Anything Goes

Facebook Follies

2012-01-30T15:00:00.001-05:00

Because of my career in the comic book industry, a great number of fans have friended me on Facebook. Add in the number of relatives, friends, and acquaintances I actually know and the result is a "News Feed" that is being updated almost constantly. After all, in a sampling of 1300+ people, somebody almost always has something to say.

Some of the postings are amusing, some are informative, some are innocuous. And then there are the ones that make me wonder, "What are you thinking?!" People who are having problems with their spouses (or significant others, family members, or colleagues) really need to think twice before posting comments on Facebook about them.

Would they hang a sign on the bulletin board at work that proclaims, "My ex-husband doesn't make child support payments"? Or get up in a restaurant and announce, "My sister-in-law is a drunk"? Why, then, post such things on Facebook where I and all the rest of their "friends" can see it?

**

Speaking of Facebook and such, I must confess to having become addicted to playing Words With Friends. I have about twenty different games going at the moment, playing against relatives, friends, comic book pros and fans, and CTY colleagues.

While most of the games are just fun, a couple of opponents and I have raised the bar. Before each move, we consider what "triples" we could be opening up to be used against us, where to place high-score letters like the Z and the Q so they can't be used in another word, etc. Most of these games go down to the very last move before the winner is decided and no lead is ever safe. Indeed, even after I scored 141 points on a single word, I wasn't sure I'd win till we were finished.

[A note to all my Facebook friends: My playing Words With Friends should not be used as a reason to invite me to play Farmville, Cityville, Castleville, Mafiaviille, Zoomingcarsville, or other games of that sort.]

**

Finally, speaking of Facebook invitations and all the comic book fans I have as friends, it is a virtual certainty that I will not be attending sales, signings and other events at your local comic shop in California, Iowa, Toronto, England, Australia, and so many other places around the globe. Chances are that most of the 1400 other people you've invited will also not be showing up. How about spending just a little time creating a sub-list of your friends who might actually be in the neighborhood?

In the News...

2012-01-25T12:11:00.001-05:00

A Georgia judge has ordered President Obama to appear at a "birther" hearing on Thursday to provide testimony about his qualifications to be on the ballot in the presidential primary. This latest nonsensical case is apparently being spearheaded by Orly Taitz, who has been involved in a number of similar cases. Ms. Taitz, a lawyer and dentist from California, is quoted as saying that this hearing would be "100 times bigger than Watergate."
According to Wikipedia, Ms. Taitz has been involved in a number of similar "birther" lawsuits regarding the President's eligibility for office. All previous ones have been dismissed, including one in which she was fined $20,000 for misconduct. Among her other claims is that the President is having FEMA build internment camps for anti-Obama dissidents.

Ms. Taitz was born in Moldava in the Soviet Union. emigrated to Israel and then to the U.S. Rather than allowing her to continue to question the President's citizenship, perhaps she should be ordered to investigate why she was let into this country and allowed to become a naturalized citizen.

And what's the story with the judge? Does he really think that the case has merit or is he just looking for his fifteen minutes of fame by ordering the President to appear in his court?

**

In other news today, a 72-year-old USPS employee in Texas has been suspended after it was discovered she has been hoarding truckloads of stolen junk mail. She has stolen so much of it that she apparently rented storage units to keep it in.
"This is a hoarding problem," the woman explained. "People can have mental issues... it doesn't make them insane. It makes them stupid." Um, sure.
There was no word about whether the USPS would be delivering all the mail. Or if anyone had complained about not getting their entry form for the Publisher's Reading House sweepstakes.

**

It has been reported that Carnival Corporation, owner of the Costa Concordia (as well as Cunard, Holland-America, Princess, and half a dozen smaller cruise lines), has announced that they issue refunds to all the passengers. In addition, they will offer them a 30% discount on future cruises.

30%? Really?

Fudge Man Day

2012-01-21T13:30:00.000-05:00

Long-time readers of this blog may recall my entry about John Roach, a.k.a. "the Fudge Man," one of the regular platelet donors who had passed away. Last January, as a tribute to him, a number of us donated on a Saturday morning, joined by John's sister Marie, who brought with her some of the famous fudge. As a result, NY Blood Services even created a donation group in memory of John.

Today we made the tribute into a tradition by having the second annual Fudge Man Day at the Blood Center. The regulars were in attendance, once again joined by Marie, with some excellent mint chocolate fudge. She also brought calendar magnets for all of us to commemorate the occasion.

Despite the snowy sleety weather this morning, we had a full contingent of the regulars. (I, unfortunately, was deferred from donating today because of a recent vaccination, but I'll be back in mid-February.)

We sat for a couple of hours swapping stories. Marie told us about some of the odd varieties of fudge John had brought home; the only one she refused to try was garlic-flavored. Jalapeno fudge apparently is popular, but garlic fudge, not so much.

John would have turned fifty last week and his family and friends got together last week and celebrated in his honor. We, his Saturday Morning at the Blood Center pals, were happy to be able to salute him as well and look forward to Fudge Man Day again next year.

Why Johnny Needs to be in School More

2012-01-16T12:00:00.000-05:00

We were on a cruise over the New Year's weekend and into the first week in January. While there were mostly older couples and families with pre-school-aged children, there were also a number of families with children who were obviously missing a few days of school.

One evening I was sitting in the ship library reading when three teenagers -- two girls and a boy -- came in and started talking. One of the girls said, "I don't get this. How come took two days to get to Florida but only one day to get to the Bahamas? That's out of the country!"

To which the boy responded, "I don't know. I'm not very good at history."

Class? Cruise? Which one do you think would better benefit these future burger-dining facilitators?

Fifty Years Later

2011-12-27T14:44:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Facebook, I have recently been in contact with Wendy, a woman who was in my fifth grade class at Belmont Boulevard School way back in the 1961-62 school year. We had not seen nor heard from one another since the end of sixth grade, when, due to the way the district was set up, I (and a very few classmates) moved on to Elmont Memorial while the rest of the class went on to Alva T. Stanforth JHS and then Sewanhaka HS.

Among the photos on Wendy's page is the one above, with many members of the class and our teacher, Miss Carroll. (That's yours truly second from the left in the top row, wearing the very fashionable bolo tie.) Fifty years after it was taken, it's not easy to put names to the faces, though I find I remember one or two more each time I look at the photo.

I was only in Belmont Boulevard for fifth and sixth grade.My kindegarten through fourth grade years were spent in Elmont Road School, the smallest building in the district, but also the closest to my home. As a result, I was a "newcomer" in fifth grade, among students who had already been together for half a decade and in spite of this (or, perhaps, because of it), I was elected president of our class.

Memories are fuzzy now, but at one point during the year, some of my classmates wanted to "impeach" me. I remember Miss Carroll sending me out of the room on an errand so that she could discuss this with the rest of the class. She sent me to another classroom with a note, where the teacher kept me waiting for about fifteen minutes and then handed me a stapler to bring back to Miss Carroll. I certainly hope neither teacher thought I was fooled about why I was being sent out of the classroom, especially after Miss Carroll took the stapler I'd brought back and put it on her desk right next to her own stapler. In any case, after the class meeting that took place in my absence, there was no more talk about my being "removed from office."

I have no idea where any of the other members of the class are, what they've done in the ensuing half-century, or if our lives have intersected along the way. But Facebook is an amazing thing, so who knows when the next classmate will turn up?

The Secret History of AA Comics

2011-12-15T13:20:00.000-05:00

Shameless Plug Department: The Secret History of AA Comics is now available in trade paperback form at lulu.com. You can order a copy by clicking on the link in the column on the right.

This alternate history of the comic book business -- in which M.C. Gaines bought out the owners of DC Comics, Green Lantern and The Flash were the premier heroes, and Superman and Batman were reimagined to start the Silver Age -- appeared in somewhat different form in issues of Alter Ego and Back Issue. There is additional text material as well as new artwork included in this version.

Publishing and the Booksellers

2011-12-14T11:29:00.000-05:00

It's no secret that the publishing business has been in trouble for a long time. Just last week, McGraw-Hill announced that some 550 people would be losing their jobs. Of the many people Laurie has dealt with in her long career as a writer, very few are still gainfully employed in the publishing business. Book packagers and publishing companies have closed up shop as their work dwindles down to nothing.

One of my close friends, a printer his entire life, closed his family-owned printing company more than a decade ago and went to work as a sales rep for another printing company. That company was bought out by another printer and was then sold to yet another firm. He retired this year and is quite happy that he no longer has to deal with the daily grind of pursuing printing work in an ever-shrinking market.

In the comic book business, sales have been steadily dropping since a peak in the mid-1990s. Unit sales that fifteen years ago would have been considered too low and grounds for cancelling a title are now hailed as best-seller numbers.

Bookstores have been victims of this as well. Local book shops succumbed to the big-store chains like Borders and Barnes & Noble, which in turn were undersold by Amazon. Borders is now gone, leaving B&N as pretty much the only brick-and-mortar franchise left.

But you have to wonder how much longer they will be around when you see their current TV commercial. It features Jane Lynch of "Glee" fame and a crew of B&N "staff" singing about how you should come into the store and buy a Nook. Of course, once you buy one, you never have to go into the store again because you can then order all your books (and plenty more) as downloads!

While you're there, wish the salesperson good luck in his or her new career outside the bookselling business.

Another Saturday Morning at the Blood Center

2011-12-03T12:36:00.001-05:00

One of the ways that Long Island Blood Services recognizes regular donors is with the two posters listing everyone who has made more than 75 lifetime platelet donations. Those with 75-99 or 100-149 -- and there are hundreds of them -- are on one poster. Those with 150 or more are on the other, which we've laughingly called the "Big Board."

Last Saturday. a few of us regulars were sitting in the canteen and discussing where we were on the posters. Deb, the appointment coordinator, started to laugh and said, "It's always the guys who know exactly where they are and how many more donations they need to move to the next group." I can't speak for all "the guys," but those of us who were present agreed. Steve, who is just shy of 150, has calculated that he will move to the Big Board when it is updated next September. Tom knew exactly where he stood. And I know I have a chance of jumping from the 150-199 group to 200-249 if I find enough Saturdays in the next ten months.

This morning another of the regulars was happy to see that he had made it to the Big Board. He mentioned that he thought there were more categories this year and I pointed out the lone man in the 350+ category. Deb has mentioned that the man is 80 years old and continues to donate regularly; clearly, he is the gold standard we are all striving for.

As I was sitting there, I did a little math. The 142 people on the Big Board have, at a minimum, made 23,000 platelet donations! That does not take into account the "doubles" and "triples" done in a single donation -- some donors are just so chock full of platelets that they can give extra.

I've mentioned it before, but it's worth repeating: There is no artificial substitute that can be used, yet only 2% of the population donates. If you donate, even just once or twice a year, great! If you never have, please consider trying. Regardless of whether the donor is a long-time regular or a first-timer, every pint of blood and unit of platelets makes a difference in someone's life.

And donating is a great excuse for eating Lorna Doones for breakfast.

News of the Day

2011-12-01T14:12:00.002-05:00

What is probably the best copy of Action Comics #1, the 1938 comic book that featured the debut of Superman, has sold at auction in Philadelphia for $2.16 million. Though the identities of the buyer and the seller are being kept secret, it is apparently the copy that was stolen from Nicolas Cage back in 2000.
After being off the radar for more than a decade, the book was discovered in an abandoned storage shed in California last April.

This particular copy has been auctioned twice before. In 1992, it sold for $86,000 and was resold in 1997 for $150,000. Each time, it was the highest-priced comic ever sold, a record it has now achieved for the third time.

Most articles about the sale include the factoid that there are only about 100 copies of the book left in existence. I have no idea where they came up with that number, but back when I started at DC Comics in the '70s, the guess was that maybe two dozen were still out there. Of course, that guess was no more scientific than the one used today. In any case, it will probably remain a guess because I suspect that the people who own one aren't about to advertise it.

==
For whatever reason, today seems to be a day for lists making the news. Among those I've come across this morning are:
* America's 30 Druggiest Colleges
The University of Colorado leads the list, followed by Dennison College in Ohio and Dartmouth (which I guess can now claim to be the "highest"-ranking of the Ivy League schools). Also on the list are five campuses of the State University of New York (Fredonia, New Paltz, Oneonta, Oswego, and Purchase). None of the schools on this list made it onto this next one...

* America's 10 Unhappiest Colleges
The students at the New Jersey Institute of Technology are apparently the unhappiest of all. Also on the list are the students at the Merchant Marine, Coast Guard and Naval Academies. The students at Indiana University of Pennsylvania also made the top ten, perhaps because they are not sure which state they are in.

* The 10 Saddest Cities in America
St. Petersburg, Florida tops this list but its residents can cheer up just a little by driving over to Tampa, which ranked as #4. Detroit and Memphis are in between. Thankfully, none of the unhappy colleges are located in the saddest cities; that would be just too depressing.

* The #1 Stolen Car in America
A 1994 Honda Accord! The article says they are stolen for the parts, but how many of these 18-year-old cars are still out there? You have to wonder, are there more 1994 Honda Accords or copies of Action Comics #1 in the world?
Also at the top of the list is the 1991 Toyota Camry, which makes you wonder if the thieves are new car dealers trying to force people into buying vehicles built in this century.

* The Places You Must See Before You Die
Machu Picchu beats out such destinations as the Great Pyramid of Giza, Yellowstone National Park, Easter Island, Red Square in Moscow and the Great Barrier Reef. You could spend quite a bit of money just getting to those six places... or you could do a Google Images search.
==

Also in the news, there's the story about the 4,000-pound unexploded bomb that was discovered in the Rhine River in Koblenz, Germany. It is believed to have been dropped by the RAF during World War II and has been sitting there ever since. Half of the city's 45,000 residents -- including hospital patients and prison inmates -- are being evacuated before any attempts are made to defuse it.
If anyone is putting together a list of The World's Most Dangerous Cities, Koblenz should probably be on it.

==

Finally, Coca-Cola has announced that they are abandoning their special white holiday cans and switching (or "reverting back," as one article put it) to the traditional red ones. One of the complaints was that consumers were confusing the white cans with the silver Diet Coke ones. But there were also people complaining that the soda tastes different in the white cans!

Tales of The Batman: Don Newton

2011-11-17T19:55:00.002-05:00

DC continues their series of high-priced collections of Batman stories by a single artist and this time around it's Don Newton. Unlike the Marshall Rogers volume I wrote about a few weeks back, Tales of The Batman: Don Newton is $10 cheaper and 144 pages shorter. Still, at $39.99, one might expect a bit more effort being put into it.

I mentioned in my column about the Rogers book that my script was the first Batman story he drew. I did not realize until I got the Newton book that Don's first Batman story was also one of mine. The story, "With This Ring, Find Me Dead" ran in Batman #305 and was the first half of a two-parter. And that's where the lack of an editor or designer who pays any attention to the material first becomes obvious; in between the two parts of my story is a Denny O'Neil tale from the issue of Detective Comics that went on sale between the two issues of Batman. I could perhaps understand the desire to have Don's work appear chronologically, but they could have fudged it a little. [There's a similar situation later in the book when a Michael Fleisher story that ends with "To be continued--!!" is interrupted by an eight-page short by Marv Wolfman, again, presumably to maintain chronological order.]

As seems to be the case with virtually everything DC reprints these days, they are using the original film negatives and not bothering to fix any problems. As a result, blurbs for the next issue -- including on sale dates -- are left on the pages, without any regard for their correctness. In one case, the blurb reads, "Next month: Batman has 'A Bad Day in Baja!'" Amusingly, that story begin on the very next page and is titled "Bad Night in Baja."
In another example, the aforementioned Marv Wolfman 8-page story is numbered 1 through 7 with the last page numbered 41!

Similar to the Rogers volume, there is a dearth of information about the artist being spotlighted. The only text is on the back cover flap: "Don Newton was born in1934 and began his career as a professional comic book artist in 1974. After becoming an art teacher in his home of Arizona Newton became an active participant in the culture of comics both as a fan and a creator. He produced distinctive work on iconic characters for companies such as Charlton, Marvel and DC. His work on Batman and several other DC characters is still widely respected for its deft storytelling and characterization. Don Newton passed away in 1984 at the age of 49."
At least, unlike the case of Marshall Rogers, they do acknowledge that Don has died. (By the way, had that paragraph been shown to DC's ace proofreader, Arlene Lo, she probably would have pointed out where there are commas missing.)

The Table of Contents pages provide additional proof that more editorial oversight was needed. The stories written by Denny O'Neil list him as "Dennis J. O'Neil." Okay, I've seen Denny use his full name a couple of times on his work, so maybe that's how he wanted it to appear. But inker Bob Smith, who has always worked under that name, is listed in the ToC as "Robert R. Smith," which is particularly bizarre since I'm pretty sure his middle name is Allen!

And then there are the black pages. I can only presume that the book designer set these up expecting them to be filled with a foreword and an afterword. How else to explain three pages that are solid black save for an inch and a half of spot art at the top? But I can think of no explanation for page 301 being completely black!

I know there are other books in this series. (I have not seen the Gene Colan edition; I don't recall Gene ever having drawn one of my Batman stories, so DC won't be sending me a copy.) One has to hope, though, that at some point in the future, someone will start paying more attention to what they are publishing.

And Now, the Really Important News...

2011-11-17T12:35:00.000-05:00

Congress has declared that pizza is a vegetable, citing the tomato sauce as the primary reason for this pronouncement. It is good to know that with all of the problems in the world today, they have the time to devote to this important question.

This is particularly important to those of us who work each summer at CTY Chestertown, where we place requirements on what our students eat. For example, when we tell them they must have a serving of a fruit or vegetable with a meal, we do not count ketchup, pickles, any form of potatoes or anything that is fried. [One student, wanting us to count onion rings as his vegetables, argued about the latter. He even called his mother to verify that an onion was a vegetable. He gave up, however, when it was pointed out that he was pulling the onion out and eating only the crunchy coating.] We've also refused to count such things as orange soda, grape jelly, cherry Jell-O, and Froot Loops as servings of fruit.

As far as pizza, we've conceded in the past few years to counting it as a protein, but one that could not be eaten for every lunch or dinner. I can only imagine what is in store in the coming year, when some up-on-the-news student tries to claim a slice as both a serving of protein and vegetables.

Hey, if Congress says it, it must be the law, right?

==

In other important news, Starbucks has announced that they will close the public restrooms in their New York locations. Apparently, having long lines of customers waiting to use them interferes with the ability of the employees to do so, thereby slowing down service. Clearly, Starbucks' ability to dispense vast quantities of liquid to their customers far surpasses their ability to receive it.

Given NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg's propensity for issuing ordinances regarding such things as smoking and the sale of fatty foods in the name of public well-being, it is probably only a matter of time before he weighs in on this one. Surely the idea of New Yorkers, their bladders filled with super-duper-grande coffee beverages, having to wander the streets in search of relief is an imminent threat to public health!

I'm so glad I don't work in New York City any more.

'Mazing TV

2011-11-07T11:05:00.001-05:00

Twenty-five years after his debut in the pages of a DC comic book, 'Mazing Man has become a cartoon character, part of an episode of Batman:The Brave & the Bold on Cartoon Network.

'Maze, co-created by artist Stephen DeStefano and yours truly, had a twelve-issue run of his own monthly magazine plus three Specials over the next couple of years. Sigfried Horatio Hunch III, independently wealthy because he had won the Publisher's Reading House sweepstakes, donned a helmet he found in the trash and became the superhero of his neighborhood in Queens, NY. He lived in an apartment with Denton Fixx, a comic book writer for BC Comics, and Denton's divorced sister, K.P. The cast was rounded out by young marrieds Brenda and Eddie Valentine and wanna-be lothario Guido Garibaldi. It was a TV sitcom in comic book form, years before six other "Friends" became mainstays on NBC.

"Kitty Catastrophe," 'Mazing Man's cartoon appearance, is loosely based on a story of the same name that appeared in MM #8. (You can watch the cartoon at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4A0Kk9DdbWI) Stephen was the one who suggested 'Maze when the show's producers were looking for characters to use. He did the storyboards and gets onscreen credit for his handiwork. (Unless there was something in the impossible-to-read, squished-into-a quarter-of-the-screen-box closing credits of the show, I was not acknowledged as co-creator of the character.)

DC and Warner Bros have nixxed another 'Maze short that Stephen has proposed, so it seems likely that this will be his only TV appearance. As for a reprint collection of the comic book series -- though some fans have suggested it, DC is not listening.

A Tree Grows in America

2011-11-03T11:51:00.000-04:00

A big old tree sits right where the property lines of four backyards intersect. It's a massive tree, providing plenty of shade in Anderson's yard, but the branches that overhang Baker's yard drop leaves into his swimming pool. Carver has discovered that the tree's roots have stretched across his yard, making it impossible for him to plant his vegetable garden as well as starting to cause damage to the foundation of his house. Denton has severe allergies to plants of all kinds, including the tree.

One morning, the four homeowners converge at the tree. After a few minutes of discussion, they realize that there is no consensus about what to do. Finally, one of the neighbors says, "We each have our own needs and concerns. We should hire someone to come up with the best solution."

Independent of one another, each neighbor hires a tree specialist to come and analyze the situation.
Apple, hired by Anderson, says there is nothing wrong and, except for some minor trimming of dead branches, the tree should be left just as it is.
Birch, hired by Baker, decides that all the branches on the pool side should be cut off.
Chestnut, hired by Carver, says he will excavate the yard and remove the roots that are causing the problem.
Dogwood, hired by Denton, proposes cutting the tree down.

Armed with the proposals they've gotten, the four neighbors reconvene. It does not take long for them to realize that no one's plan is going to satisfy the other three. The only thing they can agree on is that their four "experts" need to sit down together and come up with an answer.

