The Brave and the Bold

Folks,

I'm having a bit of trouble catching up with life at the moment. So here's one of my favorite stories I posted some years back on a writing website called Furball Factory. Please enjoy.

DCD

I remember very clearly my first issue of Brave and the Bold. Summer of 1977. I was seven.

That summer, the Air Force decided to move us from San Antonio, Texas to Plattsburgh Air Force Base in upstate New York. My parents made a long road trip of it, stopping to see every conceivable family friend and relative along the way. Mom was pregnant with my baby sister Robyn and not feeling too well. I remember her sitting at the kitchen table at Aunt Betty Knight's, holding her forehead in pain and keeping her eyes squeezed shut. Everyone was trying to leave her alone. I approached to offer her my latest issue of Swamp Thing to read. My logic was that comics always made me feel better when my tummy hurt, so she should give them a try. She quietly thanked me and refused the comic, preferring to handle the pain in her own way. To each their own.

That road trip will forever stick in my mind. My mother had bought enough comics to keep me quiet for the duration of the trip. If it's one thing my parents knew, it was that comics would keep me docile. My mother had a time schedule for 'trip happy' distribution. I would get a comic, my sister would get some puzzle book or picture book or some crappy thing. My sister could take them or leave them. Whatever. But my comics...ahhh what a trip.

At one point, the moment of 'trip happy' distribution came along and Mom was asleep. Curses! I was now counting on my father to remember. I stared intently at the back of his head, too respectful and fearful to mention anything to him. Would he miss the appointed moment? Most assuredly. I'm not even sure he was fully aware we were getting regular 'trip happies'. Although, he must have paid for them. When Mom woke up, she took entirely too long to fully come to her senses. Checking her watch, she turned to Dad and asked if he had given us our 'happies' yet. I answered for him.

My first issue of Brave and the Bold was given to me on this trip. We were entering North Carolina and a couple of hours away from my maternal grandmothers. It was issue 135, Batman meets the Metal Men. I had never heard of the Metal Men, and was eager to learn more. The issue was drawn by Jim Aparo and ended in a cliff hangar. The cliff hangar ending bothered me, but the artwork was fantastic. I believe that was my first Jim Aparo Batman, and he was so graceful and powerful under Mr. Aparo's pencils that I went on to judge other Batman appearances by that look. Beautiful. I was too young to associate an art style with an artists name, but I had long since learned to tell the different art styles apart. I could tell Jim Aparo from Neal Adams from Mike Grell from Dick Dillon when my closest friends couldn't even tell you who the Legion of Super Heroes were. I read the issue. Reread the issue. Flipped through admiring the artwork. Then read the issue again. This was standard operating procedure when I was seven. The issue was perfect.

Except....

That title. What in heaven's name did that title mean? "The Brave and the Bold". I sat quietly trying to figure it out. I had learned many new vocabulary words through comics, and 'Bold' was a new one on me. "Bold". The Brave and the "Bold". What did that word mean?

I finally broke down and asked my father. You can disturb my father when asking about a new vocabulary word. But asking him for new comics, those were waters better left untread.

"Dad, what does "Bold" mean?" I asked.

"Bold means brave." My father is famous for the brevity in his answers.

Oy! What an answer, though! 'Bold' means brave!!?!! This comic was entitled the "Brave and the Brave"?! What the heck did that even mean?

My seven year old brain just had to force this to make sense. What kind of comic company, my favorite no less, would name a comic something as silly as the Brave and the Brave? It just didn't make sense.

I sat thinking for awhile. Trying to prevent the thought that was floating around in my subconscious. Soon, the thought took over and I had to face a startling fact.

Maybe Dad was wrong.

It would make much more sense to title the comic "The Brave and the Cowardly". Meaning, of course, that the brave would beat up the cowardly. Or the brave would protect the cowardly. Anything but the brave would team up with other people who were brave. That just seemed silly! These people were professionals who had been putting out comics for years! I could picture their editors sitting in the conference room talking amongst themselves when suddenly: "Wait a minute, people, bold means brave! What have we done!"

So, maybe Dad was wrong.

I looked at my comic book, as if doing a last minute check of the facts. I looked up at the back of my father's head. I thought to myself: "It would be awfully BOLD of me to ask my father if he could be mistaken."

Naaah, that just didn't sound right.

So which need was greater, maintain the status quo and not question my father...ever. Or get my comic book research and understanding done in the meticulous manner that I had been practicing for the last five years.

"Bold." I said out loud.

"Bold. Bold. Bold." I said again.

I was just about to pounce the question when Mom announced we were nearing Grandmom's house. Eagerly using the distraction to chicken out of my question, I put the comic aside and promptly forgot about my quandary.

An addendum to this story is that it was this same comic that I chose to demonstrate my reading skills to my Grandmother. One of the characters, Tin of the Metal Men, stuttered a lot, and I thought this would be an excellent passage to use to prove how well I could read. All I succeeded in doing was upsetting my Grandmother, who worried that comics were creating a stuttering problem for me. Sigh. Nobody gets me.

