One Step Beyond

Had a chance to read Superman Beyond #0 tonight (it goes on sale tomorrow), and I was thoroughly taken with the oneshot. Tom DeFalco, Ron Frenz, and Sal Buscema (the team who produced all those great Spider-Girl near-future tales over at Marvel) have done a wonderful job of exploring the future DCU as seen in the pages of Batman Beyond. This story explores Superman's role in this universe--a retired Superman who comes back out of retirement to confront a menace in a manner that is pure Superman. DeFalco may not be a DC writer per se, but he gets Superman--he understands who the character is, how he functions, and what he believes in, and DeFalco manages to convey that in this well-structured oneshot tale. We also get a look into the relationship of Superman and the original Batman in the last pages of this issue, and it's a nice wrap-up to a very satisfying story.

Frenz and Buscema may lack the flash and fine linework of any of a dozen fan-favorites, but these guys know how to tell a story. They convey action in a clear and distinct manner, they communicate emotion, and at no point is the reader visually confused by poor visual design. And their characters actually look the same from one panel to the next; you'd think this would be a requirement for comic book artists, but pick up the average comic today and notice how few artists can actually maintain a uniformity of appearance throughout the entire issue!

If you're looking for a solid, well-constructed Superman story, you could do a lot worse than Superman Beyond... in fact, a lot of writers working on mainstream DCU Superman tales today could take some notes from the pages of this oneshot.

Turbulent Economic Times

The economy continues to take its toll on comic shops. Late last month we learned that a local comic shop was closing its doors at the end of August. A week after that we learned that another local shop is struggling but hopes to straighten things out. Then I heard this evening that an Arizona comic shop owned by someone I've gotten to know through a comics retailer forum may be closing as well. (And no, I'm not going to name specific shops--it's not fair to them, since in some cases those shops may prefer to notify their customers on their own schedule... and if a shop is struggling, the dissemination of that information can make the situation even worse.)

There's no doubt that economic turbulence impacts entertainment media like comics; the old saw that comics were recession-proof has proven to be totally untrue. I've seen friends who've been in the business for decades forced to close down stores that I thought were too well established to fail. We've seen customers forced to cut back or curtail comics buying because of job losses.

It's not just comic shops, of course. Every small business is facing the same turbulence; some are better positioned to succeed than others, but a few months of severe setbacks can put a strain on any business.

I hate to hear about a comic shop closing; not only does it put friends and acquaintances out of work, but it also means that a certain number of comic book readers just disappear. Even if there are other shops in the immediate area, some readers don't migrate elsewhere--it's a phenomenon we've seen again and again.

I've said a few times that every business has a lifespan; nevertheless, I feel that the current economic climate is killing some businesses before their time. We're very fortunate to have a loyal clientele to carry us through turbulent times; I'd hate to think how challenging it must be for a newer shop that hasn't had a third of a century to build its clientele and inventory.

Garden of Forking Paths

Jorge Luis Borges' story "The Garden of Forking Paths" has always been a favorite of mine; Borges packs an alternate-realities tale, a mystery, a puzzle, and an adventure story into a very concise package, and each time I re-read the tale, a different aspect seems to rise into prominence. Because of my predilection to alternate-realities stories, however, that's the part that I always remember the most. The main character postulates that life is an infinite series of forking paths, and each time we take a different fork, we create a new reality... but there are nevertheless realities in which we took the other path instead, leading to an all new series of forking paths on their own.

Ever wonder about your life's own forking paths? I recognize many incidents in my life that seemed uneventful at the time, but each of which led to major changes in the direction of my life. What if I had asked my parents to buy me comic books prior to my tonsilectomy; would I have ever become so involved in the medium that helped to redefine my life? What if I had never paid any attention to that ad for a fanzine; would I have ever become involved in fan writing, which paved the way for Comic Shop News? What if I had never bought that issue of Batman and noticed a letter of comment from a high school girl in Cedartown, Georgia; I would have never contacted her, and thus I might have never met my future wife. As a result, I might not have gotten married right away; had I not done so, would I have continued to pursue my future as an artist rather than a writer? Would I have ever become a teacher?

Were Susan and I not married, would I have ever moved to Marietta? After all, we made the move because Susan had gotten a job in data processing in the Lenox Square area, and Marietta seemed like a midpoint between my Rome job and her Atlanta job. Had I not moved to Marietta, I would have never worked with Benny at Book Trader, and later with Artie at Dr. No's, helping them order comics. Had I not done that, I would have never have had the opportunity to buy Dr. No's; then, years later, I would not have produced a store newsletter that metamorphosed into Comic Shop News.