Apple, Birch, Chestnut, and Dogwood, each happy to be collecting a "consulting fee," meet at a local coffee shop. Cutting off the branches near Baker's pool will take away the shade in Anderson's yard. Digging up the roots in Carver's yard would be dangerous to the tree's health as well as damaging to its structural support; in a bad storm, the tree could be blown over onto one or another of the houses. After four hours of debate, they resolve nothing.

Apple, Birch, Chestnut, and Dogwood report back, each telling the neighbor who hired him that they have made no headway, but that they should continue to meet until they can come up with a plan. Seeing no other alternative, each of the four neighbors agrees.

After six months of these meetings, all at the neighbors' expense, nothing has been accomplished.
Carver, frustrated that he has missed an entire season of gardening, confronts Chestnut. "These guys are intractable," says Chestnut. "They don't care about damage to your property."
Equally angered, the other neighbors meet with their representatives.
"They refuse to see the environmental impact of their plans," insists Apple to Anderson.
"Their response to your health issues," reports Dogwood, "is that you should take a pill."
Birch tells his client, "They say that if you can afford a pool, you can afford to clean it."

Each of the four neighbors is left with the same assurance, "Don't worry! I've got your best interests in mind. I'll keep meeting with these guys until we get our way." Left unsaid is, "And you will keep paying me to do so."

One day about a year later, Sycamore knocks on Carver's door and says, "Listen, Chestnut isn't getting the job done for you. Hire me and I'll make sure to convince the others that those tree roots have to go." Carver agrees, fires Chestnut, and sends Sycamore in his place.
Realizing that getting someone else might be a good idea, Denton fires Dogwood and hires Hickory, who claims he can get the job done... and at a lower price than Dogwood would have charged.
Birch convinces Baker that he will have the advantage over the new guys and keeps the job.
Apple, pointing out to Anderson that the tree is still just as it was, says, "Hey, I'm doing my job and will continue to do so."

The four "experts" continue to meet. The four homeowners continue to pay them, a bit more, in fact, because the "experts" determine that their time is now more valuable.

One afternoon, weeks later, a man sitting nearby in the coffee shop listens in as the four "experts" debate. He has been there many times before and has heard them argue the same points again and again. After a few minutes, he says, "Pardon my interruption, gentlemen. It seems to me that you could cut back just a few of the branches, keeping most of the shade but reducing the amount of pollen and the number of leaves in the pool . And as long as you leave some of the roots in place, the tree should be okay; the garden might have to be a bit smaller, but you can stop the damage to the foundation of the house."

The four "experts" look at the man, shake their heads and smile. "You don't understand," says Apple. "We don't need to actually do anything; we just need the people who hired us to think we are."

"And these homeowners don't realize what's going on?" asks the man.

"Oh, no," laughs Apple. "We get paid to sit here and talk and blame each other for nothing being resolved. In fact, I've convinced enough clients of my expertise that having these meetings has become my career. I will never have to pick up my chainsaw again!"

The man walks away, thinking that, despite the fact he can't tell a palm from an evergreen, he would like to have a career as a tree expert. "Perhaps I should pay a call on some of those homeowners..."

Tales of the Dark Knight: Marshall Rogers

2011-10-29T12:41:00.002-04:00

The other day I received a comp copy of Legends of the Dark Knight: Marshall Rogers, an almost-500 page $50 hardcover volume containing virtually all the Batman art Marshall did. While Marshall is perhaps best-known for his collaboration with Steve Engelhart on a run in Detective Comics, his first Batman story was actually the last chapter of my Calculator series in 'Tec. And that almost didn't happen...

The Calculator series had been running as a back-up in the book, with the villain battling The Atom, Black Canary, Elongated Man, Green Arrow, and Hawkman in succession, all leading up to a confrontation with Batman. Mike Grell pencilled the first two tales and Ernie Chua (Chan) did the third before Marshall came on board. Editor Julie Schwartz and I loved how Marshall handled the GA and Hawkman chapters and wanted him to pencil the book-length final chapter.

But we ran into a bit of a roadblock. Vince Colletta, who was DC's Art Director at the time, did not think Marshall was ready to handle the lead story in a book, particularly a Batman story. Eventually, Julie prevailed, Marshall pencilled the story, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Anyway, back to this hardcover collection. The copy on the dust jacket flap reads: "Marshall Rogers was born in Flushing, New York on January 22, 1950. Rogers worked in comics for many years but is best known for his detailed and realistic work on Batman during his run on Detective Comics in the late 1970's. Considered extremely influential by both writers and artists to this day, he left an indelible mark on the world of comics."

And that's it! Despite the hefty page count and equally hefty price, this book has no introduction or foreword of any sort. There is no mention of any of Marshall's other work -- for DC and other publishers. There is no further info about his career and no commentary by any of the writers, inkers and editors who worked with him. There isn't even mention of the fact that Marshall died in 2007!

It's not like the information is a secret. Wikipedia has a long entry about Marshall and his career. Even DC's own online Database has more info about him than the book does!

One thing the book does have, however, is a misplaced apostrophe on the back cover: "Roger's (sic) Batman stories introduced ideas and visuals that remain a staple in Batman tales to this day."

Maybe they could correct that when they do a second printing...and add some more biographical material to all the empty space on the end flaps.

It Must Be True-- I Read It on the Internet!

2011-10-20T10:08:00.007-04:00

Wild animals running loose... in Ohio? Sheriff's staff takes part in a big-game hunt after the owner of a private zoo lets them loose and kills himself! If you saw this in a movie or read it in a book, you'd say, "How ridiculous!"

Tea Party urges small businesses to not hire any new employees in order to ruin the economy and bring down Obama and the Senate and their socialist agenda? Are these people who are not being hired the ones who are Occupying Wall Street?

Muammar Gaddafi dead? Captured? Shot in the leg(s)? How can we be sure it's him since no one can even agree about how to spell his name?

A 67-year old Canadian man was arrested for drunk driving for the 24th time? At some point, shouldn't someone have taken away his car keys?

Riverside County, California sex offenders have officially been prohibited from distributing trick-or-treat candy and lighting their homes with Halloween decorations. No comment.

A single cup of ice cream has more fat than a hamburger and more cholesterol than 10 glazed doughnuts. So, a burger and five donuts is the much better choice?

A Day at the New York Comic-Con

2011-10-17T11:06:00.006-04:00

It's been a couple of years since I last went to the New York Comic-Con. I usually find such massive conventions a bit too much after a couple of hours and, after seeking out a few familiar faces and chatting, I head home.

That was pretty much my plan on Saturday. I took a 10:00 train to the city, got to the Javits Center at about 11:15 and figured I'd be on a 2:00 train home. When I showed my badge to a Con employee and he directed me onto a line that snaked down the hill and around most of the building and back again, I was thinking that I might just give up and be on a train at noon. After being on the line -- which, to the credit of the Con personnel moved steadily -- for about ten minutes, I came upon another Con employee and asked if there wasn't some other entrance for the Comics Pros. He looked at my badge and said, "Why are you on this line? You should have gone right in!" He gave me his name, sent me back up the hill, and said to tell whoever I encountered that he had sent me. This time, however, I walked right in.

There were half a dozen old friends who were on my short list of people I wanted to see. A couple of them were scheduled to be doing signings at one booth or another, but otherwise, they would be wandering around like I was. The Archie Comics booth was easy to find once I entered the hall, so I headed there, thinking I might find Paul Kupperberg. Kupps wasn't there, but Michael Uslan was, signing copies of comics and his book, The Boy Who Loved Batman. As Michael and I talked, Kupps and John Workman walked up. Moments later, Allan Asherman and Arlene Lo walked by and joined us, followed by Jack C. Harris.

Sidebar: Back in the very early days of our careers at DC Comics, then VP/Production Manager Sol Harrison decided that we "kids" should put together a company-backed fanzine called Amazing World of DC Comics. He came to my desk and said, "Go get the rest of your pals and bring them to my office." So I went to my compatriots and said, "Sol wants to have a Junior Woodchucks meeting." I was making a joke, using the name of the faux-Boy Scouts that Huey, Dewey and Louie of Donald Duck fame belonged to. But the name stuck...and we became DC's Junior Woodchucks.

So I'd been at the Con for about five minutes and already I was reunited with three of my Junior Woodchuck pals -- Michael, Allan, and Jack. We all talked and laughed for awhile, reminding one another of stories from the old days and deciding that we could start a comic book company -- Old Fart Comics.

John Workman, yours truly, Paul Kupperberg, Jack C. Harris, Michael Uslan, Allan Asherman (photos courtesy of JCH)

Michael had to depart for a panel and the rest of us headed over to the Kubert School booth to say hi to Joe Kubert. Joe was signing a book when we got there and I said, "Excuse me, Mr. Kubert. If we come to your school, could we get jobs in the comic book business?" Joe looked up, laughed and said, "You? No way!"

Allan, Arlene and Paul then split off for other destinations as Jack, John and I headed to Artists Alley, where I wanted to find my old pal and collaborator, Alex Saviuk. Jack had already seen Alex, so he led the way. After chatting with Alex for awhile, we decided to wander. I still had Marty Pasko and Tony Isabella on my short list of people to find.

We made our way to the DC Comics booth. It has been thirteen years since I left staff at DC and about ten since I last did any freelance work for them, so I did not expect to know that many people there. As it turned out, the only person I did know was editor Karen Berger. Karen gave us another name to add to our list, saying that Len Wein was also at the Con.

Time flew by quickly as we made our way around the Con, stopping to have long or short conversations with Walt and Louise Simonson, Joe and Hillary Staton, Denny and Maryfrann O'Neil, Arvell Jones, Bob Wiacek, Bob Kahan, Robin and Elayne Riggs, Craig Yoe, Jamie Graham, and Mark Mazz. Along the way I was greeted by a fan who had seen my presentation at the Pronto Comics meeting in August and another who had been present when I spoke at a meeting of the comic book fans at Hofstra University about five years ago. And in the "I didn't expect to see you here" department, we were taking a break when I spotted one of the Teaching Assistants from CTY walking by. She was as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

With Michael Uslan with the splash page of our Batman collaboration

At about 4:15, Jack, John and I decided to head back to Artists Alley for another try at finding Marty, Tony and/or Len. Our route took us past the Museum of Comic and Cartoon Art booth, where Michael was signing his book. We stopped for another chat with Mike and he and I posed for a photo with the splash page of the Batman story we collaborated on way back in 1976.

Just as we were talking about the guys we had yet to find, up strolled Tony. He looked at Jack and me and said, "Am I having an acid flashback?" "More like acid indigestion," replied Jack.

While Tony and I chatted, I mentioned that we had yet to find Marty and then glanced up to see him walking right past us. We pulled Marty into our group for another lively conversation about the "old days."

With Marty Pasko, Jack, and Tony Isabella

At about 5:30, the group started to split up for different destinations and I decided it was time for me to head home. So I bid my pals farewell and headed out through the throngs of costumed and non-costumed fans.

Alas, we never did find Len.

Swimsover 2011

2011-10-12T08:35:00.000-04:00

Our neighbors on both sides have had their pools closed and covered for weeks, but ours has remained open -- as usual -- through Columbus Day. As seems to be the norm, we were rewarded with temperatures in the 80s over the three-day weekend and I was able to get in a few more swims. (Laurie's mother used to say, "It always gets hot around the Jewish holidays" and that holds true, regardless of when in September or October those holidays fall. Not surprising, then, that Saturday was Yom Kippur.)

But following my one last swim yesterday afternoon -- with both air and water temps in the mid 70s -- our "Temperature Team" of thermometers is now off duty. The cover awaits the arrival of the guys who will close the pool for the season. And we look forward to next April and First Dunk 2012.

The way time seems to be flying by, that should be in about a week...

Strange Adventures in Halifax

2011-10-06T13:48:00.001-04:00

Sometimes you have to wonder where coincidence ends and cosmic intervention begins.

Case in point: We are on a cruise and make a stop in Halifax, Nova Scotia. One of the highlights to visit in the city is the Citadel. Not surprisingly, this massive fortress sits on the top of a hill overlooking the harbor... a fairly steep hill, at that.

Ignoring the suggestion of a friendly traffic director that we follow one street about six blocks and then head straight up the hill, I decide that we should zigzag, thereby making the trek up the hill a bit less strenuous by breaking it up.

So what are the odds that our across-and-up path should take us up a side street where the only comic book shop in Halifax, Strange Adventures, is located? Laurie will insist it is the hand of fate that does this.

So we enter the shop and, as she is wont to do, Laurie immediately asks if the owner is there. Cal Johnston identifies himself and Laurie says, "You should meet my husband. He's famous."

As I am wont to do, I just roll my eyes and say, "Oh, here we go." We have gone through this scenario in other places and it usually leads to a response like, "Oh...okay." This time, however, as I identify myself, Cal exclaims, "Wow! The Answer Man is in the house!"

Cal and I had a pleasant conversation about my Answer Man column that ran in the comics in the '70s and '80s. I offered to autograph some books, but the most recent volumes containing reprints of my work (Secret Society of Super-Villains, Greatest Batgirl Stories, and Showcase: Robin #2) were all sold out.

Cal apologizes. "If we'd known you were coming, we would have ordered a few more copies."

"I'm sure you would have, but I didn't know I was coming!" was my reply.

Despite the lack of comics I wrote, Strange Adventures is quite well-stocked. Comics, books, and related material are all arranged to attract attention and invite browsing. It's easy to see why they are called Canada's best comics shop. As Laurie put it, "I have no interest in comics, but I would buy things here."

More "Truth" in Advertising

2011-09-15T11:19:00.000-04:00

Among the many writing assignments my students do every summer, a pair of my favorites involve advertising.

In the first, we create the "Ultimatoy," the world's greatest toy and come up with a list of all the things it can do -- anything from doing homework, making snacks and cleaning up the room to flying them anywhere in the world. Once we have all the fabulous features, I reveal that the price tag is almost $7 million. Their assignment is to create an advertisement which will prompt consumers to come down to the store to buy one and it doesn't take them long to figure out that they have to hide the price (or leave it out completely).

In the second, they come up with uses for the "Weebil," a fabulous toy that costs only 99c. Once they've come up with the list, they design the packaging; this time they play up the price and hide the fact that the "Weebil" is actually the lid to a cole slaw container.

The primary goal of these assignments is, of course, to tap their creativity, but my secondary one is to alert them to the concept that advertising is very often deceptive. Sometimes it's the way the information is presented, sometimes it's what is left out and sometimes there's just a misstatement to make the product sound better.

**

Among a number of recent radio ads that have had me saying, "Hey, wait a minute," is one for Verizon FiOS. The announcer tells us that users of the competing Optimum service should know that the top download speed advertised is rarely reached, except at 4:30 in the morning, and that Optimum's speeds vary widely during the day. FiOS, on the other hand, has been cited (in a J.D. Power & Associates study, I believe) as having the "most consistent download speed." At no time does the announcer claim that FiOS' download speed is faster than Optimum's, just that it is more consistent. It would seem likely that's because he can't make that claim and that Optimum at its slowest is stil faster than FiOS.

An ad for an auto dealer promises to beat any competitor's price by at least $500 or "the car is free!" Wow! What a great deal! I better run on down there and maybe I can get a free car! But stop and think about this one for a moment. Let's say you find a car at another dealer for $20,000. You go to the dealer making this incredible guarantee with this price. Is he going to sell you the same car for $19,500 or give it to you for free?

Finally, there's a commercial for a "friendly mortgage broker." He says that mortgage rates are so low right now that many people with thirty-year mortgages can refinance for fifteen-year mortgages and end up making the same monthly payment. This might well be the case if your current mortgage rate is particularly high. But where this advertiser loses me is when he claims that refinancing from a 30-year to a 15-year mortgage can save you "hundreds of thousands of dollars in principal and interest." Well, you can save a big chunk of interest for sure by doing this, but since the principal is the amount you have actually borrowed, that's not going to change no matter how many (or few) years you take to pay it back. (By the way, current rates on a 30-year mortgage are about half what they were a decade ago; if you bought your home then and haven't looked into refinancing, you should.)

Anyone want to buy a Weebil?

The Survey Says...

2011-09-09T13:56:00.002-04:00

For the past few years, I've been participating in online surveys for a couple of different organizations. One of them focuses more on business-related decisions and purchases, while the other is more consumer-centric. Some of the surveys are short and some are long; many are interesting but some are tediously boring; most of them relate to me, but a few are way off the mark. (Since I work for a construction company, I tend to get surveys asking about the purchase of tools I use in my job. I may have to hammer out a business letter when someone tries to screw us out of a payment, but it doesn't require actual hand tools.)

Why bother with them? They give rewards. I've gotten magazine subscriptions, Amazon gift certificates, and free DVD rentals (when Blockbuster was still thriving), among other things. Even so, there have been a few surveys that have had me shaking my head and wondering who is thinking up the questions.

I recently responded to a quite long one on the topic of "bathroom tissue." There were lots of questions about a wide variety of brands, most of which I have neither used or even heard of. One series of questions involved this variety of brands and asked which ones would make me want to seek out other users. Now, I'm sure that if I go to Google, I can find a chat group of "Fluffy-and-Puffy Cottony-Soft Bathroom Tissue" enthusiasts, but, really, would you want to know people who are willing to admit they are fans of some brand of toilet paper?

Another survey was about "beverages" and gave a long list of brands and varieties, asking which, if any, I had enjoyed in the past month. As it turned out, there were only coffee and a couple of brands of soda on the list that I'd had. For each variety, they presented a long list of reasons I might have for drinking that beverage. I wonder how many people responded that they drank a glass of Fresca because they wanted "to feel sexy." Or had a cup of coffee ("home-brewed, caffeinated, with milk and an artificial sweetener") so that they could feel "enlightened."

Virtually all of the surveys start out with general questions -- age, gender, location -- presumably so that they can filter out people in their sampling who do not fit the topic being covered. Every now and then, that screening seems to go haywire, as was the case recently when, after establishing that I was a 60-year-old male, I was asked a series of questions about birth control and pregnancy. It's a pretty safe bet that they were able to state from their collected data that no men in my age group are or are planning to become pregnant.

A few of the surveys end with questions about the survey itself. Was it enjoyable? Was it too long? Was it repititious? Unfortunately, the ones that I would really like to respond "This is the most idiotic collection of questions ever assembled" rarely allow for feedback. I suspect they already know.

The Fact Is...

2011-09-01T15:08:00.002-04:00

"Get your facts first, and then you can distort them as much as you please." -- Mark Twain
"Just the facts, ma'am..." -- Jack Webb as Sgt. Joe Friday, on Dragnet

Not so long ago, an article appeared in the newspaper about the trend in writing and grading essay papers, saying that there was more attention being paid to style and far less to the actual facts cited. For example, a student writing about the Civil War who wrote in complete sentences but with the history incorrect would score higher than one whose command of the facts was greater than his ability to compose an organized essay.

I suppose that, in the abstract, if the only goal of a writing class is to teach structure, grammar and usage, then the facts really don't matter at all. The student might as well be writing about the history of the Republic of Warewebee or the plant life in the Shuriscary Jungle. But if the purpose is also to teach them how to do research, gather and organize information, and present it in a logical way, you might expect a bit more emphasis on getting the facts correct.

Just yesterday, Laurie was grading a first round of papers from one of her classes, and more than one contained historical "facts" that weren't. One student stated that the United States had been the first nation in outer space. Not so; the Russians beat us with the first satellite (Sputnik on October 4, 1957) and the first man (Yuri Gargarin on April 12, 1961). We did, however, beat the Russians to the moon, with the first landing on July 20, 1969; in fact, they have never gotten there with a manned spacecraft.

Another student claimed that the U.S. was involved in the Vietnam War from 1955 to 1975 and that involvement prevented us from having any money to help the people who were "trapped inside the Berlin Wall." I'm pretty sure Wikipedia gets the credit/blame for the first part of that, presuming that the student read only the first sentence of the Wiki article about the Vietnam War, ignoring the rest of it that included the information about our first combat troops being deployed in 1965. As far as the Berlin Wall, most people would probably agree that it was the East Germans who were outside the Wall who were trapped. [As a side note, I highly recommend Berlin 1961 by Frederick Kempe as a very readable history of the power plays and politics surrounding the erection of the Wall.]

Those of you of the Baby Boomer Generation probably read the above paragraphs and thought, "I knew that!" Unfortunately, history and geography are among the subjects that are apparently no longer important in school. Each summer, I am startled by how "geographically challenged" and "historically deprived" my CTY students -- kids who have completed fifth or sixth grade and are ranked as the top 1% of their age group -- are. Rounds of "Think Fast" in which they are asked to name states west of the Mississippi River, countries in Europe, or rivers result in off-the-wall responses ("Paris?") or blank stares. One student insisted that Benjamin Franklin had been a President of the United States; when I suggested that perhaps he was confusing him with FDR, he replied, "That's him! Benjamin Franklin Roosevelt!"

Unfortunately, thanks to the internet, more and more of this misinformation gets posted somewhere, then gets picked up and repeated until it is quoted as fact, no matter how incorrect it actually is. So, as my part in an effort to prevent this, I'll leave you with the following facts:
* Paris is not a state. There is a city named Paris in Texas; Texas is a state, and one that is west of the Mississippi.
* Paris is also not a country. It is a city in France, which is a country located in Europe.
* There is no Paris River in Paris, France (nor in Paris, Texas, for that matter). The name of the river in France is the Seine.
* Benjamin Franklin was never the President of the United States.
* Franklin Delano Roosevelt was the 32nd President of the United States from 1933 until his death in 1945. He is the only President ever elected to the office four times.
* Franklin Pierce was the 14th President of the United States, in office from 1853 to 1857.
* Benjamin Franklin Pierce is the full name of the character "Hawkeye" in M*A*S*H. (Alan Alda, who played Hawkeye in the TV series, later played a presidential candidate in The West Wing.)