A couple of days later, we hit the rode again. Destination? Washington, D.C. to spend July fourth in our nation's capital with the Robertsons. My first 'trip happy'? Aquaman #57. Jim Aparo artwork. Life was good!

Missed Legion Comic of 1982

It was August of 1982 when I made one of my first, clear, comic buying mistakes.

I didn't pick up this:


Which, as all Lifelong Loyal Legion fans know, is a MAJOR issue in which a MAJOR plot twist is revealed:





Instead I picked up this:


And this:


Back then, I only steadily collected four titles. Justice League of America, New Teen Titans, All-Star Squadron, and Legion of Super-Heroes.


My allowance was limited, I was twelve, about to turn thirteen. Steady trips to the comic racks were still a few years off. The two bucks I had clutched in my fist while staring at the comic rack in the Safeway while my mother shopped for groceries was simply not enough. I had to buy the Justice League, and then the All-Star Squadron because they crossed over. And I had to hope that I would get the chance to be back again with more money before the Legion issue sold out.

But then.. much to my chagrin, the next Legion book I saw on the stands was this:


Which blows the reveal from last issue right there on the cover. AND.. to add insult to injury, it was a full dollar! Way out of my price range. I couldn't get that one either.

It wasn't until some years later that I completed the holes in my collection... and my soul. To my great shame. I can only say I read MOST of the Great Darkness Saga off the newsstands when they came out.

Will other Legion fans forgive me?

Thanks,
DCD

Hawkeye

According to my spreadsheet of childhood memories, this was my first Avengers comic book.


It was published in March of 1974. I was four. But I got the comic when we lived on Wayne Drive, which was between Oct 75-Jul 77. So I must have been six or seven when I originally fell in love with it.

It's a reprint of Avengers #23 from 1965. It was my first introduction to the Avengers, and the first time I laid eyes on Hawkeye.


I know him like this:


You might be more familiar with him like this:


At this point, I was already a fan of Green Arrow. And I thought it was cool that Marvel had their own version. And he was purple.


Marvel Triple Action #17 was a reprint book. Reprinting issues of the Avengers from ten years previous. This was probably annoying to most Marvel fans in 1974. But I loved those reprint books. Reading stories of Justice League, Captain Marvel, Captain America, Avengers, and Fantastic Four that were published before I was born is probably what started this fascination I have with the entertainment of decades past.





And I think I have a vague memory of the kid next door in San Antonio, Texas giving me these comics. He was an older kid who loved comics. That's all I remember.


And the comic ended like this:


All Marvel comics had cliffhanger endings. Which no seven-year-old in 1976 appreciated. But I love this panel. Because I had no idea there were other Avengers not in this book and I had no idea who Iron Man and Giant Man were. I knew Thor from this comic, also from 1974:


So this particular cliffhanger ending left me in knots. I never did read that second part. But... I'm getting ready to do a complete re-read of 1960's-1970's Avengers comics. So I'll let you know how it turns out.


Jars! They're in jars! I LOVE that!

Thanks,
DCD

Super Hero Poses

My preferred method of entertainment, comic books, is an extremely visual medium. In fact, it's the essential core concept of the medium. And for decades the adventures of super-heroes were best contained in comic books because it was the only medium that could showcase their adventures with the special effects necessary.

Sometimes I'm caught off guard by how these images can stick with me. Most of all, images from comics I had as a child keep springing to mind.

For instance, the other day I reached for a towel and imagined my arm was stretching like Mr. Fantastic to grab the towel. Afterwards, I wondered why. As I do this kind of thing frequently. The answer is simple:

I was reaching for a towel like Mr Fantastic in Fantastic Four #185, 1977, as drawn by George Perez.


I find myself adopting poses or at least imagining poses from the comics of my childhood quite alot. Such as ring recharging and rhyming like Green Lantern in Green Lantern and Green Arrow #95, 1977, as drawn by Mike Grell.


Or fighting like Captain America from Giant-Size Captain America #1, 1975, as drawn by Jack Kirby.


Or swimming like Aquaman from Aquaman #57, 1977, as drawn by Jim Aparo.


Or size-changing like the Atom from Super Friends #6, 1977 as drawn by Ramona Fradon.


Or running like the Flash from Limited Collector's Edition C-48, 1976, as drawn by Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez.


Or swinging like Spider-Man from Amazing Spider-Man #184, 1978, as drawn by Ross Andru.


Or flying like Superman from Action Comics #459, 1976, as drawn by Curt Swan.


I slipped into a Superman flying pose in my boss's office once. She told me I looked like a football trophy. I was deeply offended.

I was disappointed in college by my course in archery as they did not teach us how to run with our face two inches off the ground while clicking our bow like Green Arrow from Green Lantern Green Arrow #96, 1977, as drawn by Mike Grell.


BUT... how many of you can say you've been on the ground and tried to fire an arrow without arms? I can! Just like Green Arrow from Limited Collector's Edition C-41, 1976, as drawn by Mike Sekowsky.