Were I not to move to Marietta, I would have never have become involved in Atlanta SF fandom, and I would have never met my long-time friend and business partner, Ward Batty. I might have instead spent my years in Rome, making a home there; perhaps I would have gone into teaching, perhaps not.

What if, instead of selling our Rome farmhouse/weekend retreat in 1999, we had kept it? Then I would have been there the weekend I had my heart attack, at least twenty minutes away from medical assistance... at which point I would have been permanently dead rather than temporarily.

So many pivotal moments, so many forking paths. Is there, somewhere, a me who took the other fork at each of these moments? How did his life progress? Does he in turn wonder about the other forks he might have taken, and how it would have altered his future?

Comicollecting

Today I received another batch of Rocket's Blast Comicollector, the comics fanzine/adzine that had been such a vital part of my movement into fandom in the 1960s. I now have #s 43-61 (the entire run to which I originally subscribed) with the exception of #54, a Wally Wood-cover issue that can only be found for an exorbitant price on eBay. While the collector part of me would like to have it to complete the run, the practical part of me said that there's no way I need to spend $60 on a little bit of nostalgia.

It's fascinating to go through these adzines again--not only because I get to remember the excitement I felt when I looked at these ads originally, but also because every article in each of these issues is virtually burned into my mind. I must have read and re-read each RBCC a dozen times while waiting for the next issue to arrive. There are great articles in here chronicling the early development of fandom and the growth of comics as a major part of popular culture; among those whose work is represented in here are Mike Kaluta, Bernie Wrightson, Jim Jones, Roy Thomas, Jerry Bails, Vaughn Bode, Jim Starlin... the list goes on and on, and it's fascinating to see these major talents represented so early in their careers.

The ads are always intriguing, of course; every page is a wistful look at what I should have bought, had I been able to afford it.

(Since I don't have #54, I'm presenting the other Wally Wood cover, the one he did for RBCC #56, depicting Daredevil tossing Dynamo off a skyscraper under construction. Alas, it turned out to be an all too accurate metaphor for the fate of Tower Comics in the towering shadow of Marvel a few years later...)

The Sum of All We Are

I'll never be one of those who say that family and genetics is entirely responsible for who we are and what we become—but I know it's a factor in my life, and it's one that I appreciate more and more with each passing year.

Earlier this week, my Aunt Carolyn passed away at the age of 72. I found myself wishing I had been closer to her in recent years; I also found myself remembering Carolyn and Uncle Jerry at my grandparents' house when I was much younger, and that led to other memories of family. Holiday gatherings, family get-togethers, Sunday dinners, casual conversations with adults, time spent with cousins... there are so many interrelated memories that rise to the surface at times like this.

When Susan and I went to the family visitation at the funeral home tonight, I had a chance to see Aunt Barbara and her daughter Pam; Jerry, Tammy, and Kathy; and Donna, Martha, and Paul. They're also my aunts and uncle, but I can never think of them as such because we're very close in age (Martha is barely older than me, and Donna and Paul are both younger). They're much more like cousins; we played together as children, we shared summer nights at my granparents' house when I'd stay there for the summer--and as Martha reminded me tonight, we even took baths together when we were young children! You see, my grandmother hated to waste bathwater for three individual kids when we'd all fit in one tub--but she did insist that we wear our underwear in the tub, just for propriety's sake!

Aunt Barbara is a wonder; she's the sort of person you feel close to immediately, and as you talk to her, you want to hear more about her life, her memories, the things that matter to her. She's inspirational in so many ways. And I particularly love hearing Barbara tell us stories of her life because she was so close to my father when they were younger. She is a link to my heritage, and she knows things that I could never know unless she shared them with me.

Because I hadn't seen Carolyn in a while, I wasn't sure how I'd feel when I saw her at the funeral home. When I did see her, though, tears welled in my eyes; this was a soul whose life had touched mine, and I realized that she had lived her life and had left it behind. I felt the loss very vividly, and I felt for her family who had lost her.

I looked at Carolyn's face in her repose and saw aspects of grandmother and granddad and my own father. I see similar aspects in Donna, and in Martha, and in Barbara, and in Paul. They carry the heritage of their parents and their siblings in the contours of their face, in the wrinkles of their eyes, in the bend of their smile, in so many little ways. They truly are a part of me in ways both visible and intangible.

They ended up gently urging us to leave the funeral home a while after the visitation should have ended; had they not, we might still be there, sharing stories and reminiscing and discussing where life has taken each of us (Donna and Tommy, for isntance, have followed a life path that has uncanny parallels with the path that my and Susan's lives have taken--the more we talked, the more surprised I was to learn that we had each made so many of the same decisions and made them come about in so many of the same manners). I'm sure, though, that the people who run the funeral home had their own families they wanted to get home to...