Not Quite the End of the World...

2011-08-29T14:04:00.001-04:00

Notes from the Hurricane Irene weekend...

* We had overnight guests on Saturday when our friends Stephan and Joi and their daughter Shelby were among the many Long Islanders faced with the mandatory evacuation of their homes. They had gotten a reservation at a motel that, once they arrived, they described as "sketchy at best." Prepared to go to one of the numerous shelters opened up around the island, they called Laurie who said, "Come here. We'll have a barbecue." (We didn't have a barbecue; Stephan insisted on treating us to dinner, so we had Chinese takeout instead.)
On Sunday, after the brunt of the storm had passed, they decided they wanted to head home. A call to the police department resulted in a response that their street was under four feet of water. But then Joi spoke to a neighbor who had not evacuated, who walked over to their house and reported back that there was no water at all. So they headed home; their house was dry, albeit without electricity.

* One of the two big maple trees in front of our next door neighbor's house was blown over by the wind. It fell across the street and came to rest on the power lines... which sagged substantially but did not snap. In the late afternoon, a crew arrived to cut the tree apart. They did it quickly and efficiently and without the power ever going out.
We were amazed by the number of people who came -- on foot and in cars -- to take photos of the tree. A couple of particularly foolish ones chose to climb onto the tree to have their picture taken, despite warnings that it was resting on live wires.

* Chuck and Rebecca weathered the storm with evacuee guests as well, their close friend Dave and his sister Mai. Meanwhile, Sammi and her housemate Vanessa had left their home in Virginia about two hours ahead of a mandatory evacuation being announced and had a very nice weekend in the Shenandoah Valley -- a perfect example of making lemonade out of life's lemons. They got home this afternoon to find the flood waters receded (with no damage to the house) and electric power restored.

* Meantime, the Long Island Power Authority continues to deal with power outages all over LI. The total was about 475,000 customers (that's homes and businesses, not people) without power at the peak yesterday. It was at about 371,000 when I checked it recently, one-third of their total customers.
Though we did not lose power this time, we have in past storms (including one occasion when our block was in the dark while the houses directly behind us were fine), so I can certainly sympathize with those people still waiting for it to be restored. And it is very frustrating to have no definitive answer about when it will happen.
Still, venting in a venomous rage on the LIPA website, as some folks have done, is not going to make anything happen any faster. One poster carries on because he read on someone's blog that they drove past a LIPA truck where the crew was sitting and eating; apparently, these men and women should not be allowed a meal break until all the power is restored. (It is interesting to note that, despite the lack of electricity, these disgruntled folks have managed to post some incredibly long diatribes.)

So now the storm has gone and we will await the next "disaster" on Mother Nature's agenda. Locusts, perhaps?

The End of the World...

2011-08-27T12:12:00.001-04:00

"It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end,
It's the end of the world."

With Hurricane Irene bearing down on us, as it has been for the past four days, the media frenzy has fed upon itself to the point where this had better be the storm of the century or everyone is going to be terribly disappointed.

New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg ordered some 300,000 residents to evacuate such areas as Coney Island, the Rockaways, and Battery Park in Manhattan. He then announced that the subway and bus system would be shut down at noon today in advance of the storm. Since many people in the areas he ordered evacuated do not have cars, how exactly does he expect them to get out of town? And just how many families carrying all their important possessions can fit on a city bus anyway?

Not to be outdone, the Nassau and Suffolk County Executives have ordered the "mandatory evacuation" of a large portion of the population on Long Island's south shore at 5:00 p.m. this evening. The line of demarcation in Nassau is Sunrise Highway in the western portion and Merrick Road to the east. There are many houses less than one block south of these roads; should these people just walk across the street to be safe?

How does anyone enforce a mandatory evacuation, anyway? Do they drag you out of your house and put you in jail? A news reporter covering the evacuation plan in Suffolk said that the Sheriff's Department would be going door-to-door, collecting the names, phone numbers and next-of-kin information of those people who will not leave. I don't know how many employees the Suffolk County Sheriff's Department has, but it seems to me that they will still be ringing doorbells long after the storm has passed.
Perhaps the only realistic threat that could be used to get people to leave is to say, "Look, if there's flooding and you end up sitting on your roof, we're not going to risk anyone else's safety to come and get you. If you stay, you're on your own." Of course, then we won't have any of those dramatic rescue videos that TV news stations love to show.

For those who enjoy ironic humor: The Farmingdale Patch web page that reports the evacuation order includes an ad for the Farmingdale Aquatic Swim Club.

**

According to the 2010 census, the population of Long Island (including Queens and Brooklyn) is 7.5 million people. If we were forced to evacuate the Island, all 118 miles of it, we have just three bridges -- the Throgs Neck, the Whitestone and the RFK (nee Triborough) -- which connect to the mainland. Four other bridges -- the 59th St, Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and Manhattan -- and two tunnels -- Midtown and Brooklyn-Battery -- connect us to Manhattan, which is, by the way, another island with only the Lincoln and Holland Tunnels and the George Washington Bridge as means of egress. One last bridge, the Verrazano, connects to Staten Island, which is also, as you can tell from its name, an island; should we manage to get to SI, however, there are three bridges we can use to get to New Jersey.

Considering how backed up the highways, bridges and tunnels get during a normal rush hour, does anyone seriously think that Long Island could ever be evacuated in an emergency? Might as well stay put in the comfort of your home and enjoy a beverage. Or, as we used to say back during the peak of the Cold War when we had those duck-and-cover air raid drills in school, "Put your head between your knees and kiss your butt goodbye."

**

Well, that's all for now from "Stormfront: Long Island." Check back later to see how we make out. I might be blogging while sitting in an inner tube as I float down the street.

On DC's Relaunch

2011-08-25T11:38:00.001-04:00

A number of people have asked me recently what I think of DC Comics' plan to relaunch their entire line of comics with fifty-two new #1 issues beginning next week. My response has been the same each time; it is not the print version of these comics that is the key element here. It is the digital edition, which will be released "day and date" with the ink-on-paper editions.

It is no secret that comic books have lost a substantial portion of their readership over the past decade-plus. The print runs for many books being published these days are less than 10,000 copies -- numbers that would have had past generations of publishers cancelling the titles faster than a speeding bullet. (Books that were cancelled for "low sales" just a couple of decades ago -- my own 'Mazing Man included -- would be considered top-sellers in today's market.)

The potential new readers have grown used to getting all their entertainment online -- games, TV, movies. They are not likely to walk into a comic book shop and start buying up lots of $2.99 and $3.99 "pamphlets." Nor are they likely to become hooked on anything DC or Marvel is currently publishing by buying a single issue because there are virtually no self-contained stories any more. Company-wide "events" that are spread over seventy-five different issues? At $3 of $4 a pop? It's no wonder even the current fans have been dropping out.

Starting over with all #1s that are also revamps of the existing characters makes sense if you are looking to hook a brand-new audience. And while DC is already crowing about having orders of more than 200,000 print copies of JLA #1 and 100,000 of six other titles, that is probably lots more speculators than new readers. It is the digital sales that will be the telling factor here... and those won't be known until the issues are released.

Should the digital versions of the books build up an audience -- at the expense of the printed versions, of course -- the next logical step would have a substantial number of the titles going "digital-only," with only the most mainstream characters (Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, etc.) still appearing in print. That is the game-plan I would be pushing if I were still there.

But then, what do I know? After all, I'm the guy who, back in the mid-80s, said that comic book coloring, color separations, lettering, and even the art could and would eventually be done on a computer screen, only to be pooh-poohed by the powers-that-were.

Mother Nature and the Media

2011-08-24T10:28:00.000-04:00

I'm sure everyone on the West Coast is laughing at us!

The way the media reacted yesterday afternoon (and continue to do so today), you would have thought the earthquake that rumbled from Virginia through the East Coast was on par with the quake/tsunami that hit Japan earlier this year. Despite all the building evacuations, minor flight delays, event cancellations, etc., it wasn't. But that didn't stop the talking heads on every news channel from trying to make it seem like big news. A brief visit to the website of our local news channel showed the two commentators talking about how they felt while the 15 seconds of shaking was occuring followed by a phone interview of someone else who felt it.

My main concern? The quake occured in Virginia, where Sammi lives, though it turned out she is about 120 miles away from the epicenter. Even as I was finding out this key piece of information, she had already called and left a voicemail message that she was fine and heading home after they had closed the school. "Things shook, but nothing in my classroom fell down," was her report. (Actually closer to the epicenter were Chuck's in-laws, also in Virginia, who reported the tragic loss of a wine glass.)

Did I feel the quake? Yes, I was sitting at my desk at work. I thought it was caused by a truck pulling up. Frankly, things shook a lot more a couple of months ago when they were digging up and repaving the parking lot.

**

Even as the aftermath of "the great quake of August 23rd" plays out, the media moppets are revving up because Hurricane Irene is projected to make its way to our area over the weekend. Unlike the quake, which came without warning, the impending doom of a hurricane allows the news channels to warn us to stock up on batteries, bottled water, and those famous food staples - milk, eggs and bread. (As Chuck once pointed out, does everyone make French toast during blizzards and hurricanes?)

We've already gotten a robo-call from the Nassau County Executive, advising us to check our chimneys, water and gas lines, and house foundations for damage from the quake and then reminding us to make sure our "emergency preparedness kit" is fully stocked as Hurricane Irene (possibly) bears down on us.

I'd like to write more, but I have to scale the side of the house and check out the chimney, then run off to the store to buy a few hundred double-A batteries, 17 loaves of bread, 30 dozen eggs, and 9 gallons of milk. Oh, yes, and I should stop at the library and check out a dozen DVDs, another thing that people do every time a weather "disaster" looms.

Speaking of Comics...

2011-08-21T15:16:00.001-04:00

Last week I was invited to speak at a meeting of Pronto Comics, a group of up-and-coming independent comics creators, and had a fun time regaling them with tales of my career in the comics industry.
[From their website (www.prontocomics.com ): "Pronto Comics is a group of comic book writers and artists that meets regularly to collaborate on different projects. We pair up writers with artists to work on self published anthologies, and it is our mission to help our members take the necessary steps to achieve their goals of working in the professional comic book industry."]

The Pronto writers and artists produce some interesting material and reminded me of my compatriots back when we were the "new blood" at DC in the 70s.

The following evening, some friends of my son Chuck who do a podcast called RagNerdrok interviewed me for their most recent episode. If you'd like to listen in as I recount tales of my early days at DC Comics, the computerization of coloring and color separations and the Death of Superman, among other things, you can find it at
http://ragnerdrok.com/2011/08/16/podcast-episode-006-interview-with-bob-rozakis-or-journey-to-the-nth-dimension/

All in all, a pair of enjoyable evenings.

Flunctionaries

2011-08-17T10:44:00.004-04:00

functionary
1: one who serves in a certain function
2: one holding office in a government or political party

flunky
1a : a liveried servant
1b : one performing menial or miscellaneous duties
(The above courtesy of the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary.)

I'll lay claim to having created the term flunctionary and define it as a person with a self-esteem-building-but-meaningless title who performs menial or miscellaneous duties for an organization and usually has no idea why those duties are performed.

Case in point is a woman I spoke with recently who works for an accounting firm that performs audits on behalf of various unions. She insisted that they had to perform a payroll audit for the years 2008 to 2010 on a firm that has been out of business for two years and had no income, work, or employees since 2001.
Rather than listen to what was being said to her, she said she would refer it to the union's legal department if we refused to comply. I suppose we could have scheduled the audit and, when the auditor showed up, just handed over an empty folder with the comment, "Here are all the records for the period."

Other flunctionaries I've dealt with in the past include those people who insist that invoices we submit must be done on a form that they've been using for the past few decades, ignoring the fact that said form exists only as a pdf file of an old photocopy that would have to be filled out on a typewriter (presuming one still has one) or by hand. On more than one occasion I have recreated their form as and Excel or Word document so that I could do our monthly requisitions on my computer. I've gone so far as to duplicate the layout, design and fonts used on the originals, including one on which I repeated a misspelling that their form has had since the dawn of time. I never told those flunctionaries what I'd done and smile at the thought of them wondering how I'd gotten such a clean copy to use.

Standard responses from flunctionaries include:
"That's the way it's always been done."
"Everybody does it this way."
"No one else has a problem with this."

And, of course, the flunctionaries are the ones who invaribly ask for three or four or six "originals" of any form we submit. (See my June posting http://bobrozakis.blogspot.com/2011/06/original-originals.html for that one.)

A Writing Assignment (One of Many)

2011-07-31T10:33:00.004-04:00

And suddenly (it seems), we are at the end of the fifth week of CTY 2011. And the end of July, as well. The thirteen students from the first session, who were here "forever," are long gone and the second session class, now two-thirds of the way through their own "forever," have been diligently working and playing.

One of the assignments we have is writing a poem about a color. We hang various colored sheets of construction paper on the wall and I have the students add a word or phrase related to its color to each sheet. They each get to choose a sheet and must compose a poem using the words on the paper and ideas of their own. When there is a sheet left, the students challenge me to come up with a poem as well.

This year, the color no one wanted was brown...

Alas, poor brown
Though the color of chocolate
And cookies which delight my taste buds
You are also the color of dirt
Or earth or ground or mud
And while some extol the virtues
Of coffee and cola and hot chocolate
One is quick to remind us that
"Poop" is also within your realm
And where green stands triumphant
In the leaves on the trees
No one ever mentions your place in the bark
Nor that after those leaves have blazed
With yellows, reds, and oranges
It is brown they become
Like you, forgotten.
Oh, brown, poor brown
So neglected
They don't even let you join the rainbow.

Once more unto the breach...

2011-06-22T08:22:00.003-04:00

Tomorrow morning I head off to Washington College in lovely, bucolic Chestertown, Maryland, for another six weeks teaching Writing & Imagination for the Johns Hopkins CTY summer program.

Some odd bits of information about my CTY summers:

Laurie and I tag-team taught the course for five of the first six years. I've been doing it solo ever since. Chuck was a Teaching Assistant for two summers. Sammi was a Resident Assistant and then Senior RA for four.

In the first ten years, I had ten different Teaching Assistants. At the end of that tenth summer, Lauren said that she planned to come back. She did, as TA, co-instructor and then as instructor of her own section of the course. Last year, I had the first new TA since 2003, though Lauren and I co-instructed the second three-week session. This year I will have another new TA -- the first male TA since way back in 1994.

I've taught more than 375 students over the years. There have been a number of siblings who took the class in different years, as well as at least two sets of twins who were there together. The eleven- and twelve-year-olds who made up our first class are now turning 30!

I have lived in the same dorm room for eight of the past nine years. In total, I have spent about 76 weeks at Washington College. That would put me into my junior year there.

Long-time staff members have a "CTY t-shirt countdown" over the course of the three-week session. Starting with the current year's shirt, we go backwards a shirt a day. As you might imagine, I am always the last man standing. However, I now have more shirts than we have class-days, so there are a couple of times when I double up, changing shirts at lunchtime. Some years, the kids notice fairly quickly; other years we get to the last week before one of the students asks, "Just how many CTY shirts do you have?"

Since the Chester 5 Theater opened, we have been getting a special Tuesday night discount for CTY staff members. We'll go see pretty much anything... and there have been some awfully bad movies released in the past dozen summers! It is agreed that "Legally Blonde 2" is the worst movie we have ever gone to see, with "Miami Vice" in second place.

Of all the strange things I have seen students do, perhaps the greatest number of them involve the toasters in the dining hall. Over the years I have seen watermelon, potato chips, and ice cubes put in them. (Not surprisingly, none of these "experiments" went well.) And a summer doesn't pass without at least one pre-buttered slice of toast or pre-cream-cheesed bagel.

So here comes CTY Chestertown 2011. We shall see what delights and surprises it brings...

Original Originals

2011-06-16T15:44:00.005-04:00

orig·i·nal noun \ə-ˈrij-ə-nəl, -ˈrij-nəl\
1 archaic : the source or cause from which something arises; specifically : originator
2a : that from which a copy, reproduction, or translation is made b : a work composed firsthand
3a : a person of fresh initiative or inventive capacity b : a unique or eccentric person

From time to time you hear about someone being "most unique" or something "reverting back" and, if you are like me (or my dear wife, the English professor) you wince. These are classics from the Department of Redundancy Department.

It was not until I was employed in the construction industry that I encountered the concept of "multiple originals." After all, I worked for twenty-five years in the comic book business and original art was just that, a single piece of artwork created by the artist(s).

Not so in construction. When I was working at Preload, handling the billings, we would occasionally have a customer that would ask for more than one copy of the invoice. We were building a tank in a small town in Maine when I first encountered the need to provide "six originals" of the bill. I joked at the time that it seemed that everyone in that small town wanted his or her own copy of the bill, but I was serious when I said that there could only be one original. "The second one, even if it is an exact copy, is a duplicate," I explained. "The third one is a triplicate." And so on. It fell on deaf ears.

Well, I made my point, at least to my own satisfaction. I made six Xerox copies of the original and we signed and notarized each one. Then I put the original in our file and sent the six copies off to Maine. Each month that we billed them, I did the same thing. They thought they had six originals; actually, they had none.

As the comptroller at Combined Resources Interiors, I still handle the billings. And the demand for multiple originals is far more prevalent. And they want multiples not only of the invoices, but of the waivers and releases as well. Just this afternoon I had a conversation with an accountant at the General Contractor we work for; she said she would need four originals of the paperwork. "You realize that, by definition, only one of them can be the original," I said. She wasn't getting it and replied, "Okay, but I still need four."

As I did at Preload, I handle the need for multiple originals the same way. However many they want, the photocopies are made and all of them are signed and notarized. That seems to keep them happy.

But every now and then I threaten to go into the fine print in the waivers and releases and affidavits and change a few words in each copy. Because that would make each one original!

Where Does the Time Go?

2011-06-07T09:41:00.003-04:00

It feels like I just posted my most recent blog entry, yet it is three and a half weeks later. In the interim, I've scribbled notes to myself about topics I want to explore here, but haven't found the time to do so. Among them...

Big Apple Con
Had a nice time there, as Chuck and Rebecca joined me for the day. Unlike I-Con, where I spent most of my time doings panels, my only obligation seemed to be to show up and sit at the table they provided.
I signed some comic books -- quite a variety of the books I've written, from 'Mazing Man and Hero Hotline to various Superman and Batman Family tales and even a copy of Heroes for Hunger, a fund-raiser comic DC published.

Suddenly, Summer
It stopped being April on Tuesday, May 24th. We went from having 50-degrees-and-raining to having temperatures in the 70s and above. It worked out nicely because that was also the first night of volleyball at the beach.
The pool has been up to 90 degrees on a couple of days and I've had the opportunity for a few "midnight swims" in the past couple of weeks.

The End of the World
Well, it didn't happen on May 21st at 6:00 p.m. I was on a train heading home from Big Apple Con at the time, so I'm glad my final moments weren't spent on the Long Island Railroad.
On the other hand, given the earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes, volcanic eruptions, et al happening lately, maybe it's just taking awhile.
There was one man in Times Square on "Doomsday," surrounded by reporters and non-believers, who was quite surprised that he was still there at 6:01. I'll bet he was wishing he really could disappear!

How Do These People Get Elected?
Congressman Anthony Weiner does inappropriate things online, lies about it, and says that not only will he not resign, he's still planning to run for Mayor of New York City.
Arnold Schwarzenegger fathered how many children with women other than his wife?
Sarah Palin continues to demonstrate her lack of knowledge, screws up on Paul Revere's ride, and insists she's right. To top that off, someone -- presumably a Palin-supporter -- tried to edit the Wikipedia entry on Revere to support Palin's version of history.

Happy 30th Birthday, Chuck
I don't feel old enough to have a son who is thirty years old. To put it in perspective, though, my mother says the same thing about having a son who is sixty!

DC Comics Reboots Their Entire Line
The fanboys are ticked off by this, saying they feel like DC is kicking them to the curb. On the one hand, the people with the disposable income to buy $3 comic books, the trade paperback and hardcover books, and outrageously expensive statues and geegaws are those same fanboys. On the other hand, they are a shrinking number and if the comics industry doesn't find a way to bring in a new generation of readers, it's just a question who is going to be left to turn off the lights.
Far more important than rebooting all the characters -- and lost in most of the hubbub -- is DC's announcement that they will be making all these new books available "date and date" as downloads. Will this capture the attention (and money) of a new generation of readers? Or will it end with DC having no audience at all?

One More Chapter of the Secret History
A bonus chapter of The Secret History of AA Comics will finally see print in Alter Ego #102, on sale later this month. Editor Roy Thomas had expressed an interest in seeing a fuller explanation of the transition away from superhero titles in the late 1940s and, with the aid of artists Larry Guidry and Shane Foley, I provided even more than he expected.

I'm sure there are more topics scribbled on notes that haven't turned up yet. And there will be new ones to add as well. Hopefully, it will be less than three weeks before I'm back to address them.

Superheroes of Stage, Screen and Television

2011-05-16T12:54:00.005-04:00

[SPOILER ALERT: The following discusses "Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark." "Thor" and the season finale of "Smallville."]

It was a busy few nights for me as far as seeing superheroes outside the comic book pages -- in the movies, on the Broadway stage, and on television.

I have always felt that Thor was an odd fit in the Marvel universe. Where virtually every other Marvel superhero is based on some form of pseudo-science, only the god of thunder comes with powers and history firmly rooted in mythology. As long as he was having adventures on Earth, he fit with the rest of the Avengers. His hammer was no more fantastic than Tony Stark's Iron Man suit or Hank Pym's ability to change size. It is where the rest of the Marvel universe intersects with Asgard that things go awry. For me, the mythic/magic and pseudo-science don't mix.