Comics being what they are, some of the images that pop into my head are a little less conventional and iconic. At several points through the week you might catch me mimicking my face exploding while in a wide-legged stance of awesomeness. Much like Wildfire from Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes #214, 1976, as drawn by Mike Grell.


Sometimes I want to run to my car with flat-fingered, cape swooping running style as evidenced by a certain caped crusader from Batman #290, 1977, as drawn by Mike Grell.


Oddly enough, I'm prone to doing some metal working just like the original Captain Marvel from Limited Collector's Edition C-35, 1975, as drawn by C.C. Beck.


Speaking of Captain Marvel, I can't pass any kind of metal disk on the floor or circle on the pavement without picturing myself tapping it with a foot in order to trap the Human Torch. This is thanks to Marvel's Captain Mar-Vell from Captain Marvel #47, 1976, as drawn by Al Milgrom.


At least I didn't pick up womanizing from Batman Jr (you read that right) from World's Finest Comics #233, 1975, as drawn by Dick Dillin.


Some moments I envision a sense of dramatic tension and urgency. Such as sometimes feeling the need to grab a stick and smack it on the ground with only moments to spare. Thanks to Thor from Marvel Team-Up #26, 1974, as drawn by Jim Mooney.


Or my need to summon the world's greatest super-heroes just like Hawkman did from Justice League of America Tempo books reprints; 1977, as drawn by Dick Dillin.


Back last Spring when I first joined Instagram (as Aquadcd), I tried to encapsulate one of the aspects of having these images floating through my mind all the time. Here's what I wrote: "I still walk around pretending my fingers are a little super-hero running and posing. A strange habit left over from childhood. I was at work one day walking along and my fingers were running and jumping and hero-posing down by my side. I realized that the guy behind me probably thought I was making rude gestures at him. After considering this for a moment, I realized I was okay with it."


So yeah, if you work with me you might occasionally find me springing into an odd pose or two while I think no one's looking. Hopefully it won't be like this one from Super Friends #25, 1975, as drawn by Ramona Fradon.


Thanks,
DCD

Christmas in the 1940's

I've have this odd association between Christmas time and the 1940's. It's hard to say exactly why, or when it started. And I've often wondered if others experience a similar effect.


For awhile, whenever I saw a black and white movie it would make me feel a little Christmasy. And in reading about history, I would wonder how those people and those cultures celebrated that time of the year. It's as if my brain uses the Christmas holiday, or the various variations, as a common ground with which to relate to those other people and other cultures.


The reason I wonder if this feeling is shared or local to my head is that I'm most guilty of doing it with comic books. The Golden Age of comics, from 1938 to about 1953. For the longest time, whenever I read one of these older stories it would feel Christmasy to me even if the story had nothing to do with Christmas.





The reason for this is easily discernible. Christmas reprints. Comic books have a long history of casting their characters in Christmassy settings and situations in the month of December. When I was a boy, two Christmases in a row I got the large Treasury editions of Christmas with the Super-Heroes in my stocking from Santa. I read and re-read and re-read these comics until they were threadbare. They consisted mostly of reprinted stories from the forties. I guess these multiple readings created the association in my head between old comics and Christmas.





The need to relate to people through their celebration of the holiday and the constant presence of super heroes in my life kinda combined in my head. I think the Christmas entertainment I enjoy most is the kind that takes a set of characters that you enjoy year round and showcases them in a Christmas setting. The Christmas episode of Magnum P.I. I always loved the holiday episodes of That 70's Show. The Christmas Jack Benny episodes. And, of course, the Star Wars Christmas special. something that I've never had the bravery or strength of character to get all the way through.






At some point the feeling switched. I started reading and enjoying so much various entertainment from that era that I no longer associated the 1940's with Christmas. But I still associate Christmas with the 1940's.



I think one of the reasons that I associate Christmas with the 1940's and 1950's with Christmas is that it's really a holiday driven by nostalgia. Growing up, we became familiar with the movies and traditions of our parents, who were experiencing the holiday through their own nostalgia. Constantly playing It's a Wonderful Life and listening to Bing Crosby. Even as adults, we've started to overly our own childhood nostalgia onto our kids. How many of you have played Rudolph the Red Nosed reindeer or the Charlie Brown Christmas special for your children? Perhaps when they are our age, they'll associate the holiday with the seventies.



Which is.... awesome.

I got a Space 1999 Eagle ship with figures one year. Nothing's more seventies than that.


In closing, it's time to lay another one of my quirky obsessions down on you. We talked about Christmas comics already. Well, a few years ago I became consumed with the idea of cataloging out the Christmas stories in comics. I started a spreadsheet, natch. And catalogued all the stories I could think of or find in my box of Christmas comics. Then I hit the wonderful Grand Comics Database at www.comics.org and searched for any story title containing "Christmas", "Holiday", or "Santa Claus". I've built quite the least, but it's no where near complete and I'm still finding and adding stories.


Thanks,
DCD