Fickle Fans

On one of the forums that I frequent, there's been some discussion of a very negative advance review of the upcoming Conan film. Most of the responses have been along the lines of "I knew this one was going to be bad," or "I never had any expectations that this film would be good," or "this is just what I expected," or "based on the trailer, I didn't expect anything more."

Problem is, a lot of these same fans were saying something quite different a month ago. "What a great Conan trailer!" "Can't wait to see this!" "Looks like they've finally done Conan right!"

I don't know if a lot of fans are so gullible that their opinions are swayed by what they're reading at the time, or if they're succumbing to the internet tendency towards schadenfreude--an eagerness to see the misery or failure of others. Either way, it makes me aware of what a fickle bunch it is that so many filmmakers and television series producers spend so much time courting...

Back to School Ritual

Yesterday, Cobb County started back to school--and as I've done every year since I retired from teaching, I got up early so that I could get in a morning walk while the kids were at the bus stops for the first day of school. Since Cobb County staggers the start time for elementary, high school, and middle school in order to utilize the same buses for all three runs, I ended up taking a long, leisurely walk so that I could observe both the elementary and the high school students (I didn't feel like stretching my walk out to see the middle school students as well--because, to be honest, I find "middle school" and "student" to be an oxymoron anyway).

It's always interesting to watch the first-day reactions. There will always be one elementary school student crying because he doesn't want to go to school; there will always be one or two parents who'd made posters for their kids to mark the first day of their school year; there will be some kids very excited to get on the bus; there will be some who look positively dejected; and of course, there will be some with a "deer in the headlights" expression, wondering just how the first day of school got here so very quickly. I saw all of those yesterday, along with a lot more parents than are typically found at the bus stops; the first day of school is sort of a family event, with everyone gathering to make sure the year starts off right. Give 'em a few weeks, and a lot of those parents won't be making the hike from the house to the bus stop--but there are always a few parents who make sure that the kids get off to school safely.

This year the weather chose to be kind; for the first time that I can recall, our morning temperature on the first day of school was 64°--and that's most definitely not a typical August low in Georgia. It reminded me once again why I never thought that starting school on August 1st was a good idea; those school systems that did had to work through extreme heat, burdensome humidity, un-air-conditioned buses, and the inevitable non-functional school HVAC systems. Georgia just doesn't have the proper weather for an early August school start; Georgia's typical hottest period will occur at the end of July and the first week or so of August. For almost the entire time I taught, we brought kids into the classroom on the third week of August, more or less, and I found that to be much more tolerable.

(I also never had a problem with a semester that ended after the Christmas holidays, but now there are some who push for an early start so they can wrap up the first semester before the holidays. I figure that if a kid has learned the subject matter so poorly that they forget most of it in a two-week holiday, then they didn't really learn it at all--and if a teacher's final exams focus on such minutia that the test seems more like a trivia quiz designed to stump the student, then they've missed the whole point of a final exam anyway.)

A Family Loss

My aunt Carolyn died this morning; from what I've been told, she passed away in her sleep, and the family found her this morning.

I know very little about the cause of her death, but I know she suffered from many of the same health problems that plagued Dad during his last few years. I am thankful that she at least was able to pass peacefully in her sleep rather than living her final days in pain. It is probably the most gracious passing any of us could hope for.

But I still find myself thinking that the world seems a little emptier with each family loss. One by one, it seems that many of the family members I remember with such love from my youth have left this world, and the vacancy they leave is never really filled. John Donne said that every man's death diminishes me; that is all the more true for family, because with their passing we realize that a part of what made us what we are is lost.

I won't mislead you and claim that Carolyn and I had remained close; alas, I am all too guilty of getting so wrapped up in my own world that I don't maintain the contact with family that I should. Facebook and other social media help, but none of that can replace a conversation, a little time spent together. Now I'll never have that chance.

Jet's Soars

A few days ago, I detailed my disappointment with the pizza we got at the new Jet's Pizza location that opened in my neighborhood (on Shallowford, near the intersection with Johnson's Ferry, in the Publix Shopping Center, for those of you who'd like to try it for yourself).

Well, the manager of that location, Casey, read my comments and immediately got in touch with me. He was most concerned that I hadn't gotten a pizza that was up to Jet's standards, and he said that what I had described in my blog post was most definitely not what a Jet's Pizza should be. He added that one of the people on his team worked at a Mellow Mushroom in the past. "If you got more on your Mellow Mushroom pizza than you got here, we did it wrong," he said. So he asked if I'd be willing to try his location again. I was quite impressed by his demeanor and his pride in the pizzas that his restaurant produces, so I was quite eager to give it a second shot.