That said, "Thor" works quite well as a stand-alone movie. I'll buy into every bit of the mythology as it is presented in the film, and Asgard, the Rainbow Bridge, et al, are every bit as majestic as they should be. Chris Hemsworth does a fine job playing Thor as a brash and boastful young man being given his comeuppance by his father. It's easy to see why Natalie Portman, as Jane Foster, falls for the hunky guy, though perhaps less understandable why Thor seems so smitten. Jane seems no more feisty and bold than Lady Sif, who has been battling by Thor's side for quite some time.

The rest of the characters, particularly the Warriors Three, are quite close to the way I remember them in the comics of the 60s and 70s. Loki is perhaps a bit more an evil villain than a trickster, but that, too, works. And the overlap from the rest of the Marvel universe, part of the setup for next year's Avengers movie, was not so intrusive as to bother me.

All in all, the movie was worth paying full price to see it. It was even worth the extra few bucks for the 3-D glasses. I well remember the early 3-D movies, where the primary use of the gimmick was to have things seem to be flying out of the still-flat screen at the viewer -- spears, rattlesnakes, cannonballs -- all designed to make you duck out of the way and say "Wow! I could almost touch it!" The 3-D is much more subtle in "Thor," giving everything a rounded, realistic look but not distracting attention from the story.

**

Two nights after seeing "Thor," we got discount tickets for a preview of the newly-revamped "Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark."

Before the show began, a pair of the show's execs -- can't say who they were because they never told us their names -- came out and welcomed us and assured us they had done a lot of work to improve the show. Based on what I've read, there was nowhere for them to go but up!

I haven't read a Spider-Man comic in the past couple of decades and, as with Thor, it is the 60s-70s interpretation of the character that I base my opinions on. The basics of the first act -- with Peter Parker as a nerd being picked on at school, living with Aunt May and Uncle Ben, gaining his powers after being bitten by a "special" spider, and even first using those powers in the wrestling ring to win prize money -- all come from the webslinger's origin. Unfortunately, one element is missing in the death of Uncle Ben, who is shot by a burglar while Peter is off winning his wrestling match. In the original story, said burglar is seen being chased by a policeman and Peter can not be bothered to stop him as he counts his prize money. This, frankly, is one of the keys to the character: Spider-Man will always fight criminals because he feels responsible for Uncle Ben's death.

Much of the first act is devoted to setting things up -- from Peter's relationship with Mary Jane Watson to Norman Osborne's obsession with genetically altering mankind to deal with the future and his transformation into the Green Goblin -- without much payoff. (Laurie told me that if I hadn't been with her, she would have left at the intermission.) One other element in the first act, Peter's fascination with Arachne, the woman turned into a spider by Athena, really slowed the play down. Perhaps this is something that has been introduced in retelling of the origin in the comics, but regardless, it does nothing for this story.

The second act is far better than the first. The mixture of aerial tricks over the audience, video on a screen that fills the entire stage, and some incredibly well- designed sets is the spectacle that I suspect audiences will come looking for. If there is anything that drags, it is the dream sequence featuring the reappearance of Arachne. She apparently had a much larger role in the original version and they wanted to get their money's worth so they left her in. Better they should have devoted the time to developing a bit more chemistry between Peter and Mary Jane.

Finally, where the set design is spectacular, the music is far from it. There is not a tune in the entire show that is memorable. (Much of it, frankly, did not even sound like music.) "Spider-Man, Spider-Man, does whatever a spider can..." Pretty sad when the theme to the 60s cartoon show is catchier than anything in the play... and I haven't heard it in forty years.

So, worth it for $40 discount tickets...but I wouldn't be happy paying full price.

**

Wrapping up this trio of reviews is the series finale of "Smallville."

I must admit that I have been following the show through its ten seasons, mostly because it has drawn a lot of its tone from the Superboy stories I grew up reading (and, to some extent, the ones I wrote). Clark having to learn to use his powers, the rivalry with Lex Luthor, the romance with Lana Lang, the introduction of the Legion of Super-Heroes and young Green Arrow and Aquaman -- all these things happened in the comics edited by Mort Weisinger, though Clark was already wearing the costume and known as Superboy. It was its appeal to my fanboy side that made me overlook some of the more ridiculous and/or overdone elements of the series. (I still don't quite get the connection between the Kryptonians, the Native Americans and that cave.)

Some of the characters -- Tess Mercer being perhaps the best/worst example -- seemed to change personalities and motives with each episode, as if the different writers were unaware of what anyone else was doing. And the pacing of each episode became predictable; no matter how dire the situation, it would be resolved at the 48-minute commercial break.

Such was the case in the finale...twice! In the first hour, Oliver Queen, a victim of Darkseid's omega power, is mind-controlled into giving Lois a gold kryptonite ring to put on Clark's finger during their wedding. (Gold K, for those not versed in Super-lore, would remove his super-powers forever.) Good thing Chloe figured out what it was just in time! And, after a fight, Clark was able to free Ollie from Darkseid's clutches by making him find his good side again...or something like that.

In the second hour, with the volcanic planet Apokolips about to crash into Earth, Clark is able to destroy Darkseid and then send the planet spinning off into space... apparently because he is "the light" sent to earth by Jor-El to defeat the darkness. He does all this in about a minute and a half of the episode. And then everyone else who was taken over by Darkseid's omega power is also cured.

You know, the more I write about this, the lamer it sounds! If I had turned in a script like this to Julie Schwartz, he would have told me to throw it out and try again. Actually, with Julie, it would never even make it to script stage; he would have tossed it out during the plotting!

Okay, so if I rated "Thor" and "Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark"by what I would pay to see them, how would I rate "Smallville" since it's free? Well, I wouldn't pay for the DVD set to watch it again.

First Dunk 2011

2011-05-09T10:30:00.002-04:00

With chilly weather hanging on longer than usual this year, we were in no great rush to open the pool for the season. Longtime readers of this blog may remember that it has been opened in April in the past two years, but it was not until May 3rd that we finally got the cover off.

As a result, First Dunk, my initial swim of the season, was also delayed into the merry month of May. Yesterday afternoon, four of the five members of our "temperature team" -- the floating thermometers Ducky, Swanee, Snorkleduck and Polar Bear Pete -- agreed on a water temp of 69-70 degrees, with the ever-recalcitrant Tommy Turtle stubbornly stuck at 50 degrees. Though the sunshine was intermittent and the air temp was only a couple of degrees higher than the water, I decided it was time for First Dunk.

One of our neighbors used to say that he knew it was almost summer the first day he saw me outside in shorts. (That happened a couple of years in late March!) I'd have to say that First Dunk is a better indicator. I may be the only one in Farmingdale crazy enough to be in the pool this early, but you can take my word for it: The warm weather is on its way.

Truth, Justice and...

2011-05-04T08:31:00.003-04:00

There was quite a bit of hubbub in the media last week because, in Action Comics #900, Superman renounces his American citizenship. The story got coverage everywhere - from The New York Times to Fox News - and the internet is awash in comments of support, shock, and derision.

For those of you who might not be sure, let me point out that Superman is not real. He does not exist. He is a fictional character.

Back in the early 1990s, when the DC editorial team decided to kill the Man of Steel in a monumenmtal battle with Doomsday, the media got hold of the story on a particularly slow news day and it sparked even greater outrage. Protesters picketed outside the Time-Warner headquarters in New York City (which was not the building where DC Comics had its offices), media pundits and everyday folks alike condemned the move, and the creative team received death threats.

At the time, I was approached by a casual acquaintance who knew that I had something to do with Superman and presumed I was the one behind his death. She was outraged at what was happening and wanted to know how we could do such a thing. I replied that I was not the writer of the particular story, though I was pretty sure I had killed Supes in one I'd written some years earlier, and also pointed out that "Superman is not real. He does not exist. He is a fictional character."

Superman was dead, but he got better. This was not because of the protests, the media pressure, or the death threats to the staff. This was because it had been the plan all along. DC killed the Man of Steel to sell comic books... because that is what they are in the business to do. All the free publicity the story generated enabled them to sell millions of copies, making everyone involved quite happy.

In the years since Superman's demise, the media has jumped on other comic book "events" in a similar frenzy. The publishers love this because it means they sell more copies and that translates to more money in their pockets. If Superman renouncing his citizenship results in more sales of the $5.99-priced issue, you can be sure the folks at DC will be smiling.

But to those people who are debating this -- on TV, in print, and online -- you need to be reminded of something: Superman is not real. He does not exist. He is a fictional character.

I-CON-ic Moments

2011-04-15T13:39:00.002-04:00

I'll be among the guests at I-CON 30 this weekend at Stony Brook University, the annual comics and sci-fi convention. It's a family affair this year, with Laurie, Chuck and Rebecca also on the guest list. All of us will be appearing on a variety of panels; in fact, I believe there is one point on Saturday afternoon where each of us is on a different panel!

I've lost track of how many I-CONs I've attended over the years. I was a regular attendee in the 80s and 90s when I was still working at DC Comics, but I've been there less frequently over the past decade.

Perhaps my favorite was the year I got to chat with Scott Carpenter, one of the seven Mercury astronauts who made space-flight history back in the 1960s. I actually had a connection with Carpenter. My Uncle Jimmy had been a NASA engineer and for a number of years had worked at Langley Air Force Base in Virginia, where the astronauts were also based. As a result, my cousin Peter went to school and was friends with Carpenter's son Marc, as well as the sons of Gus Grissom and Wally Schirra.

Though it was more than two decades later, Carpenter remembered my uncle and that the community they all lived in was named, coincidentally, Stony Brook. We'd been talking for awhile when we realized that we each had to appear on panels. And both of us wanted the chance to go to the men's room before them. I mentioned that we referred to that as Schwartz's Law: "Never go anywhere without going first."

Carpenter countered with his own story. "After I made my space flight, I was in a ticker-tape parade with (then-Vice President Lyndon) Johnson and he said to me, 'Now that you're famous, there are two things that you should never pass up. One is a free lunch and the other is the chance to go to the bathroom.'"

And that is what we now refer to as Lyndon Johnson's Corollary to Schwartz's Law.

**

"Back in the day" one of my regular activities at I-CON was an interview by Howard Margolin for his "Destinies" program on the Stony Brook radio station. (It still airs Friday nights at 11:30 on WUSB 90.1 FM.) We would talk about what was going on in the comic book business and projects I was working on. Howard would edit the recording and air it a few weeks later.

The one we did in 1988 took place shortly after I had returned from my visit to Ireland to see the prototype computer program a company called Grafascan was using to do comic book color separations. I told Howard that while this program would initially be used only to translate the traditionally hand-colored guides into a form that could be used for printing, I foresaw a time in the future when colorists would be "painting" the pages right on the computer screen. At the time, it sounded like something out of a science fiction movie.

After each interview, Howard would ask me if I wanted a copy of the recording and I would say yes. But neither of us was in any particular rush for it, so there were times when a few years would pass before got them. In 1993 Howard gave me a collection of four or five interviews, including the one we had done in '88.
As we were driving home that evening, Chuck popped the tape in and there I am, talking about how computer coloring was going to change the look of comics forever.

Well, five years later, it had happened and Chuck was just staring at me, asking, "When did you record this?"

Now, of course, twenty-three years after that interview, I'm sure there are plenty of comics fans who can't remember when the books weren't colored on a computer.

**

For those of you who will be there and are interested in tracking me down, I'll be at the following:

Comic Book Trivia - Saturday from 11:00am - 12:00pm in SAC 308 (with Chuck)

Would You Mess with Forbush Man if You Saw Him Walking Down the Street? - Saturday from 12:00pm - 1:00pm in SAC 308

Comics We Wish Were Collected in Trade - Saturday from 2:00pm - 3:00pm in SAC 308 (with my pal Bob Greenberger)

The Haunted Journey into the Secret Vault of Suspense - Saturday from 3:00pm - 4:00pm in SAC 306

Dwayne McDuffie Tribute - Saturday from 5:00pm - 6:00pm in SAC 306 (also with Bob Greenberger)

1970-1985: An Age Undreamed Of! - Saturday from 6:00pm - 7:00pm in SAC 308

"Ducky Birthday!"

2011-04-04T12:01:00.011-04:00

My sixth birthday might be the first that I have a specific memory of. That's because it snowed and the neighborhood kids who came to my party all showed up wearing boots. When the party ended and it was time for them to leave, none of them could remember whose boots were whose. (Well, they were a bunch of six-year-olds, after all!)

But the most memorable birthday was probably my 18th, back in the day when reaching that age meant you were old enough to drink but not old enough to vote. The events of that day back in 1969 were immortalized in a Hobart Pumpernickel story, one that contained very little variation from how it actually happened.
For your amusement, some excerpts from "Ducky Birthday, Dear Rob."

It was 6 PM on the first Friday during Easter vacation. It was also my birthday. To celebrate, I had spent most of the day sleeping.
The telephone rang. It was Peeved Matchklinger. "Hi, Rob," he said. "What are you planning on doing tonight?" "I don't know yet."
"Oh, well, Ellen and I are going to the drive-in and we wondered if you wanted to come along and take notes."
"I don't think so, Peeved. Janet asked me to come over and look at her brother's new goldfish."
"Oh, then do you want a lift?"
"That would be a nice thing for you to do," I replied.
"I'll be over at 8:00."
"Then I'll see you at about 9:30." "No, no. I'll be there on time as a special treat for your birthday."

At 8:15 I heard a car horn outside. I looked out the window but didn't see a car. Five minutes later, Peeved, having turned the car around, pulled up in front of the house. I walked out to the car.
Ellen Ribbonhouse handed me an already-opened bag of walnuts, some of which had been eaten. "Here's your birthday present," she said.
"Walnuts?" I asked.
"Why not?" asked Peeved.

"You're only fifteen minutes late," I said to Peeved.
"That means he's early," said Ellen. "When he's only fifteen minutes late, that means he's early."
Peeved smiled proudly and said, "Have a walnut."
I tried to crack the nut with my teeth. "It would have been nice if you had gotten me a nutcracker to go with them."
"George Washington could open walnuts with his hands," said Ellen.
I tried to open the walnut with my hands. It cracked open. Ellen and Peeved began to cheer about having a potential future President in the car with them.

A short time later we arrived at Janet Hoot's house. There were a number of cars parked nearby. "Looks like a lot of people came to see the new goldfish," said Peeved.
"No, Peeved," I said. "They all came because they think they're having a surprise party for me."
"It'll be a surprise," he said.
We walked into the house. I was surprised. I didn't know half the people there and they didn't seem to care that I had walked in.
Ginsy Alansberg walked up to me and started to laugh.
"What's the matter with you?" I asked. I handed him a walnut. "See what I got for my birthday? Walnuts! They gave me walnuts! Have a walnut."
I walked around the room giving everyone walnuts.
When I got back to Ginsy, he was still laughing. "Wait till you see what we got you."

I walked over to look at the birthday cakes. Ellen had baked one and had drawn a moose head on it with walnuts. Janet and Anita Gravel had baked the other one, a sponge cake they had cut in half to make two circles, each of which had "Rob" spelled on them with pecans. Janet had named the cakes "Mae West" because of their shape when they had come out of the oven. Somehow, I didn't think the two cakes looked at all like Mae West.

Ginsy came over and handed me a card. I read it. "Violets are blue, roses are red. They were out of primal chickens so we got you this instead."
Windy Malsh handed me a live duck. Harry Gerriton came down the stairs and handed me another duck.
"Two ducks?" I said.
"Not just two, said Ginsy, still laughing. "We had to buy six of them."
"Six ducks!!!!"
"Aren't they cute?" said Ginsy. Windy came down the stairs with the other four ducks in a box.
I looked at the duck in my right hand. "Oh, they're cute, all right. Do you know what this cute little duck just did in my hand?!?"
"Don't you just love them?"
"Ginsy, what am I going to do with six ducks?"
"Um... well, you could...um...I don't know."
I put the two ducks into the box and went to wash my hands. Then I went to the phone and called home. When my father answered, I said, "Six ducks. They got me six ducks."
"Live ducks?"
"Yup, six honest-to-goodness-real-live-ducks!"
"Talk to your mother."
My mother got on the phone. "Tell Ginsy that he can take care of the ducks for you and you'll come to visit them at his house."
"Ginsy, my mother says you should take care of the ducks and I can come visit them."
"Doesn't your mother like ducks?" asked Ginsy.
I said goodbye and hang up the phone.
"Don't you even want to take two of them?" asked Ginsy.
"My dog would think they were delicious."
"Let's go over to your house and show you mother how cute the ducks are and convince her to let you keep them."
"You go! I'm not going."
With that, Ginsy, Harry, Windy, Harry's sister Beenie, Amly Coldspleen, and Dynne Ledofsky left with two of the ducks for my house. Peeved and Ellen left too, saying that they would be back soon.
I put on my coat and went to visit Frodo Shnyder, who was sick and unable to attend the party. I walked down the street muttering, "Six ducks! They got me six ducks."

I arrived at Frodo's house and rang the doorbell. He opened the door and said, "Come on in. There's a phone call for you."
We went up to his room and I picked up the phone. It was Janet Hoot. "Where are you?" she asked.
"Well, since you called Frodo's house and I'm talking to you on his phone, where do you think I am?"
"What did you leave for?"
"I came to visit a sick friend."
"It's your party, you know."
"I know that. But half of my party went to my house to sell my mother six ducks. The other half are people I don't even know!"
"Are you coming back?"
"Of course I'm coming back. I want a piece of cake!"

When I got back to Janet's house, the party had returned. Ginsy came over to me and said, "Your mother loved the ducks and said you could keep all six."
"Where? At your house?"
"Actually," said Amly, "your dog loved them. He gobbled them up."
"My dog always wanted a pet," I said.

Janet had been lighting the candles on the cakes. There were eighteen of them in the moose cake and one in each half of Mae West.
Everybody sang "Happy Birthday."
Before the song was done, Janet was telling me to hurry up and blow out the candles. I think she was afraid the cake would blow up if the flames got too close to it.
Somebody told me to make a wish. I did and blew out the candles. The wish didn't come true. The six ducks were still there.

The ducks did not come home with me, nor did they go to "Ginsy's" house. They spent the night with "Harry." The next day, with my friends finally convinced that the ducks could not live in my bedroom, we brought them to a local dairy farm, where they joined cows, chickens, and other ducks. And lived long, happy, pro-duck-tive lives.

As a matter of fact, so have I.

Jury Duty

2011-03-25T12:25:00.004-04:00

I was first called for jury duty in the fall of 1980 and ended up sitting on a grand jury that met every Wednesday for about eight months. During that time, we heard testimony and were presented evidence regarding a number of cases and we handed down quite a few indictments. And while driving to the courthouse in Mineola during rush hour was not my favorite thing to do, it did provide a break from my daily train-and-subway commute to Manhattan.

That stint apparently got me some brownie points because it was more than a decade before I was called again. There were three summonses during the '90s and one in 2004: Three more to Mineola and one to Federal Court in Brooklyn. Only one resulted in my getting picked for a jury -- a civil case that was settled "out of court" while we were sitting the jury room on the day the trial was supposed to begin.

==

After you've been called for jury duty, you now get a six-year "pass" in Nassau County, so, since I'd last been there in 2004, it was not so surprising that I received a summons to appear this week. The way it works, you are assigned a number and you call each evening to see if you have to show up the following day. I was not needed on Monday, but my number came up for Tuesday.

I drove to Mineola and joined about 400 other folks in the main jury room. We first were shown a video (the same one they showed in 2004 and, possibly, earlier) with Ed Bradley and Diane Sawyer extolling the importance of our judicial system. The video includes a reenactment of a 12th century "trial by endurance" in which an accused man is bound and tossed in the river. If he floats to the surface, he is guilty; if he sinks, he is innocent. Happily for the accused and his family, he sank like a stone and was judged innocent before he drowned.

After the video, one of the judges came in and welcomed us. He reminded us of the importance of our presence and said that even if we were just sitting and waiting, we were providing an important service to the judicial system. When he meets with attorneys on the various cases assigned to him, he is often able to persuade them to come to a settlement simply by pointing out that there are juries waiting if they cannot.

Unlike 2004, when I spent most of the morning waiting to hear my name, I was the third person called for the first jury pool. Thirty-five of us were called and sent to a small room nearby. There, after attendance was taken, we were told that we were being bussed to one of the other buildings. With our "Juror" name tags now hanging around our necks, we boarded a bus and were driven... across the parking lot! (One can only presume using the bus is necessary to make sure we did not lose any slow walkers along the way.)

In the second building, the thirty-five of us were ushered into a room with a table and twelve chairs and the heat cranked up to "bake bread." The court officer who escorted us told us we would be there for only a couple of minutes, but since he had to close the door, we might want to open the window. In legal parlance, I guess "twenty-five" is considered "a couple" because that is how many minutes we were in there.

After we heard someone in the hall say, "Where are the other 35 jurors?" the door finally opened and we were told that we would be taken upstairs to a courtroom. Turned out that after we had arrived, a second group of thirty-five potential jurors had also been drawn, put into an identical room next door, and now all seventy of us were the pool for a case.

Unlike the courtrooms you see on TV and in movies which appear to have seating for a few hundred people, the one we were escorted to was long and narrow and, by the way, did not even have enough seats for seventy potential jurors. With some of us again standing, the judge introduced himself and the attorneys and gave us a quick overview of the case. Then, the first fourteen names were called and those people went to sit in the jury box. However, before anything else could happen, the judge and attorneys had an unrelated matter to deal with, so we all had to leave the courtroom and go back downstairs to the waiting room for "a few" minutes. Thankfully, the court officer decided that we did not have to be closed into the oven-room, so most of us milled around in the hallway instead.

