics, which won us that first long-standing invitation to Screamer Mountain
But it's all right. I finally stepped away from the rapid pace of preparing fandom tribute, and realized, I just don't have to think about that right now. No word back from Dragon Con, which is in September. At least Comic Con's sending us an application ahead of time for some kind of November showcase they plan, which is positive.
It's all been rather dramatic, though peaceable. DAK's been remembered in the New York Times, on PBS- yay, you died of the hot disease of 2021, PRESS! But you earned it. I was saying nice things about you while you were alive! I was ahead of the trend, Dave!
So, honestly, as with the terrific TCJ article, fandom has all that, and my Creating Marvels Podcast, and Onrie's ongoing efforts with their book, Yi Soon Shin, and somehow this all became about my dead friend again And I guess that was a reason I wanted to turn my attention away from comic books more.
The second comic book from these innocent days is Defenders #61. Spider-Man guest stars. My parents picked it out and threw it into a Christmas gift box with 34 others, some intended for my sister to read and share, clearly. Hellcat: I knew she was sexy, whatever that was, and funny, too. I could write about Hellcat, or Lunatik, or Valkyrie in college, or even Nighthawk, a 2-4000 word post, each. The fact that the Incredible Hulk stays at Richmond Riding Academy, hangs out, hears the plan and leaps away tells you what you ought to know about Kraft's nuance. It was in-character for Hulk to think the plan was stupid! But now he's not even in on the effort to catch this vigilante.
There is so much going on in these 17 pages- that's how much story Marvel printed in 1978. J Jonah Jameson appears, with Peter at the Bugle. Little did I realize the scripter had written Jonah before, in stories about his son, John, a.k.a. Man-Wolf. He appeared in a couple of Amazing Spider-Man issues I was given that same Christmas. They utterly abandoned The Dude's character development so they could bring him back under Wolfman. (David could have told me specifically who 'they' was.} I just want to say, that became my favorite comic book. Look, I could certainly go on. But I guess I am feeling something akin to the ticking of mortality, with so many of my own stories unexplored. I am afraid I can only make a self-important analysis, really, but I did play it through and name the first ten comics that altered my path significantly. But there's really one single one left of which to tell. I keep the spirit of who I was in those imaginative times, alive. There are times I let that healthy 'inner child' run my ESL Online classes for a few minutes, because it's time to have fun- to build energy. If I ever have children, I can connect. An inner sense of a happy home allows the transmutation of many sorrows and wonders into meaningful communication. If I told the story of one more, it would be The Official Marvel Index to the Amazing Spider-Man #4, which contained the covers, plots, and tracked the character appearances in Amazing Spider-Man #85-112. I was pleased I had only read the first entry, because that meant I had Spider-Man stories from before I was born, to read for days, to imagine for more. And when I was given the old typewriter, I don't know if I began a successful writing career- but I do know I didn't grow up seeing reading or writing at home, so the entire scenario changed my life.
I could go on: the first Stan Lee/ Steve Ditko original Spider-Man stories I read in Marvel Tales #170-172, my first consistent collection of three issues off the stands in 1984; the shock of watching Spider-Man and Daredevil deal with the Sin-Eater in The Death of Jean de Wolff; Secret Wars, Power Pack #6 (I was basic: almost everything I bought had Spidey), or even that terrible Seige on Avengers Mansion. Or the fun I had, playing David Kraft's character Devil-Slayer (designed with artist Rich Buckler) out past the hickories, lotioned up against the 'skeeters and playing the entire ensemble of my stories until past dark.
If I were semi-retired from my main occupation, I might allow myself the diversion and entertain someone of you greatly. But I'm understanding how little time there truly is, and how fast, say, five years can pass. Even if it turns out to be decades untold more, I'm guaranteed not a day of it. Take the inspiration and do something special with it.
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