Tonight Susan and I tried another Jet's Ten deep-dish pizza, and Casey threw in a pepperoni deep-dish pizza so that we could see the differences in a single-ingredient and a loaded pizza. "We do put a little less cheese on the Jet's Ten pizza, so that it'll cook right," he said, "but it's very, very little difference, and you really shouldn't be able to notice it."

Then he said something that really impressed me: "I watched them make your pizza to Jet's specifications, so that I was sure it was made right." Anyone could have made one pizza that was loaded with extra toppings and extra cheese, but that would only have led to disappointment down the line when the next pizza didn't measure up to the one we got tonight. Instead, Casey made sure that the pizza we got was exactly what every Jet's pizza should be--and that tells me that he is very proud of his store and the franchise. So I was eager to get it home and try both the Jet's Ten and the pepperoni deep-dish.

Both pizzas were impeccable. The crust, crisp on the bottom with a little crunch and a lot of flavor, was well-cooked throughout--no doughiness, none of the heaviness that so often passes for deep-dish pizza around here. The ingredients--including the cheese and sauce--were plentiful and flavorful; I got an abundant variety of toppings in every bite, and the meats and the vegetables were fresh and distinctive.

The pepperoni pizza was a real surprise. I rarely care for single-ingredient pizzas, but the this was an exception. The pepperoni was based to a savory crispness, which perfectly accented the toasted, slightly stringy mozzarella (just the way a real mozzarella should be) and the baked-to-perfection crust.

I have to retract my earlier dismissal of Jet's. By making a pizza to Jet's standards, Casey has proven to me that I can expect this sort of quality in the future--and that means that Jet's is on our regular pizza rotation.

Furthermore, I can't say enough about what an asset a manager like Casey can be to any team. He saw a problem, addressed it, found a solution, and made it clear that he had absolute confidence that his company's food was as good as any other pizza out there... and then he proved it! Managers like Casey are all too rare--Jet's should be glad to have him representing them.

A-List Creators and B-List Publishers

Steve Ditko has always been enigmatic; in his prime, he was one of the most skilled illustrators and storytellers in comics, a star at Marvel Comics whose genius gave them their most famous hero, Spider-Man (certainly, Stan Lee was involved in the creation as well, but a look at Ditko's body of work makes it clear that a lot of what made Spidey a success came from Ditko); however, at almost the same time he was doing some of his best work at Marvel, he was also working for far less money at Charlton Comics, the industry equivalent of a movie B-studio.

This is the equivalent of a big box-office movie star leaving the major studios to work for a low-budget independent. While it's not unheard-of, it's certainly uncommon. But Ditko always valued respect, autonomy, and creative freedom--apparently more than money. While Charlton was always short on the latter, they apparently made up for it by letting Ditko do what he wanted with minimal editorial involvement.

After Ditko's stellar years at Marvel, he worked for Charlton for a while, creating his iconic objectivist hero The Question and rebooting Captain Atom, among other things. He left Charlton for a short while to work with DC, but the arrangement fell apart, and soon thereafter, Ditko was back at Charlton again.

Ditko's fans know his early work at Charlton, his Marvel years, his superhero time at Charlton, and his brief run at DC... but his 1970s work at Charlton is largely overlooked. Certainly, it's not as artistically appealing as his early 1960s work; by the 1970s, Ditko was generally inking with a pen, using brush very little if at all, and the result was a very even line that clarified the art, but rarely enhanced it. Even so, it's obvious from reading these stories that Ditko was doing something he enjoyed. These tales were often reminiscent of his pre-hero Marvel work (although writer Joe Gill and the other scripters of the stories--perhaps Ditko himself in some cases--lacked the Serling-esque storytelling skills of Stan Lee's collaborations with Ditko), and were always illustrated with great skill and finesse. Even later-period Ditko is better than a lot of the best work from other creators.

I've recently been reading through a heaping helping of Charlton 70s mystery-suspense-supernatural comics, and I've really come to appreciate what Charlton did. Working with a minimal budget, they managed to get great work from Ditko, Gill, Pete Morisi, Sanho Kim, Wayne Howard, Joe Staton, Pat Boyette, and many other talented creators. There must have been something to be said for Charlton as an employer--they managed to keep some top talent working for them for years when many of them could have sold their talents elsewhere.

That's what's missing from the comics field today--there are no mass-market mainstream B-level publishers producing quality material in a professional package targeted not to the collector, but to the mass market reader. While Marvel, DC, and a few key independent publishers get a lot of attention when talk turns to the later years of the Silver Age and the Bronze Age, I think that publishers like Charlton, with their full line of genre comics (war, romance, racing, martial arts, horror/mystery, and humor) are underappreciated. The fact that we see so many Charltons in late 60s and 1970s collections indicates that they had a strong market presence, even if all too few fans gave their work any respect.