It turns out that "a few" and "a couple" are interchangeable terms because it was another twenty-five minutes that we waited till we went back upstairs. With fourteen people now seated in the jury box, there were enough seats in the courtroom for the rest of us. The judge asked each of the jurors a few questions about prior jury service, involvement with law enforcement, and possible employment or personal conflicts since the case was scheduled to begin next week. As a result of these questions and with the agreement of both attorneys, four of the potential jurors were released and sent back to the main jury room where they would again wait for their names to be called for another pool. Four more of our original seventy were selected to replace them.

The assistant district attorney introduced herself, explained a little about the case, and then began questioning jurors. When she finished, the defense attorney took his turn, but, since he did not think he could finish before the lunch break at 12:30, we adjourned. We were told that we had to be back by 2:00 -- once again to the waiting room downstairs -- and then would be brought back up to the courtroom.

I had brought my lunch with me, so I walked back to the car and sat and ate it, reading the newspaper. It doesn't take me an hour and a half to eat lunch (or read the paper), so I strolled over to the main jury room and had a cup of coffee in the cafeteria. I called Laurie and the office. I went outside and watched the grass grow. At 1:50, I went back to the waiting room, joining the rest of the group.

It was "a few" (or maybe "a couple") of minutes before we were brought back to the courtroom. The defense attorney finished asking his questions of the fourteen folks in the box. Then the judge told us that we all had to go stand in the hall while he and the attorneys had a discussion. When we came back in, the judge reminded everyone that not being selected for the jury was not a reflection on their character, merely a decision reached by the attorneys as they tried to assemble a group that would be best for their case.

Of the fourteen people, three were chosen for the jury. The rest were sent home. The trio were sworn in and told they had to return next Monday at 10:00. Another fourteen names were chosen. Among them was a woman who was not fluent in English; neither attorney nor the judge felt she would be an appropriate juror, so they sent her home. (This after she had been there for six and a half hours.)

We had a rerun of the first round of questioning, with a couple more people being excused and replaced by the judge. Both attorneys had their time and we were again sent out in the hall. After another "couple/few" minutes, we were called back. This time, eight of the fourteen were selected.

Still needing one more juror and two alternates, they started the procedure for the third time. Fourteen more people. Fourteen more sets of questions by the judge and the attorneys. Another "couple/few" minutes in the hallway. When we returned to the courtroom, the dozen of us who had not yet had our names called were thankful that they'd managed to agree on their last three jurors so that we did not have to go through a fourth round.

By now it was almost 4:30, so we all had to go back to the main jury room to be officially dismissed. There a clerk collected our juror cards and scanned them into the computer and printed out our "thanks for coming" certificates. I went out to my car and drove home.

And that is how I did my part for our judicial system. I'm sure they'll be calling me again in 2017.

A Job for Superman

2011-03-17T14:05:00.003-04:00

In one of the many Superman stories I wrote, I had the Man of Steel save an island full of people from a tsunami. He used his heat vision to slice through its rock base and then lifted the entire island into the air above the onrushing wave. Once it passed, he lowered it back into place, with everyone and everything safe and intact.

I don't recall ever writing a story in which Supes dealt with a meltdown at a nuclear power plant, but it's a safe bet that at least one of my fellow writers put him in such a situation. And I'm sure he handled it as easily as he dealt with the tsunami, with no loss of life and minimal property damage.

And, of course, in Superman: The Movie, he stopped a massive earthquake along the San Andreas fault and then undid most of the damage by turning back time. (Something that he can't do in the comic books, by the way.)

Unfortunately, there is no Superman to save the people in Japan who have faced earthquake, tsunami, and now a potential nuclear meltdown. There are only the thousands of "ordinary" people performing search and rescue operations. And the exceptionally brave group of workers trying frantically to cool the reactor by any means possible.

It is easy for a writer to spin a tale in which the hero saves the day in the nick of time. In the real world, we know it doesn't always work out that way. So we can only hope and pray.

Shameless Self-Promotion

2011-03-11T11:26:00.006-05:00

I've been asked by a few folks who have enjoyed reading my novel why I haven't been promoting it more. Since I don't have any good answer to that question, here's a peek at the prologue to "The Junkyards of Memory." (The book is available at amazon.com. Or you can order a copy from lulu.com by clicking on the icon on the right side of this page... and even get a 15% discount!)

She could hear someone knocking, but she couldn’t tell whether it was nearby or far away. She turned her head, looking around. Doing so seemed to take hours of infinitely exhausting effort.

The door, she finally decided. Someone was knocking on the bathroom door. “Go away,” she tried to say, but the sounds that came from her mouth were nothing more than a garbled groan.

The knocking on the door became louder, more frantic, and was now accompanied by someone calling her name. “Go away,” she tried to say again, but the words were unintelligible even to her own ears.

If only she could get up, go to the door, and tell him that everything was all right. Then he would go back to watching TV or reading a magazine or whatever he should have been doing instead of bothering her. She wanted to get up and tell him to leave her alone, but she could not make her body obey.

She pushed down on the floor with her hands, hoping that this would somehow propel her to a standing position. Her hands -- or the floor -- were covered with something wet and sticky. She stared at her fingers, trying to decide what the red stuff all over them was.

The knocking on the door stopped. There was a brief rattling of the doorknob. Then there was no sound. She relaxed in her efforts to stand up. He had given up and gone away.

There was a loud “wham” and a jolt that she felt through her entire body. He must have slammed against the door, trying to force it open. Too bad for him, she thought. She was leaning against it.

She looked at her legs. They were pressed against the base of the toilet bowl. It would be almost impossible for him to get the door open while she was in this position on the floor.

She felt him hit the door again, not as hard this time, it seemed. He wasn’t going to get in, she thought. She stared at the mess on the floor around her, hoping somebody would eventually clean it up.

Suddenly, accompanying another loud “wham,” she felt herself falling sidewards away from the door as it was pushed open. Her face hit the sticky floor, her cheek right next to the magazine she’d scrawled on not so many minutes ago...

Casey

2011-03-07T09:02:00.002-05:00

Close on the heels of my posting about Yogi Berra, a Casey Stengel quote turned up in the New York Times obit for former player Greg Goossen: “Goossen is only 20, and in 10 years he has a chance to be 30.”

Casey saw both the sublime and the ridiculous during his career, managing the New York Yankees to seven World Series championships and then becoming the first manager of the "Amazin' Mets." For your amusement, some classics from "The Old Perfessor"...

On baseball and managing:

"I broke in with four hits and the writers promptly declared they had seen the new Ty Cobb. It took me only a few days to correct that impression."

"I was such a dangerous hitter I even got intentional walks during batting practice."

"You got to get twenty-seven outs to win."

"Without losers, where would the winners be?"

"Now there's three things you can do in a baseball game: You can win or you can lose or it can rain."

"You have to have a catcher or you'll have all passed balls."

"Good pitching will always stop good hitting and vice-versa."

"Managing is getting paid for home runs someone else hits."

"The secret of managing is to keep the guys who hate you away from the guys who are undecided."

"The Yankees don't pay me to win every day, just two out of three."

"We (the Mets) are a much improved ball club, now we lose in extra innings!"

"The way our luck has been lately, our fellas have been getting hurt on their days off."

"The Mets have shown me more ways to lose than I even knew existed."

Casey on those other two "most quotable players":

"He (Satchel Paige) threw the ball as far from the bat and as close to the plate as possible."

"They say he's (Yogi Berra) funny. Well, he has a lovely wife and family, a beautiful home, money in the bank, and he plays golf with millionaires. What's funny about that?"

On life:

"They told me my services were no longer desired because they wanted to put in a youth program as an advance way of keeping the club going. I'll never make the mistake of being seventy again."

"Most people my age are dead at the present time."

"Do you think I was born old?"

"It's wonderful to meet so many friends that I didn't used to like."

"When you are younger you get blamed for crimes you never committed and when you're older you begin to get credit for virtues you never possessed. It evens itself out."

"Never make predictions, especially about the future."

"There comes a time in every man’s life, and I’ve had plenty of them."

And my favorite, after the hapless 1962 Mets once again snatched defeat from the jaws of victory:

"Can’t anybody here play this game?"

On Wisconsin

2011-03-04T12:56:00.004-05:00

Speaking at the SUNY Farmingdale graduation a few years ago, then-Senator Hillary Clinton told the audience that whenever someone complained to her about a law, a tax, or other issue, her first question was, "Did you vote in the last election?" Not "Did you vote for me?" Just "Did you vote?" Far too often, she said, the answer was no. "If you are not going to exercise your right to elect the people who govern you, then you don't have the right to complain about what they do."

I've recently gotten a couple of emails from people I know, asking me to support the Wisconsin 14. These fourteen state senators, recognizing that they do not have the numbers to vote down the Governor's proposed budget, have decided that they can prevent its passage by not having a quorum present to vote on it and have been hiding out in Illinois for more than two weeks.

When, exactly, did they lose sight of how this country works? We elect our leaders by a majority vote. We pass laws by majority votes of those elected representatives. If the majority of voters are not happy with what their representatives do, then they have the opportunity to vote them out of office and replace them with people who will do what they want.

If the majority of the people in Wisconsin are, in fact, against the proposed budget -- and I am not here to debate the pros or cons of it -- then they should have elected enough state senators to vote it down. That there are nineteen senators ready to vote for it presumably means the majority of the state's voters are also in favor of it. If not, there should be a reckoning come the next election.

So suck it up, Wisconsin. You elected (or, by not bothering to vote, allowed to be elected) the governor and all 33 of your state senators. Tell your 14 that they need to do the job you put them in office to do, whether they like the outcome or not. After all, how would you have felt if, rather than playing the Packers in the Super Bowl, the Steelers had said, "Gee, we're going to lose. Let's go hide in Miami."

Yogi

2011-02-24T10:39:00.005-05:00

There's an amusing article in today's New York Times about Yogi Berra's arrival at the Yankees spring training camp and how former pitching great Ron Guidry has become Yogi's driver, constant companion and sidekick. (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/24/sports/baseball/24yogi.html?_r=1&ref=todayspaper) “It’s like I’m the valet,” said Guidry. “Actually, I am the valet.”

With Casey Stengel and Satchel Paige, Berra is one of the most quotable baseball players of all time. For your amusement, here are some of my favorite Yogi-isms.

On the game of baseball:

"Baseball is ninety percent mental and the other half is physical."

"How can you think and hit at the same time?"

"He hits from both sides of the plate. He's amphibious."

"I always thought that record would stand until it was broken."

"Slump? I ain't in no slump. I just ain't hitting."

"It gets late early out there."

"If people don't want to come out to the ball park, nobody's gonna stop 'em."

On life in general:

"When you come to a fork in the road, take it."

"A nickel ain't worth a dime anymore."

"Always go to other people's funerals, otherwise they won't come to yours."

"You've got to be very careful if you don't know where you are going because you might not get there."

"I'm not going to buy my kids an encyclopedia. Let them walk to school like I did."

"You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I'm not hungry enough to eat six."

"Nobody goes there anymore. It's too crowded."

"The future ain't what it used to be."

"You can observe a lot by just watching."

And the classics:

"It's like deja-vu all over again."

"I never said most of the things I said."

"It ain't over till it's over."

More Marketing 101

2011-02-22T10:35:00.002-05:00

Not surprisingly, the airwaves (Do we still call them airwaves, even though we actually get TV via cable, phone lines, or satellite?) this past weekend were full of ads for all sorts of Presidents Day sales. It seemed a particularly good time to rush out and buy a new car, at least according to the commercials.

But I do have to wonder about what the guys who buy the ad spots are thinking some times. One commercial that ran during Hawaii Five-O last night talked about the hot pricing available and advised us to hurry down because "the sale ends February 21st." Well, considering that this ad ran at 10:30 p.m. on February 21st, how many customers did they think they were going to attract?

**

In a similar "you missed the boat" moment, Dunkin' Donuts continued to run a commercial for its heart-shaped Valentine's Day donuts on the 15th and 16th of February. Nothing says "I love you" like a two-day-old donut!

**

A radio commercial for a local restaurant proclaims that in February we honor two presidents, Washington and Lincoln. In it, the announcer says that rather than be like Washington "who threw money across the river," we should come down and take advantage of their special lunch and dinner pricing.

The legend that our first President once threw a silver dollar across the Potomac River was told to demonstrate his strength, not that he didn't care about saving money. (For the record, from the MountVernon.org website: The Potomac River is over a mile wide and even George Washington was not that good an athlete! Moreover, there were no silver dollars when Washington was a young man. His step-grandson, George Washington Parke Custis, reported in his memoirs that Washington once threw a piece of slate “about the size and shape of a dollar” across the Rappahanock River near Fredericksburg, Virginia. The Rappahannock River at the site of the Washington family homestead today measures only 250 feet across, a substantial but perhaps not impossible distance to throw.)

I suppose if they were serving cherry pie for dessert, they would tell us to come in and eat it rather than chopping down trees like young George supposedly did.

**

Finally, what's the deal with the ads for the Cosmopolitan Resort in Las Vegas? Those are the ones that have slinky models wandering the halls with all sorts of animals -- kittens, puppies, bunnies, "was that a goat?" There's an older woman ("I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.") grabbing the butt of a studly young man and other, equally-odd-for-a-commercial visuals.

It looks more like a David Lynch-directed fever-dream from "Twin Peaks" than a commercial for a resort. Clearly, I'm not the intended audience, but I have to ask: Who is?

This and That

2011-02-18T13:21:00.005-05:00

We've had a sudden surge of spring-like weather, which is quite welcome after having piles of snow everywhere since the day after Christmas. And while the snow on our front lawn is gone and there are signs that there is still a swimming pool under all that white in the back yard, there are still plenty of piles around.

This did not stop people from doffing their coats and hats yesterday afternoon. I watched numerous kids on their walk home from the high school, almost all wearing light sweaters or sweatshirts and a few even in shirtsleeves. There were some joggers out and even a couple of folks riding bicycles.

We're in for another warm day today, with temps promised to be near 60 degrees. However, it is still February and it was only in the 40s this morning. Despite this, I drove past one brave young lad standing at the school bus stop, clad only in shorts and a t-shirt. Either he generates immense amounts of body heat or was just too stubborn to go back home and get a jacket.

**

Two articles in U.S. News Weekly had me shaking my head today:
One mentions a Fox News reporter who asked 26 Iowa voters about President Obama's religion. Ten of them incorrectly said he was Muslim.
Another cites a survey of likely Republican primary voters in which 51% of the respondents said that Obama was born abroad and an additional 21% said they were not sure. There is no mention of a follow-up question about how many of these people think Hawaii is a state.

**

A recent commercial I've seen a few times hawks a pill that is made from fish oil. What I recall from it is that this pill could increase the amount of bad cholesterol, cause upset stomachs, and change the way you taste food. Unfortunately (or, perhaps, fortunately), I don't remember what the pill is supposed to do.
So, I guess I don't need to ask my doctor if this pill is right for me.

Don't get me started on the other medication they advertise that has possible side effects that include heart attack, stroke and sudden death. The warning continues with something like, "Contact your physician immediately if you experience any of these side effects."
Yes, you can be sure I'm going to call my doctor if I die from using this stuff! I wonder if Verizon and AT&T have coverage in the afterlife?

**

Once upon a time, we celebrated George Washington's birthday on February 22nd. In the great changeover that moved almost all the national holidays to Mondays (the 4th of July being an exception, because, after all, it wouldn't make much sense to celebrate it on another date), Washington's Birthday morphed into "President's Day" on the third Monday of the month. As such, it is never celebrated on the 22nd. This year, though, we get as close to it as we can.

Even as I am writing this, there is a commercial on the radio for Lowe's that invites us to celebrate President's Day by saving Benjamins and Washingtons. The "Benjamins" presumably are $100 bills, which feature the image of Benjamin Franklin, who, though the Lowe's ad writer seems unaware, was never President of the United States.
In fact, the only Benjamin who was President was Benjamin Harrison, perhaps most notable because he was our 23rd president, having served his single term between our 22nd and 24th Presidents, both of whom were Grover Cleveland. He was also the only "grandson President" in our history; his grandfather was Old Tippecanoe, William Henry Harrison.

"Miss Smart's English Class"

2011-01-29T14:36:00.008-05:00

(Note: Read the entry "The Return of Hobart Pumpernickel" before reading this story.)

It was another typical school day in Clemont High. One of the things that made these typical days more interesting was Miss Smart's English class, where the students did anything but English.

One of the more prominent students in the class was Peeved Matchklinger, known for his stories, poems, brilliant insight into poetry and, most of all, jokes which were said to be some of the worst in the world.

Sitting next to Peeved was Opart Pumpkinpickle, known all over Clemont for his idiotic tests based on happenings in the school. Opart was not the boy's real name, but everybody used it because no one could remember what his real name was.

Some other students in the class were Rootie Tootus, who spent the period sniffing glue, Whatda Heck, president of the Class of '69, Witty Goldenboig, whose jokes were almost as bad as those of Peeved, and Jowl Saltpepper, who got A's on book reports without reading the books. (The roll book also lists a student named Pret Zell, but since he has not been to class in six weeks, it is assumed that he has dropped out.)

Since it was Wednesday, the class knew that Miss Smart would have something special for them to do. On these rare occasions, the class got to read a poem and analyze it. The excitement was so great that three students fainted as soon as Miss Smart started to hand out the dittoed poem.

"Today," said Miss Smart, "we will read a poem from The Moose, the magazine that I am advisor to, and I can tell you that it is up to the usual standards of The Moose. It's..."

"Morbid!" said Charvey Makeups, who was about to push Mark Shoestringman out the emergency window.

"Well... yes, it is," said Miss Smart, "but I was going to say that it was written by one of your fellow students. The poem is called 'Spitting' and it was written by Opart Pumpkinpickle."

Opart groaned. The poem was the eighty-seventh in a series. The first was "Whistling," which was followed by "Singing," "Dancing," "Humming," "Running," "Jumping," ""Glooping" and others too numerous to mention.

Miss Smart read the poem to the class and then asked the students what they thought the deep inner meaning was.

"Obviously," said Peeved, "it's just what it seems to be. It's about a man who has been spitting all his life, even though he knows it's a bad habit. Then one day it pays off when his house catches fire and he puts it out before the fire department arrives."

"I disagree," said Clark Carmel. "I think the spitting represents the man's attempts to rid himself of his troubles, but he finds that they are always there, like the saliva in his mouth. Finally, he sees that even troubles can be helpful."

Dynne Ledofsky raised her hand, was called upon, and said, "Why do we have to read this dumb poem? Why can't we read one by Larrienne?"

"No," yelled Charvey. "I think we should read this. When it comes to poetry, Opart Pumpkinpickle is another Ronald Reagan."

"But Ronald Reagan doesn't write poetry," objected Witty Goldenboig.

""Like I said, Opart is another Ronald Reagan."

"Thanks a lot, Charvey," said Opart.

During this entire conversation, Miss Smart had been asking the class to be quiet. She finally got their attention by tossing her desk through a window. "I think we should ask Opart if he wants the class to analyze his poem."

"I hate poetry," said Opart. "Can I go home and watch The Fugitive?"

"Yeah," said Whatda Heck. "Why do we have to read any poems at all?"

"Because I want to," said Miss Smart.

"That sounds like a dumb answer," said Whatda.

"No," said Peeved. "That's a Smart answer!"

The class groaned.

Suddenly, Arc Rosenblerb woke up and said, "Hey, Miss Smart! Are you related to that guy on TV, Get Smart?"

"Yes, he's my third cousin," said the teacher.

This brought new life to the class. Everybody started to discuss TV shows, just as Mr Slider, the assistant principal, came in. "Don't mind me," he told Miss Smart, "I've just come to take a nap."

"He really comes because he likes the designs on the ceiling," whispered Peeved.

The class sat in silence for ten minutes, waiting for Mr Slider to fall asleep. The silence was broken when Rootie dropped his loose leaf as he was getting a new tube of glue. Miss Smart walked over and told him not to sniff it while Mr Slider was there, so Rootie got up, took the administrator by the coat and tossed him out the door. Then he sat down and began sniffing.

Finally, the bell rang, ending the period.

As the students raced out the door, Miss Smart announced there would be a test the following day on the first eight hundred pages of The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich. (She had given them more than enough time to read it, three days.) Nobody cared. The class was over for the day. They would worry about the test two minutes before the start of class the next day.

Miss Smart sighed. "I should have joined the Peace Corps," she thought to herself as she left the classroom.

The Return of Hobart Pumpernickel

2011-01-29T12:32:00.005-05:00

Following the popularity of Hobart Pumpernickel in Mr. Lerz's World History class in my sophomore year, it was inevitable that Hobart would return when the new school year began. This time, however, there were three venues for Mr. Pumpernickel's mirth: Miss Schwimmer's American History class, Mrs. Cox's Spanish class, and Miss Hart's English class.

From October, 1967 through January, 1968, not a week went by without a Hobart test turning up in one class or another. Like Mr. Lerz, all three teachers were willing to devote a bit of class time to reading them aloud. (In fact, it was not until I delivered a test to Mr. Lesowitz's math class that Hobart's efforts were rejected. Despite cajoling from my classmates that he read it, the teacher said, "This is a waste of our time" and tossed it in the wastepaper basket.)

As the first half of the school year was winding down, I realized that I had worked myself into a rut. Questions were becoming repetitive and I was producing tests simply because it had become part of the routine. So I stopped. Cold turkey. Much to the dismay of Hobart's fans, there were no more pages left on teachers' desks.

**
Reprinted from Isn't This Ridiculous?, "published" in 1968:

One day in February, when I had nothing better to do, I wrote a story about my English class entitled "Miss Smart's English Class." (Clever title, isn't it?) I took the story to school and showed it to Miss Hart, Miss Smart's real-life counterpart. She read it to the class. The class liked it. Hobart had struck again!
Soon, there were more stories. Three superheroes, the Snap, the Crackle, and the Pop, made their debuts, along with Hobart Pumpernickel, Master Detective. (No relation to my alter-ego. In the stories, Rob Boozakis uses the pen-name Opart Pumpkinpickle.) In two plays, King Hobart and his Knights of the Lunch Table fought the evil Queen of Harts and her Knights of Evil, and the staff of the school's illiterary magazine. The Moose, had adventures with their advisor, Miss Smart.
Not satisfied with just writing stories, I produced an issue of The Moose and two issues of the Clemont Boracle, the school newspaper. I made up a Regent's exam about all the stories, presented the Hobart Awards in Miss Hart's class, and held graduation ceremonies at the end of the year.
Mr. Pumpernickel's fame spread throughout the school. He was not only listed as a member of the staff of The Muse (the real-life Moose), but he also had a short story printed in the issue. Hobart's birthday was even noted during the school announcements one morning.

**
As you've probably inferred, everyone and every place in Hobart's stories had their names changed "to protect the innocent and keep the guilty from suing me." For example, Elmont, New York became Clemont (pronounced CLEE-mont) New Pork and Mrs. Cox became Mrs. Clox. Transpositions changed Gerry Hariton, Alan Ginsberg, Dan Raider and yours truly into Harry Gerriton, Ginsy Alansberg, Ray Dander and Rob Boozakis. Some were word plays, such as Gary Hecht and Bob Szel becoming Whatda Heck and Pret Zell and Miss Schwimmer becoming Miss Sinker (who would remind her students that they would either "sink or schwim" in her class). And then there were the totally off-the-wall ones, like Steve Machtinger becoming Peeved Matchklinger and Harvey Jacobs becoming Charvey Makeups.

During the remainder of my junior year, I wrote more than two dozen Hobart stories -- tales of students who gained super-powers and battled super-villains, detective stories that parodied Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot, and recountings of actual events that required little, if any, exaggeration. All were warmly received and they set the stage for senior year... and a future blog installment.

Hobart Pumpernickel's Tests

2011-01-09T13:13:00.002-05:00

As I mentioned in my prior posting, Hobart Pumpernickel first made his mark in the world of Elmont Memorial High School by making up tests about what went on in Mr. Lerz's World History class. Following (and with explanations where necessary) are a sampling of those questions.

1) Mr. Lerz does not like England because a) James Bond is supposed to be better than American spies b) the Queen didn't send him a Christmas card c) Rolls Royce engines are used in MIGs d) the Beatles have more money than he does.
The correct answer is c. Rolls Royce sold engines to the Russians for use in their fighter planes which, in turn, could be used against us in a war. Therefore, England was not a true ally of the U.S.

2) Mr. Lerz knew a) a woman who flew B-17s in World War II b) Mrs. Richard Kimble c) Abraham Lincoln d) the man who solved the riddle of the Sphinx
The correct answer is a. It was not until 1977 that the women of the WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots) were recognized as military personnel rather than civilians. Prior to that, their service in ferrying bombers across the Atlantic was all but ignored... but Mr. Lerz made sure we knew about it.

3) According to Mr. Lerz, Columbus had a brother named a) Irving b) Lerz c) Bartholomew d) Hobart.
The correct answer is c. Yet another little known bit of history that was added to the curriculum by Mr. Lerz, the career of Christopher Columbus' brother.

4) Mr. Lerz got rid of his dog because a) he doesn't know how to make Gravy Train b) his son was sick c) cats kept chasing it up a tree d) it kept taking the newspaper and giving it back to the newsboy
The correct answer is b, but I don't remember what his son being sick had to do with the dog. What I do remember is we often heard that the dog was a Basenji, a breed that came from Africa, which did not bark like other canines.

5) According to Mr. Lerz, the greatest general of all was a) Grant b) Lee c) Motors d) Principles
The correct answer is b. Mr. Lerz would regularly tell us that the South would rise again.

6) Mr. Lerz says he has $10,000 in a) yen b) green stamps c) Confederate money d) apple turnovers
The correct answer c. In light of the previous answer, he obviously wanted to be prepared.

7) Mr. Lerz had a buddy there when a) MacArthur returned to the Philippines four times b) King Kong fell off the Empire State Building c) the Indians wiped out Custer at Little Big Horn d) a train wreck freed Richard Kimble en route to the death house
The correct answer is a. According to Mr. Lerz, General MacArthur's historic march up the beach was done four times so that the newsreels and photographers would get the perfect shots.

8) Mr. Lerz's brother was a) rented to Avis by Hertz b) loaned to NASA by General Electric c) sold by his mother to the New York Mets d) given to the Indians for Manhattan
The correct answer is b. I don't recall that Mr. Lerz ever told us what his brother did for GE, but it was something the space program needed done.

9) Mr. Lerz says that Richard the Lionhearted did a stupid thing. What was it? a) He died. b) He got married. c) He changed his name to Lerz. d) He lost his Ice-Blue Secret.
The correct answer is a. As Mr. Lerz explained it, Richard, sans his chain mail, was walking around a small, virtually unarmed castle his army has besieged when he was shot by a boy with a crossbow. The wound eventually proved fatal.

10) When Mary, Queen of Scots, was being executed, the axeman had to make two chops because he didn't go all the way through the first time. When she heard this, Barbara said, a) "Who was Mary, Queen of Scots?" b) "Was she still alive at half-time?" c) "Will this be on the final?" d) "Did they have an intermission?"
As you already know if you've read the previous installment about Hobart, the correct answer is b.

There were many more questions, quite a few of which were based on comments and actions of my classmates. The humor relied very much on "You had to be there" and, as such, they don't stand the test of time. But, buoyed by the popularity in Mr. Lerz's class, Hobart returned when the next school year began... and that is where we will pick up next time.

Hobart Pumpernickel - Year 1

2011-01-04T10:38:00.002-05:00

I took World History in 10th grade. Not that I had a choice in the matter; it was a required course and included a NY State-mandated Regents exam at the end. As I recall, we devoted a lot of class time to pre-20th century history. We barely touched upon World War I and I don't think any World History class in those years ever made it all the way to World War II. Makes me wonder how far they get now, with another forty years of history having taken place.

The class was noteworthy for a number of reasons, not the least of which was that the teacher, Mr. Lerz, was a font of odd and interesting historical facts. For example, when we were studying the history of ancient Egypt, Mr. Lerz advised us that that famous Queen of the Nile pronounced her name "Clee-oh-PAY-trah." He never explained how he knew this, though he alluded to having had a fling with her and, therefore, knew her on a first name basis.

When we got to Leif Eriksson -- Mr. Lerz insisted the spelling in the textbook, Ericson, was incorrect because Leif's father was Erik, not Eric -- we were advised that the Norwegian explorers called themselves "VEE-kings." When someone asked why the Minnesota football team did not pronounce it that way, Mr. Lerz replied that none of them had ever been in his class or they would know better.

And when our journey through the years brought us to the execution of Mary, Queen of Scots, Mr. Lerz told us that it took the executioner two swings with the axe to chop her head off. This prompted one of the girls in the class to ask, "Was she still alive at half-time?" Everyone started to laugh as one of the boys said something about a marching band and cheerleaders parading through while the axeman got ready for the second swing. But it turned out to be much more than an amusing anecdote.

In fact, it was that moment in World History class in the autumn of 1966 that resulted in the creation of something that virtually every student in the Class of 1969 remembers: Hobart Pumpernickel.

**

Hobart Pumpernickel was the 426th member of the 425-student Class of '69 at Elmont Memorial High School. By the time graduation came some two and a half years later, he had had a regular column in the school newspaper, stories published in the literary magazine, and his photograph in the yearbook. But who he really was remained a secret to many throughout his career.

Mr. Lerz's first encounter with Hobart came the day after the Mary, Queen of Scots incident. It came in the form of a multiple-choice test with all the questions based on the Lerz version of history. A few of the students, who had seen the test earlier in the day, encouraged him to read it aloud to the entire class. Had he refused, or crumpled it up and tossed in the trash as another teacher did in a similar situation a year later, Hobart's career might have been quite short-lived. But Mr. Lerz enjoyed a good joke, even if it was at his own expense, and so he read it.

Through the rest of the school year, Hobart's handiwork turned up on Mr. Lerz's desk from time to time. While a number of the students knew from the very beginning who Hobart was, Mr. Lerz did not find out until the last day of class, some six months later. Oh, he was pretty sure he knew who Hobart really was and would make comments about it, much to the amusement of those students who knew better. It only after reading the last question of The Hobart Pumpernickel Regents Exam that he realized his error.

That question read:

Hobart Pumpernickel is really
a) a complete idiot
b) an absolute genius
c) Bob Rozakis
d) all of the above

"Holiday Message"

2010-12-24T13:54:00.005-05:00

I wrote the following in 1967. It appeared in The Muse, Elmont Memorial High School's literary magazine...

Holiday Message

"Good morning, this is Mr. Carver speaking. As you know, this is the last day of school before the holidays, and, as principal of the high school, I am called upon to make the traditional holiday greeting to the student body. What I have to say is this. While you are enjoying the holidays, giving and receiving gifts, visiting with friends and relatives, and ringing in the New Year, take a moment to think about what these holidays symbolize -- 'Peace on Earth' and 'Brotherhood Among Men.'

"One other announcement this morning. There will be an air raid drill following the first period this morning."

***
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

Here Comes Santa Claus

2010-12-11T12:13:00.003-05:00

As I write this, our local volunteer fire department is having part of their annual "Santa Claus Parade." With sirens and horns blaring and lights flashing, they drive all their equipment up and down every street in the town. The last truck pulls a flatbed that carries Santa Claus and his sled. They have been doing this for a number of years now, so we have gotten used to the idea that it is not the end of the world nor is an entire neighboring block being consumed in flames... at least not in the last couple of weekends before Christmas. (Were an actual fire to break out, one wonders what might happen to Santa. Would he be left to fend for himself? More likely that he is actually one of the firefighters and would be manning a hose in full suit and beard.)

Back in the days when Chuck and Sammi were little and even in years before they were born, I would dress in a Santa suit and pay a Christmas Eve visit to children on our block and those of various friends of ours.

One year, I had to stop and gas up the car. I'm sure you can imagine the surprise of two small children in a car at the next pump when they saw Santa pumping gas. I told them that the reindeer were not feeling well, gave each a candy cane and went on my way.

Another time, the son of one of our friends was just on the cusp of not believing in Santa any more. He was convinced that the Santa who showed up at his house was, in fact, his uncle. Of course we arranged it so I arrived...and then said uncle walked in right behind me.

For a few years when Chuck and Sammi were young, we used to spend part of Christmas Eve with our friends Merrill and Marty and their kids. Some time during the evening, I would slip away to their garage, change into the Santa suit and come in the back door. None of the four kids seemed to notice that I was missing whenever Santa arrived, but one year their daughter Jessica mentioned that "Santa has the same kind of shoes as Uncle Bob." (After that, my switch included changing to a pair of black boots.)

It's been a number of years since I last donned the suit and beard, but they wait dutifully in the cedar closet for the next time I'll need to declare, "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night."

The Fudge Man

2010-11-30T12:28:00.003-05:00

As I mentioned in a prior posting about my blood and platelet donations, there is a regular group of folks I see when I visit the Blood Center. In addition to the phlebotomists who have the Saturday shift, there are the men and women who, like me, spend a couple of hours every month making a donation. Some I only know by sight, others I know by first name. And then there's the Fudge Man.

A few years back, after I finished up my platelet donation, I saw that, in addition to the usual assortment of cookies, crackers, and trail mix in the canteen, there were a couple of plates with cut-up bars of fudge. When I asked about it, Debbie, the appointment coordinator, said that it had been brought by one of the other regulars.

Well, if making a blood donation is a good excuse for eating Lorna Doones for breakfast, it is a great excuse for having fudge. And we're talking really tasty, creamy fudge!

It was a few months before my donation schedule again coincided with that of the Fudge Man, but on the day it did, I noticed that there were a lot of familiar faces among the donors. It turned out that I was a latecomer to the group who were scheduling their appointments so they could be there for fudge. Over the next couple of years, I was pretty much in sync with him and more often than not had the opportunity to enjoy such flavors as eggnog, pumpkin pie, Oreo cookie, cheesecake and , of course, all manner of chocolate varieties.

This past Saturday, after I finished my platelet donation, I was sitting in the canteen with Steve (one of the regulars whose first name I do know) and another donor. When I mentioned that I hadn't seen the Fudge Man in awhile, Steve told me that he had died a few months ago. He and some of the other regulars found out on a Saturday morning when the Fudge Man was scheduled to donate that he had passed away in his sleep at the age of 48. That morning, Steve and a couple of others did a "triple," donating three units of platelets each. "We decided that we had to make up for the fact that he wasn't there."

Steve pointed at the two signs on the wall in the canteen, a list of all the people who have made 75 or more platelet donations. "He told me," Steve said, "that his goal was to get his name on that sign. And he did."

No, it doesn't say "Fudge Man." His name was John Roach. Most of us knew nothing about his family, his job, his life. But he was one of our Saturday morning regulars. And though we only saw him for a couple of hours every month or so, we will miss him.

Marketing 101

2010-11-12T08:42:00.002-05:00

Now that Election Day has passed, the barrage of political TV commercials has ended and we are back to ads that are just trying to persuade us to buy things.

Though I prefer to speed through the ads when I have recorded shows -- or read or wander away when I'm watching something live -- there are a few that are quite entertaining. Top of the list to get me to watch are the E*Trade ads featuring the talking babies; they are cleverly written and, frankly, funnier than some of the programs. (That does not mean I think they should try to turn them into a TV series, like they tried with those GEICO cavemen a couple of years ago.)

Another current commercial shows two large rocks are having a conversation. Unlike the AmEx commercials of a year or two ago that featured a variety of objects that seemed to be either smiling or frowning, it takes a moment to realize that there are "faces" in these stones. In any case, they are discussing how they would drink Sierra Mist Natural if they could actually drink soda.
I'm not sure who thought up the idea that rocks would drink soda, but it does make for a memorable commercial. What I find amusing, however, is how they are selling a high-calorie soda as an "all-natural" beverage, highlighting that it is made with only natural sugar and contains no artificial sweeteners. But I suppose rocks don't have to worry about obesity.

Then there's the AT&T commercial that depicts a street scene with a number of people after an automobile accident. Everyone in it is texting on their cell phones. The tag line of this ad is something like "AT&T saves you from your cell phone so you can get back to your life." Well, how exactly does using your cell phone save you from it? I'm guessing they are trying to say that theirs works faster so you can send your text messages more quickly. But wouldn't that just mean people would text even more? Come to think of it, I guess that is what AT&T would really want.
As far as cellphones, I guess I'm a Luddite since I have one that only makes phone calls. It can receive a text message, but if it has the capability of sending one, I've never used it. And there is nothing so important in my email that I need to read it before I am at home or work and sitting at the computer. I mean, really, if you have something vital to tell me, call me -- the thing is a telephone!
But I'm truly baffled by why anyone would want to be able to download a TV show or a movie to their phone. On the one hand, we're being told to buy giant-screen HD-TVs that show us every pore on a person's face and on the other we should buy a phone with a 2-inch screen so we can watch the latest blockbuster films.

And, finally, there are the commercials featuring the pre-teen boy who talks about how his parents are "lame" because they don't own a fancy SUV. What is this? Years of peer pressure ads -- you want to have a better car than your friends and neighbors -- were not enough? Now we should spend on a vehicle with high-tech video and sound systems so our kids won't be embarrassed by us? It is a sad state of affairs for any parent who has to buy a showy car to gain the respect of his kids.

It Must Be True Because It's on the Internet

2010-11-08T14:57:00.007-05:00

I was copied on an email this morning...

"If each person sends this to a minimum of twenty people on their address list, in three days, all people in The United States of America would have the message. I believe this is one proposal that really should be passed around.
THIS WILL CURDLE YOUR BLOOD AND CURL YOUR HAIR"
[There then appears a photo of President Obama, standing on an airport runway, holding a book.]
"The name of the book Obama is reading is called: The Post-American World, and it was written by a fellow Muslim. "Post" America means the world After America ! Please forward this picture to everyone you know, conservative or liberal. We must expose Obama's radical ideas and his intent to bring down our beloved America !"

So, according to the originator of this email, the President is getting his plan on how to "bring down our beloved America" from a book? Or is reading books one of the President's radical ideas?

And talk about judging a book by its cover, a quick check at Amazon revealed the following about this "radical" tome...
"This is not a book about the decline of America, but rather about the rise of everyone else." So begins Fareed Zakaria's important new work on the era we are now entering. Following on the success of his best-selling The Future of Freedom, Zakaria describes with equal prescience a world in which the United States will no longer dominate the global economy, orchestrate geopolitics, or overwhelm cultures. He sees the "rise of the rest"—the growth of countries like China, India, Brazil, Russia, and many others—as the great story of our time, and one that will reshape the world. The tallest buildings, biggest dams, largest-selling movies, and most advanced cell phones are all being built outside the United States. This economic growth is producing political confidence, national pride, and potentially international problems. How should the United States understand and thrive in this rapidly changing international climate? What does it mean to live in a truly global era? Zakaria answers these questions with his customary lucidity, insight, and imagination.
Fareed Zakaria is the editor of Newsweek International and writes a weekly column on international affairs and hosts "Fareed Zakaria GPS" for CNN. He the author of the New York Times bestsellers The Future of Freedom and The Post-American World. Zakaria lives in New York City.

Clearly, the person who started this email has not read the book nor even checked to see what it is about.

A little further research about Obama's "fellow Muslim" Zakaria turned up the following...
He was born in Mumbai, India to a Konkani Muslim family, though his religious upbringing was secular, including the singing of Christian hymns and the celebration of both Hindu and Muslim holidays. He earned his B.A. from Yale University and his Ph.D. in Political Science from Harvard.

One final bit of research revealed that the photo was taken and first appeared in May, 2008!

**

What's next? A photo of the President reading Doctor Doolittle to his daughters and it's really the secret behind his healthcare plan?

Lower Taxes? Let's Have NO Taxes!

2010-11-04T09:38:00.004-04:00

With Election Day done and the victories of a new crop of mostly Republicans, we're being treated to a number of speeches about how this is a mandate that the American people don't want "big government," that they want government spending reduced and taxes cut. I would disagree. The only part of it that people really want is lower taxes. In fact, you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who would be unhappy about paying less tax.

So, how about paying no taxes? Let's see a slate of candidates next year who promise to reduce taxes to 0% across the board. And they'll cut government spending to zero as well. That means the government will be made up of volunteers, since none of them will be receiving a salary. Aren't most of them millionaires anyway? Why do they even need a salary? And for those who aren't independently wealthy, not a problem; all these candidates seem to drum up contributions to run their campaigns, so they should be able to get their constituents to kick in a few bucks each towards their well-being.

Okay, so now we have all our leaders working for free. But we're no longer spending any money, so all the support people -- assistants, maintenance people, technicians, drivers, etc. -- will either have to also work for free or seek other employment. Not that they would have much to do, anyway. The government will no longer be paying for electricity, water or HVAC, so the offices won't be very hospitable. There also won't be any expenditures for office supplies, postage, printing and copying, or internet connections.

Well, who cares? The government doesn't actually do anything anyway.

**
With government spending ended, let's see what else will happen...

Our military forces around the globe had better make do with what they have. There will be no more fuel purchases for planes, ships, trucks, jeeps, etc.; when the tanks run dry, those things are staying wherever they stop. Those men and women in war zones would do well to ration bullets because there won't be any more coming. Oh, and they'd better start figuring out how they're going to get home.

Senior citizens, you've seen your last Social Security check. Not that there would be any way to get them to you, since there's no one paying the postage. And you better get used to paying full price for medical treatments because Medicare isn't going to be around to subsidize them. Forget about the new government health coverage plan, the old government health coverage plan, and any other government health coverage plan. Gone, gone and gone.

All the traffic lights and street lights will be turned off because no one is paying that electric bill. Unless someone volunteers to direct traffic, expect perpetual gridlock; it is unlikely that members of the police department will work for free. And that's scary since the prisons will have to be closed and everyone in them will have to be set free. (Or, I suppose, we could just leave them locked in there to rot; they're criminals, after all.)

But wait, there won't be any more criminals. The court system will also be shut down because no one is paying for it. No judges (unless they want to work for free like other elected officials), no district or state's attorneys, no public defenders, no trials... so no one will be found guilty of a crime.

Got kids in school? Not any more! There's no tax money to keep the schools open so your kids will be home every day. That's okay, right? With the money you're saving by not paying taxes, you can hire a babysitter. Or maybe even a now-unemployed teacher to tutor them.
Don't think about leaving them home unattended, though. They might play with matches or leave the stove on. If the house catches fire, alas, odds are there won't be anyone coming to put it out.

There will be good news for the unemployed, however. Even though you won't be able to collect unemployment checks any more, with the cuts in government spending there will be no one enforcing the Minimum Wage laws. That means employers can pay you whatever they want, cutting wages to lower than those paid in foreign countries and bringing back all those jobs that have been outsourced. Lower pay, sure, but you won't have to pay any taxes on it!
Oh, by the way, you had better be careful on the job because there will also be no one enforcing any OSHA safety regulations and no one will be paying disability if you get hurt.

Finally, there is the government debt. Thirteen trillion dollars ($13,000,000,000,000) worth. When we stop paying taxes, there will be no money to pay the interest on it let alone pay it down. What happens if you stop making payments? The holders of your debt foreclose; they take your property. Since China holds quite a bit of our debt, maybe they will accept Hawaii as a settlement. Or California. Or both.

**

Is what I'm proposing ridiculous? Of course it is. We can't do away with government and the costs of everything our taxes pay for without throwing the entire nation (and the world) into utter chaos.

There are plenty of our tax dollars being spent on things we might think are wasteful, but it all got approved because our elected officials make bargains in order to get things done. A highway in South Carolina is voted for so that six park rangers can be hired to watch for fires in Montana and safety laws are enforced on a job site in Vermont. Same thing on a smaller scale in your home state, your county, your town.

Everybody needs things, everybody wants things, and, ultimately, everybody should have to pay for them. Period.

Trick or Treat

2010-11-01T13:56:00.004-04:00

Yesterday, as in pretty much every year past, we handed out comic books rather than candy to the trick-or-treaters who came to our door. Unlike previous years when the holiday has fallen on the weekend, the turnout was relatively light. We had fewer than forty kids come to the door.

Yes, I'm sure even forty sounds like a lot to some of you. One of the women I work with said she had only one kid ring the doorbell. But we've had Halloween Saturdays and Sundays in past years where we've given out more than 100 comics; those were the days when, despite the fact there were no cellphones, word spread quickly among the kids that there was a house giving away comic books.
One year, there was a kid who was such a big comics fan that he kept going home and changing his costume so he could come back and get another. When I finally told him that recognized him and that he had to stop, he was startled. But I made his day when I told him that if he came back the next day, I would give him whatever was left over.

Back in the days when I was still working at DC Comics and they published such books as Ghosts, The Witching Hour and House of Mystery, it was fairly easy to amass a group of appropriate books to distribute. In more recent years, however, as even the mainstream DC titles have become a bit too graphic, I've limited what I give out to the "kids' line" of titles, supplementing what I have with issues of such titles as Animaniacs and Heathcliff that are left over from the days when Chuck and Sammi were young.

Among yesterday's highlights:
* A little boy dressed as Superman was thrilled to get an issue of Super Friends with the Man of Steel on the cover. I got the feeling he knew Superman only from TV cartoons and had no idea there was a print version.
* Five teenaged boys, apparently costumed as teenaged boys, were surprised to get issues of Tiny Titans instead of candy. "Bet you thought you were going to get something to eat," I said.
One of them replied, "Yeah!"
"Don't eat these," I warned. "The staples can get caught in your digestive tract."
* A man dressed in costume was carrying his infant son who was asleep in a pumpkin-snuggy. I think it will be a few years before the child will be reading the issue of Looney Tunes. And I presume it will be Dad who will be eating the candy rather than saving it till Junior has teeth.
* The copies of Animaniacs and Heathcliff I gave out yesterday were older than the kids who received them.

My favorite Halloween story of all, though, happened a few years ago. After I dropped a comic book into a little boy's bag, he looked at it and ran back to his mother on the sidewalk, shouting, "Mom, he gave us mail!"

The High Cost of Being a Comics Fanboy

2010-10-27T13:23:00.002-04:00

"There are two types of comic book fans: pencil-necked geeks and fat fanboys. The pencil-necked geeks spend all of their money on comic books; the fat fanboys spend most of their money on comic books and the rest on Cheez Doodles."

One of the topics I touched upon briefly during my talk at Hofstra last week was the high price of comic books these days. I pointed out that one thing that was rising as quickly as the cost of a college education was that of collecting comic books.

With a number of their books selling for $3.99 each these days and sales of some in the mid four digits, DC and Marvel recently announced that they were cutting prices to $2.99 (with a corresponding reduction in the number of story pages). DC will be releasing 56 comic books in December and it will cost $192.44 to buy all of them; in January, they will also release 56 books, at a cost of $171.44. Ninety-three Marvel comics in December will cost $353.07; in January they'll have only 75 books, with a total cost of $273.25. The grand total for every DC and Marvel comic for the two month-period: $990.20!

Jump into the time machine to the same period in 1960 (when comic books all cost a dime) and you'll find that DC released 28 titles in each of the two months while Marvel -- which was still technically Atlas Comics at the time -- had eleven titles in December and nine in January. The cost of buying all 76 of those books: $7.60, roughly the price of two and a half present-day books.

Okay, I'm playing a little fast and loose with the numbers and ignoring inflation, so let's tighten the look a bit. Fifty-six DC comics in 1960/61 cost a total of $5.60. That same number of books in December 2010 will cost $192.44, more than 34 times the cost half a century ago. With the reduced price in January, the fifty-six are only 30 times more!

Back in 1960, at the very beginning of my comics-collecting, my allowance was 25c a week. If I spent all of it on comics, I could get ten books a month. More likely, however, I was buying six or seven and spending the rest of the money on candy bars or baseball cards. Ten comic books today would cost between $30 and $40, but how many nine-year-olds get an allowance between $7.50 and $10 a week to enable them to make such a purchase? Is it any wonder that sales have dwindled to abysmal numbers?

And I'm not even mentioning all the hardcover and trade paperback reprint collections DC and Marvel publish every month. With those prices ranging from $10 to upwards of $75, the cost of buying everything would easily outpace the monthly rent or mortgage many people pay.

Were I a nine-year-old today, would I become a comics fan? Like most of today's potential new readers who can't afford the habit, I'd have to say, "Probably not."

More Politics as Usual

2010-10-26T13:11:00.003-04:00

In the past week, there have been a couple of political campaign ads that, if you listen carefully, you can't help but say, "Hunh?"

One that I've heard on the radio this week condemns a candidate for voting against the cost-of-living increase on Social Security and also voting against extending tax cuts. This strikes me as a damned-if-you-do/ damned-if-you-don't situation. If you want to spend more money, you need to increase taxes; if you want to cut taxes, you'd better not spend more money. You can't have it both ways.
The ad goes on to say how the candidate is working against our senior citizens by denying them their Social Security increase as well as saddling our grandchildren with massive debt. Well, if we want to pay out more money and not pay taxes, who exactly is going to foot the bill? With a 2010 budget deficit of over a trillion dollars -- that's a million millions, a 1 with 12 zeros after it -- and a national debt of more than 13 trillion, somebody will eventually have to pay. I guess it must be that anonymous "they" who shell out for unemployment benefits, emergency rescues and repairs during natural disasters, and all those other things that just seem to be there.
**

Another ad I've seen on TV the past few days had me wondering what the point of it was. A woman who owns a diner -- I'm not sure where, because it is never made clear -- talks about how the mayor tried all sorts of unscrupulous tricks to put her out of business and steal the land her diner was on. The woman speaks with a heavy accent, making it even more difficult to understand her story, and the voice-over and captions do little to alleviate the situation. Apparently, she went to court and was successful in stopping the mayor's evil scheme. But even after seeing it four or five times, I have no idea who the mayor she is talking about is, what office he is running for, or even in which state -- New York, New Jersey, or Connecticut -- this is taking place.
**

And then there was the gubernatorial debate that took place here in New York last week. Local newspapers and TV news programs referred to it as a "seven-ring circus" as the two major party candidates were joined by five others from minority parties. One, representing the Rent is 2 Damn High party, is apparently releasing his campaign platform as a rap CD and, despite the name of his party, does not pay rent.
Most amusing, however, was the former madam who compared her business to the MTA, saying that, unlike them, she had only one set of books, everything ran on schedule, and all the customers were satisfied.
**

Finally, basing their campaign on the concept that every elected official is evil, corrupt, overpaid and morally bankrupt, there are the groups who tell you to vote against all the "career politicians" and elect their candidate instead, usually touting theirs as a success in some other field.
Yes, I'm sure there are people in office who fit their description, just as there are people in every other profession who would. But before you jump on their bandwagon, consider this: If you need surgery, are you going to go to a "career medical professional" or a guy who has been a successful plumber? Do you want the car you drive repaired by a "career auto mechanic" or someone who is successful restaurateur? If you are the victim of a crime, do you want the aid or a "career law enforcement professional" or someone who wins at online poker?

While there are things about our government that are broken, they are not going to be fixed overnight by throwing everyone out and starting again. Vote for the candidates you feel will do the best job, regardless of party lines, and it will be a step in the right direction.

Volleyball Challenges

2010-10-21T09:59:00.003-04:00

Last spring, because we had so much interest in our Tuesday Adult Ed volleyball program, I started campaigning to get a second night added to the schedule. Monday and Wednesday nights, the gym is used for Adult Ed basketball, and they show no signs of decamping, so the high school venue is out.

One option that did open up, however, was the gym in the middle school. For awhile it seemed like a sure thing, then we were told it would not be available. Just as our fall semester was about to begin, we found out that we actually could play there on Wednesday nights.

This was quite fortuitous. Because nearby Seaford closed down their Adult Ed volleyball, we inherited a substantial number of new players. I already had 52 people -- four more than the cap of 48 I had tried to set -- signed up for Tuesday night and had to turn away quite a few. With only two courts in the middle school, I wanted to cap the class at 34, but have ended up with 40. So far, we've had enough absences each night that there has not been overcrowding.

Adding the second night has not been without its challenges. It seemed that no one in the Athletic Department at the middle school had any idea what volleyball equipment was there. One person said there were poles, but no nets. Another said there were nets but no poles. A third insisted there was nothing, that it was all stored at the high school.

For the first night of play, I went to the high school and picked up two extra nets there, which turned out to be a good thing because there were only poles at the middle school. The poles, which are fairly heavy, stand in specially-made holes in the gym floor. As you might imagine, there are covers on these holes when volleyball is not being played. What we did not expect that first night was to find that when they last polyurethaned the gym floor, they effectively glued the four covers in place. It took us a good fifteen minutes of scratching, scraping, and prying with a heavy-duty screwdriver to get them open.

Once we had the poles in place, it took a bit of creativity to get the nets set up. Because we were using leftover "hand-me-down" nets, we were missing some of the necessary hooks. But were are a determined group and we made it work. For the second week, I had gathered a few more pieces and set-up went more smoothly.

Last night, however, presented a new challenge. I went to get the poles from the locker room and they were gone. I called the Adult Ed office in the high school, but they had no idea. We searched the other gym, the rest of the locker rooms, and anywhere else we could think of, but there was no sign of the poles. The head of the custodial staff suggested that they had been taken to one of the other schools; he offered to get us some basketballs if we wanted to play that instead.

We are a determined group of volleyball players, however. First, we located the poles on movable bases that are usually used for the badminton nets and rolled them into place. Then we came up with creative ways to attach the volleyball nets. Finally, using an assortment of ropes and rock-climbing belts that various players had in their cars, we fixed the poles in place by attaching them to the basketball backboards and the walls of the gym. It would not have passed muster in any official volleyball tournament, but it was good enough for us.

I'm hoping the poles find their way back from wherever they've gone, but at least we've worked out "Plan B" if they don't. Of course, who knows what new challenge will face us next week?

No Sign of The Times

2010-10-15T11:43:00.002-04:00

Once upon a time, shortly after dinosaurs ruled the earth, newspapers were delivered to our suburban homes by boys on bicycles. Usually, it was one of the kids from the neighborhood, earning his spending money after school. I knew a couple of boys who did it and they used to say the thing they hated most was somebody cursing them out because the newspaper was late or not put exactly where they wanted it.
When the local papers either switched to morning editions, the after-school job became an early-morning task and those kids were replaced by adults, in many cases a parent who didn't want Billy out riding his bike at 6 in the morning.
Somewhere along the way, the parents and kids were replaced by delivery service companies who have contracts for large areas.

Doing our best to keep the print media alive, we get three daily newspapers delivered: Newsday, The New York Times, and USA Today. Newsday is delivered by one company, while the latter two are handled by another. And, other than on a morning of terrible weather, we would awaken to find the newspapers in the driveway.

A few weeks ago, we got a note from the Times/USA Today guy that routes were being changed and he would no longer be delivering our papers. The following week, delivery was spotty, at best. One day we got the Times, the next we got USA Today, then both, then neither. One morning USA Today was on our driveway and the Times was two houses up and across the street. Presumably, we were not alone in making complaint calls, and the problems seemed to be resolved. Whoever the new delivery person was, s/he went so far as putting the papers on the front steps rather than just tossing them onto the lawn or driveway.

That person's tenure seems to have been short-lived, however. Last week, deliveries were once again spotty. On Monday, there was no USA Today. On Tuesday, there was no Times, but we did get Monday's USA Today. On Wednesday, there was no USA Today. Each time, we called.
On Thursday, Laurie was outside when the delivery guy came by. He handed her USA Today. When she told him that we also get the Times, he looked at his list and said, "No, you don't."
"Well, yes, since 1974 and except for a couple of days this week, we do!"
For the next few days, we got both.

This past Tuesday we got neither, resulting in yet another pair of phone calls. (Someone eventually delivered the papers, to our next door neighbor's house.)
On Wednesday, we got two of each, the sets being delivered about an hour apart.
Yesterday, we again got two of each.
This morning, I was about to leave for work when the delivery guy drove up. He said it was only his second day on the route and apologized for running late, but he knew which two papers I was supposed to get and handed them to me.
He also told me he had just been cursed at by one of the neighbors because he was late. I guess some things don't change...

Politics As Usual

2010-10-15T10:10:00.003-04:00

With Election Day two and a half weeks away, it is not surprising that the airwaves have been filled with an assortment of political advertisements. And, as usual, almost all of them are the negative variety.

One Long Island Congressional race has a candidate whose ads proclaimed that he had created hundreds of jobs. His opponent has since countered with one saying that they were created in places like Korea and India, "at the expense of American jobs." As one would expect from a negative ad, the opponent's reason you should vote for him is only, "The other guy is a liar."

In an ad for a Connecticut race, one candidate is asked how jobs are created and he is shown fumbling through an explanation that makes no sense. His opponent belittles him for not having the answer, but does not offer one herself. "Vote for me because my opponent is a blatherer."

Another Congressional race ad here on Long Island sternly advises us that the incumbent "voted with Nancy Pelosi 97% of the time" as if that were an offense on par with worshipping Satan. Presumably, his opponent is promising to vote against anything Pelosi votes for, regardless of whether it is good or bad for his district.

And then there's the ad for a State Assembly race that tells us how the incumbent recently attended a special session that he proclaimed was a waste of time and taxpayer money. He supposedly paid for the trip to Albany out of his own pocket and then put in an expense report the next day. Once again, the campaign tactic is, "My opponent is a liar, so vote for me instead."

**
There is one arena for which I don't recall seeing or hearing any negative ads. Because Hillary Clinton resigned her Senate seat to become Secretary of State, we are electing two Senators in New York this year.
Chuck Schumer, who I have heard speak at enough college graduations that I can now recite his speech, seems to be a shoe-in. His ads run on TV fairly regularly, seemingly to remind us that he is up for reelection. I have no idea who his Republican opponent is, nor can I recall seeing or hearing an ad for whoever it is.
Kirsten Gillibrand is our junior Senator, selected to replace Clinton and now running for the remaining two years of the term. In one of her TV ads, she talks about how the government is broken and how she is working to fix it, specifically by voting against Congress' automatic pay raises. "The average worker," she says, "can't give himself a raise, so why should Congress be allowed to do it?" As with Schumer, I have no idea who her Republican opponent is.

**

You might recall that last year I wrote about local candidates who were campaigning that they would lead a "Tax Revolt" and had those words emblazoned on their posters. You might also recall that they were elected. I can't say that I know what they have done since taking office, other than showing up for photo ops for the Farmingdale Observer. I can, however, report that we just got our property tax bill for the coming year and it is still revolting.

Swimsover

2010-10-12T12:53:00.002-04:00

While many consider Labor Day to be the end of summer, I've always gone with whatever day I last go in the pool. For the past few years, since we added the solar heating panels and the pool has stayed warm much longer, Columbus Day has become the last day of summer. Or, as we've come to call it, Swimsover.

The three-day holiday weekend provided ideal weather -- sunny with temperatures in the mid-70s -- for sitting poolside and enjoying a few dips. The water was in the low 70s, according to the consensus our "Temperature Team" of floating thermometers, though Tommy Turtle, ever the slow one, said it was 48. Laurie called it "too cold" while I referred to it as "bracing." She got in up to her ankles while I swam the length of the pool more than a few times.

Today, with our "Temperature Team" out and stored away for the winter and the pool guys coming to flush the lines and put on the cover, we bid the Summer of 2010 adieu and look forward to First Dunk, sometime in April, 2011.

Kapow! From Pulp Fiction to Google Books (with Comic Books in the Middle)

2010-10-12T12:39:00.003-04:00

Hofstra University Library
Presents a 75th Anniversary Symposium
Kapow! From Pulp Fiction to Google Books
Celebrating the evolution of popular culture from 1935 to the present

Friday, October 22, 2010
Sponsored by the Joan and Donald E. Axinn Lecture Series

RSVP for the KAPOW! by October 15, 2010, to Jolene Collazo at 516-463-5952 or Jolene.Collazo@hofstra.edu.

Pulps were the successor to the penny dreadful, dime novels, and short fiction magazines of the 19th century. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the term “pulp fiction” had its first documented use in the Washington Post in 1935, the year of Hofstra’s founding. The morning session of KAPOW! will examine pulps, cartoons, and popular culture. After a complimentary lunch with a guest speaker, the afternoon session will focus on fan fiction, copyright, re-mix culture and the Google Book settlement. Join us as we celebrate the evolution of popular culture through literature, art, and film from 1935 to the present.

9:00 - 9:45 a.m. Registration and Coffee
Guthart Cultural Center Theater, first floor, Axinn Library

9:45 a.m. – SESSION I: FROM PULP FICTION …
12:15 p.m. Guthart Cultural Center Theater, first floor, Axinn Library

WELCOME Daniel R. Rubey
Dean, Library and Information Services
Hofstra University

Keynote Speaker Michael Sharp, aka “Rex Parker,” SUNY Binghamton
Lurid Liberation: Sex and Social Change in American Paperback Cover Art, 1940-1970

Michael Sharp teaches English Literature at Binghamton University in Binghamton, NY. He has also taught literature classes in the New York State prison system, as well as continuing education classes for senior citizens in the Binghamton area. He has published articles on topics ranging from medieval literature to American crime fiction, and is the editor of the Encyclopedia of Popular Contemporary Writers (Marshall-Cavendish, 2006). Under the pseudonym "Rex Parker," he writes two blogs, one about the New York Times crossword puzzle, and the other about American paperback books of the mid-20th century. He has constructed crossword puzzles for the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times, and is currently working on a book about the place of the crossword puzzle in contemporary American culture.

Hofstra Faculty Panel I
Moderator: William Caniano, Assistant Professor, Joan and Donald E. Axinn Library
Panelists:
Lisa Dresner, Assistant Professor, Writing Studies and Composition, ‘60s Pulp: The Cult of the Sexual Savior
Mary Ann Allison, Assistant Professor, Journalism, Media Studies and Public Relations, Picturing Pop Culture: New Media Academics
Richard Pioreck, Adjunct Associate Professor, English, Read a Few Books, Get More of the Jokes
Louis Kern, Professor, History, Uncle Sam, iconic embodiment of a nation
**
12:30 – 1:45 p.m. COMPLIMENTARY LUNCH
246 Axinn Library

Keynote Speaker: Bob Rozakis
“75 Years of Comic Books”

Bob Rozakis (BBA, ‘73) began his career in the comic book industry shortly before graduating from Hofstra and spent the next twenty-five years at DC Comics.

As a writer, Bob is perhaps best known as the co-creator of ‘Mazing Man, but his credits include more than four hundred stories featuring Superman, Batman and virtually every other DC character. He recently completed "The Secret History of AA Comics," an alternate history of the industry that appeared in Alter Ego and Back Issue magazines. Outside the comic book business, he has written storybooks for educational publishing projects and co-authored The Complete Idiot's Guide to Office Politics with his wife, Dr. Laurie Rozakis (BA, ‘73, MA ‘76).

During his seventeen years as head of DC's Production Department, Bob guided the company (and, eventually, the entire industry) into previously unexplored areas of computerized color separations and typesetting, electronic page preparation, and computer-to-plate printing. These efforts earned DC Comics over one hundred awards for printing excellence and resulted in Bob twice being profiled and cover - featured in Publishing & Production Executive.

Currently, Bob is the comptroller for Combined Resources Interiors, a drywall construction firm, utilizing the accounting degree he earned at Hofstra. He annually teaches a creative writing course for the Johns Hopkins University / Center for Talented Youth summer program for gifted students.
**
2:00 – 4:15 p.m. SESSION II: … TO GOOGLE BOOKS
Guthart Cultural Center Theater, first floor, Axinn Library

Keynote Speaker Kevin Smith, Duke University
Joseph G. Astman Distinguished Symposium Scholar
Copyright, Creativity and Incentive: the Problem of Fan Fiction

As Duke University’s first Scholarly Communications Officer, Kevin Smith’s principal role is to teach and advise faculty, administrators and students about copyright, intellectual property licensing and scholarly publishing. Kevin began his academic career with graduate studies in theology at Yale University and the University of Chicago, and then decided to move into library work. He holds a Masters of Library Science from Kent State University and has worked as an academic librarian in both liberal arts colleges and specialized theological libraries. His strong interest in copyright law began in library school and he received a law degree from Capital University in 2005. Before moving to Duke in 2006, Kevin served as the Director of the Pilgrim Library at Defiance College in Ohio, where he also taught Constitutional Law. He is admitted to the bar in Ohio and North Carolina.

Kevin serves on the Intellectual Property Board and the Provost’s Digital Futures Task Force at Duke, as well as on the Association of College and Research Libraries’ Scholarly Communications Committee and the faculty of the Association of Research Libraries’ Institute on Scholarly Communications. He has written several articles on copyright issues in higher education, and maintains a highly-regarded web log that discusses copyright and publication in academia, and he is a frequent speaker on those topics.

Hofstra Faculty Panel II
Moderator: Sally Glasser, Assistant Professor, Joan and Donald E. Axinn Library
Panelists:
Robert Leonard, Professor, Linguistics, Slang! What is it good for?!--The utility, motivation and poetry of slang in pulp fiction and other popular literary genres
Kathleen Wallace, Professor, Philosophy, Mashups, mixups, wikis, blogs – when is it creative use and when is it plagiarism?
Kevin Esch, Assistant Professor, Radio/TV/Film: Fan-Made Movie Trailers and the Power of Disappointment
Leon Friedman, Professor, Law, The Google Books Settlement

4:30 p.m. CLOSING RECEPTION
Ground Floor Lounge, Joan and Donald E. Axinn Library

The Last Time

2010-09-27T10:53:00.003-04:00

This past Friday night I did something I hadn't expected to do again this year -- I took a midnight swim. As a result of the (presumably) last gasp of summer, air temperature and water temperature made it not just possible, but inviting. So, after watching TV and finishing a book I'd been reading, I did a couple of laps in the moonlight.

But as I was drying off, I started wondering if this would be my last moonlight swim of 2010. Certainly, until a few minutes earlier, I would have said that my last one had been during Labor Day weekend. But until the cover is on and the pool is closed for the season, I can't say for certain that there won't be one more night that I'll be out there.

Taking it to a larger scale, there are some things that you can say, "This is the last time I'll..." about. Your last day of classes before high school graduation, for example. "This is the last time I'll be in Physics." If the time period available for you to do something is finite and you do it at the last possible moment, you can safely say "This is the last time."

But how about something like going to a favorite restaurant? Unless it closes, when is the last time you ever go there? You may never be able to say.

Even asserting "I'm never going to do that again!" isn't a guarantee. (How many times has Brett Favre retired...so far?) Perhaps one of the best examples of that is Sean Connery playing James Bond. He announced after "You Only Live Twice" that he was done. After George Lazenby did "On Her Majesty's Secret Service," Connery was lured back for "Diamonds Are Forever." This time, however, he said he would never play Bond again. Until eleven years later, when he made "Never Say Never Again." The title of the film is attributed to Connery's wife, who told him exactly that after his "Diamonds" announcement.

And how do you know when it's the last time you'll see somebody you know? Unless it is the grimmest of circumstances and you're sitting in the hospital room right before they pull the plug, you don't. Otherwise, it is only when they are dead that you can determine for certain the occasion of the last time you saw them...and, presumably, you didn't know it at the time.

So, these are the kinds of things I think about when I take a midnight swim. The last midnight swim? Who can say?

Hey, Look, I Wrote a Book!

2010-09-24T09:48:00.004-04:00

Back in 1994, I was not doing much comic book writing any more and so I decided to write a novel that had been percolating for a number of years. Weekend hours that had previously been devoted to tales of Superman, Aquaman, Air Wave, and numerous others became the time to write chapters.

The "present-day" of the story is 1992, but much of the action relates to events from 1968 and 1969, which are presented as flashbacks. (While I was certainly not the first to tell a tale this way, it has been interesting to note how this particular method of storytelling has become popular recently with the success of "Lost" on television.) I don't recall how long I worked on it, but eventually all the pieces of "The Junkyards of Memory" were done.

With my 80,000-word opus completed, I got in touch with an agent who was a friend of a friend. She said that she would circulate it to publishers she thought might be interested and I crossed my fingers. Some months later, my fingers long uncrossed, she had received a single response along the lines of, "He's a good writer, but this does not fit our publishing program." So I put the copy of the manuscript in a file drawer and stored the electronic file on a floppy disk and went on to other things.

And that is where it has remained, though two very small portions turn up every year in my CTY writing class. One scene is used as an example of how to utilize the setting to describe a character's personality; another is the basis for a radio play that the students read to learn how to use dialogue to tell a story. From time to time, one of the students would ask where to get a copy of the novel and I would say, "It hasn't been published."

Recently, however, Laurie and I were talking about some of her out-of-print books and the possibility of self-publishing them via lulu.com. Neither of us knew much about it, so I went to the site and checked it out. And, after doing so, I decided, "Why not publish my novel?"

I have to say this, if not for the electronic file, the book would still be a manuscript sitting in a filing cabinet. That I was able to do some light editing and then drop the entire text into one of lulu's templates is the only way this could have worked. Putting together the cover was fairly simple as well. In a couple of hours, I had everything ready to go.

And so, for anyone who is interested, "The Junkyards of Memory" is now available in hard copy (http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/the-junkyards-of-memory/12790822?productTrackingContext=search_results/search_shelf/center/2) or as a digital download (http://www.lulu.com/product/file-download/the-junkyards-of-memory/12790823?productTrackingContext=search_results/search_shelf/center/1).

"Lucky in Love" -- Not Lucky in Travel

2010-09-17T08:56:00.011-04:00

Yesterday evening my old friend and 'Mazing Man co-creator Stephen DeStefano was having an art showing and book signing for his new masterpiece Lucky in Love at a gallery in New York City. Since the gallery was an easy walk from Penn Station and I have not seen Stephen in years, I thought it would be good to make the trip into the city.

Well, as they say, nothing’s ever easy.

I got on the 5:14 train out of Farmingdale, scheduled to arrive at Penn at 6:10. As I did in my years as a regular on the LIRR, I fell asleep shortly thereafter. Imagine my surprise when I woke up at 6:05 and discovered we were sitting in Jamaica station, where they were making announcements that due to “wild weather” there would be delays. (The US Weather Service has not yet determined whether it was a tornado. Whatever it was, it took out trees along a path through Staten Island, Brooklyn and Queens, dropping some across LIRR tracks along the way.)

Still not a major problem, however, since right downstairs at the Jamaica station is the subway and the E train would take me to within a four block walk to the gallery. And since the subways were honoring LIRR tickets, the ride would not cost anything more.

After a few station stops, we pulled into Roosevelt Avenue... and sat... and sat... and sat. Finally, there was an announcement that we should switch to another E train that was pulling in on the other track. Turned out there was a fight going on in one of the other cars of the train I was on, so it would not be going anywhere for awhile.

Not surprising, the train that pulled in was a lot more crowded. But we rolled along and at about 7:00, we finally made it to my stop. A quick stroll in a very light drizzle brought me to the gallery. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but the gallery was not much larger than the subway car I'd just left... and almost as crowded.

There was a nice display of Stephen's work on both walls and I was able to squeeze my way to the back, where he was signing copies of the book. We spoke for about a minute and then he returned to what he was there to do. Since I did not want to jump the line, I worked my way back towards the door.

Unfortunately, air conditioning was sorely lacking and it grew quite warm. I decided I needed to step outside for awhile when my shirt started to look like I'd been playing Ultimate Frisbee for an hour. (My CTY compatriots would have looked at me and decided I was about to yell "Last point!") After cooling down, I tried my best to rejoin the line inside, but after once again starting to look like I was melting, I figured it was not meant to be. Stephen was being his affable self, talking and adding little drawings to the autographs for each of his guests, and the line was moving about as quickly as that LIRR train I'd abandoned.

So I headed towards Penn Station, figuring that train service would have been restored in the couple of hours since the "wild weather." Alas, that was far from the case. The station was packed with people and no trains were running. Police and LIRR officials were directing passengers to the E train so they could take the subway to Jamaica station, from which eastbound trains were operating. What I found remarkable was the number of people who weren't doing this; they seemed resigned to staying in Penn for however long was necessary.

Though you can normally access the subway from inside Penn, this was not the case. We had to go back outside and walk around the building to get to the subway entrance on the street. I was finally successful getting into the subway and when an E train pulled in, I even managed to get a seat. I was quite happy about that because the car got quite full and quite warm. (Not surprisingly, I started "melting" again.)

We crawled along, the PA system reminding us that there were delays ahead and that we would proceed when they had a green signal. About an hour later, we finally reached our destination... where there were many, many people waiting at street level for trains to carry them further east. (The first one, going on the Babylon branch, was announced just as I arrived and started a stampede towards the steps to the track. I suspect that many of those people had been there for quite awhile.)

There was no Ronkonkoma branch train on the horizon, but I'd dealt with LIRR delays many times during my twenty-five years commuting to DC Comics, so I knew some ways around a lot of the crowds. I walked to a staircase leading up to one of the tracks that was not being used and went all the way up to the crossover platform above the tracks. I wasn't the only person who knew this trick, but there were far fewer people up top than there were down below.

After about a forty-five minute wait, they announced a train to Ronkonkoma. From my lofty waiting area, I was able to quickly get down to the track and snag a seat before most of the passengers made it to the platform. We sat for another twenty minutes or so while the train filled and then finally started rolling east.

Though the train made every stop along the way, I was finally back in Farmingdale at 11:10 and home a few minutes after that. A six hour round-trip... probably the most travel fun I've had since the day in March when I came home from Becca's wedding. (Blogged here as "Planes, Trains and Automobiles.")

And people wonder why I'm so happy to now have a twelve-minute commute to work!

Amalgamated Madness

2010-09-15T10:24:00.004-04:00

February, 1996 was very special for comics fanboys (and fangirls). It was the month when DC Versus Marvel, a four-issue weekly series co-produced by the two rival publishers appeared, pitting the greatest heroes against one another with some of the battles being determined by the votes of the readers.

What the fanboys did not know was the surprise planned for the week between issue #s 3 and 4, that for the week of February 28th, DC and Marvel would cease to exist and be replaced by Amalgam Comics. This hybrid company would issue twelve titles that week, and as part of the gag, everyone would pretend that Amalgam had been in business since the dawn of comics.

Despite the fact that this effort would involved dozens of staff members and freelancers, the powers-that-be were determined to keep it a secret. I don't know how it was handled at Marvel, but at DC it meant that any information involving Amalgam Week was dispensed on a "need-to-know" basis.

And that is where the trouble began.

Since the premise of Amalgam Week was that DC and Marvel did not exist, there could be no house ads for the individual companies' books in the Amalgam titles. "Not a problem," said our advertising director, certain that he could sell all the ad space to paying customers.

Well, it was a problem, presumably because he couldn't tell any of the potential advertisers what the big surprise was going to be. Much of the ad space remained unsold.

In a "normal" week, any unsold ad pages would be filled with house ads for DC books. These were generated on a regular basis and would be slotted in as needed. Which is exactly what happened with the Amalgam books because the people setting up the ad schedules were not on the "need-to-know" list and were unaware of the potential problem.

But the problem should have been caught because the ad schedules had to be signed off on by the ad director, the marketing director, and the editorial director, all of whom were in on the secret. For whatever reasons, none of the three actually reviewed the schedules. In each case, it was an assistant that reviewed and okayed them... and, in each case, the assistant was not aware of the Amalgam gimmick.

This "perfect storm" doesn't stop there.

Before a book goes on the press, a set of blueprint proofs are sent from the printer to be reviewed and okayed. Usually, these would be delivered to the production department and distributed to the appropriate editors who would make sure the story pages were in the proper order, etc. Someone in production would then check the ad pages against the schedule to make sure they were also correct and the proofs would be sent back to the printer.

The Amalgam books, because they had been shoehorned into the regular schedules of the writers and artists, were running very late. The film separations arrived that the printer over the weekend. The proofs were generated and would have been delivered to DC that Monday morning for an instant turnaround. But, as fate would have it, Monday was Presidents Day, so the office was closed. (Not the case at the printer in Canada, however.) To solve this dilemma, it was decided that the proofs would be FedExed to the individual editors, who would review them, call in any corrections directly to the printer's rep, and FedEx the proofs back the same day.

Well, six different DC editors reviewed proofs and not one of them said anything about there being DC house ads in them. (Two later denied that there had been any ads in the proofs they looked at, despite the fact that their signatures are on them.) Whatever the level of "need-to-know" secrecy was deemed necessary to be in on it, you know these guys had to have it.

And so the books got printed with DC house ads in them.

Printed samples arrived in the office a couple of days later and, as with all samples, copies landed on my desk. As I had been away on vacation the previous week and hadn't seen most of the finished stories (and, frankly, being a fanboy at heart), I was especially interested in looking at them. I was told that they heard me yell "Holy $#!+" at the other end of the hall.

After a couple of in-house calls to advise the powers-that-be, I was on the phone with the printer to find out the status of the six books. Then, in a quickly convened meeting, it was determined that we would have to reprint the books on a crash schedule using a cobbled-together collection of paid ads, arrange special shipping to the distributor so they would be able to make the delivery date, and trash everything that had already been produced.

Needless to say, the cost of doing this was astronomical, but it was done and the books came out on schedule, with the readers being none the wiser.

In the DC offices, however, there was plenty of finger-pointing as to who should have caught the error and when. At least one person lost his job as a result and a number of others were chastised for allowing it to happen. A meeting was held to set up procedures so that it would not happen again, but what was never addressed was the fact that the decision to keep Amalgam a secret from the staff was ultimately to blame.

As it turned out, the Amalgam mess was only the tip of the iceberg. There were so many other mistakes, many of them resulting in more shredding and reprinting, that we started referring to 1996 as "The Year of Being Stupid."

As the saying goes, "You ain't seen nothing yet!"

**

One postscript to Amalgam: A couple of weeks later, I had lunch with Gene and Alison, my Production Director counterparts from Marvel, and we were discussing what had happened. "You realize," said Gene after listening to the story, "that if we had made that mistake, we would have called you up and said, 'Oops, sorry!' and let it go."

Hofstra Yearbook 1971

2010-09-14T14:07:00.002-04:00

With virtually no staff in place for the Nexus 1971, my co-editor-in-chief Arnie set out to fill the gaps. As new section editors started showing up in the office, it took me a little while to figure out how he was recruiting them.

He was picking up women in his classes, using the line, "Would you like to be a yearbook editor?" Jackie, Diane, Leslie, Gail, Karen, Donna, et al. Each of them shared one class or another with my co-editor. So on the afternoon that Laurie walked in and announced, "Hi, I'm the new Student Life editor!" my response was, "Which of Arnie's classes are you in?" (Jewelry Making, if I remember correctly.)

To be fair, Arnie did not recruit only women for the editorial positions. Jean had been one of our photographers the previous year and he was promoted to Photo Editor. And when it looked like I was going to have to be sports section editor again (because, apparently, Arnie was unable to pick up any athletics-minded women), he agreed to give the post to Stephan, who had taken virtually all the photos for the section.

But there was a lot of estrogen floating around the yearbook office that year, especially as Arnie did his best to promote staff unity by having regular meetings and staff parties. He also managed to date more than a couple of them, even getting engaged to one before the year was out. (The engagement did not last, however.)

We had frequent visits from Dick, who worked for Taylor Publishing, the company that printed the yearbooks, and from Aaron and Bernie, who ran the photography studio that took all the senior portraits and processed the pictures our staff photographers took. Yet, despite all these meetings, when the end of the spring semester rolled around, everybody was scrambling to get their sections done.

But the book did eventually get finished. Arnie graduated and I took over as sole editor-in-chief, with almost all of the editors he'd recruited remaining on staff.

As for Arnie's ploy of recruiting editors in order to find romance, well, that did actually work out for him. After his lone date with Laurie -- at a 13-inning Mets game on an incredibly humid night -- she introduced him to her best friend from high school. A year later, Arnie and Carol got married.

Hofstra Yearbook 1970

2010-09-13T08:44:00.004-04:00

In the summer of 1969, I received a letter from the editors of Nexus, the Hofstra University yearbook, inviting me to come by their office if I was interested in joining the staff when I started my freshman year in September. It was a form letter, sent to all incoming students who had listed "yearbook" as one of their high school activities, but I decided I should get involved with some activities and this seemed an easy choice.

My first couple of visits to the yearbook office in the Student Center were disappointing. The office was dark and the door was locked. Despite the letter saying that they were actively recruiting new staff members, there did not seem to be any indication that this was the case.

Late one morning of the second week, I had to pay a visit to the bookstore between classes and decided to give it one more try. To my surprise, I did find someone in the office, one of the section editors. She told me that Joe and Arnie, the editors-in-chief of Nexus 1970, were indeed in need of staff members and would be glad to have me on the staff.

She asked what I had done on my high school yearbook; I told her I had handled the senior section and the sports section. Her eyes lit up at the mention of the latter. "We definitely need someone for sports," she said. She told me she would leave my name and that I should stop back that afternoon, when Joe and Arnie would be there.

I figured that, as a freshman staff member, I would probably have to sort through photos, track down scores or correct spellings of players' names, and maybe get to lay out a couple of pages. Imagine my surprise when I came back that afternoon and Arnie told me that I would be the editor of the sports section!

I asked about my duties. Would I have to schedule photographers to go to various games? No, the photo editor (who, it turned out, was Arnie) would do that. Did I have to go to all the games? Only if I wanted to. Would I have to track down the stats? No, the Athletic Department sent them over regularly.

I also asked about staff meetings and he said that there would not be too many, but the individual section co-editors did meet from time to time. When I asked who my co-editor was Arnie told me that he was working on it and he would let me know.

**

Over the next few weeks, I would stop by the office after classes. It was usually empty, but the door was unlocked, so I was able to go in and check my mailbox. Like the office, however, it too was frequently empty.

Then one day, I found a note that my co-editor, Larry, wanted to meet. He was a resident student rather than a commuter like I was, so he left his dorm phone number. I used the office phone to call and got no answer. I left a note in his mailbox with my number and told him to try me in the evenings (except Mondays and Fridays, when I would be working).

I think it was three weeks later that we finally caught up with each other. He called my home a couple of times when I was out. I called his dorm and got his roommate. As it turned out, I was in the Nexus office leaving him a note when he walked in, planning on leaving one for me. We talked for a few minutes, set up a time to meet the following week, and went our separate ways.

**

There was not much interaction among the Nexus staff members that year. I don't recall that there was ever a meeting of the entire group and there were some editors I don't think I ever met. Arnie was the only one I ever regularly saw in the office; Joe was doing an internship and became something of an absentee editor.

Larry and I would occasionally run into one another on campus. We would talk about the success or failure of one Hofstra team or another -- the football team was 0-10 that year -- and end with, "We should get together and lay out some pages soon."

As it turned out, we did not sit down and work on the book at all until almost the end of the spring semester. By that point, we had envelopes full of photos for each of the sports, sets of stats and rosters, and a lot of pages to fill.

And that was all we had. As some of you may remember, 1970 was the year of Vietnam War protests and the Kent State shootings and so Hofstra, like many other colleges, ended its school year early. As a result, there were few staff members and fewer students on campus as Larry and I put the sports section together, leaving us with almost no resources to fill the gaps.

We relied on back issues of the Hofstra Chronicle for specifics about games. There wasn't much in the way of positive commentary about the winless football team and none of the other teams had particularly stellar seasons either. Larry and I were reduced to trying to write clever captions for the photos. Our favorites were those where we came up with an interesting adjective for a player. So we had a "bespectacled slugger" on the baseball team and a "mustachioed veteran" on the football team.

We were almost done with the section when we realized we had no photos of the tennis team. Not a single one! And none had appeared in the Chronicle either, so we couldn't even swipe one of theirs. "We'll have to fake it," Larry said.

And so we did. The "Hofstra tennis player" shown in the book is me, in a photo taken by Arnie at the Elmont High School tennis court. No one ever questioned it. For the actual members of the tennis team who may have looked at it and wondered, "Who the heck is this guy?" -- now you know.

**

Virtually the entire staff of Nexus 1970 was made up of seniors. In fact, when I visited the office shortly before the Fall '70 semester began, Arnie advised me that he and I were the only returning staff members. As such, I was the only candidate for co-editor-in-chief... which will be the subject of an upcoming installment.

Meet the Met$

2010-08-31T10:42:00.003-04:00

As a reward for donating platelets four times between May and July, the NY Blood Center sent me four tickets to a Mets game at Citi Field. Since I have not been to a Mets game in their new ballpark, I was looking forward to it. And since I had a quartet of tickets, I invited our friends Allan and Arlene, both avid Mets fans, to join us.

It has been a number of years since I've been to a Mets game. The last time I recall driving to Shea Stadium, the parking fee was $6. I figured it had probably gone up a couple of bucks since then, but was quite surprised to find that it now costs $19! And this is for the "outer" parking fields; I don't even want to guess what "V.I.P Parking" costs.

It was "Build-a-Bear" day, so we each received a teddy bear with a Mets shirt and cap. Thankfully, Laurie had brought a canvas bag, so we had somewhere to put them. Otherwise, we would have been like many of our fellow attendees, with bears stuck under our arms or on our heads as we walked through the stadium. One family I saw had four children, the youngest of which was displaced from her stroller by six bears.

Having been to the "retro-modern" stadiums in Baltimore, Atlanta, and Philadelphia, I was underwhelmed with the look and feel of Citi Field. As Laurie pointed out, it came across as very corporate in its attempt to seem friendly. The Hall of Fame Museum, though it contained a few items of interest, led directly into the souvenir/gift shop with a focus on "buy, buy,buy."

As we made our way to our seats, Laurie pointed out that every possible spot along the way was filled with a cart or kiosk selling something. And there were certainly no bargains to be had. Two hot dogs and two sodas would take almost all of a $20 bill. One can only imagine how much that family with the four kids spent on their day at the ballpark.

Our seats were pretty good, field level in the right field corner. That they were in the shade on a 90+ degree afternoon for most of the game was a good thing. We could see all of the field as well as the scoreboard. We were about ten yards away from the foul pole, so I had an up-close view of the home run ball that bounced off it.

The Mets beat the Astros, 5-1, thanks mostly to the timely 2-RBI single by pitcher R.A. Dickey. Neither team has any hopes of playing in the post-season, so the game had no real importance other than bringing the Mets back to being a .500 team.

One thing hasn't changed between Shea Stadium and Citi Field. Getting out of the parking lot at the end of the game still takes forever. The entire lot seems to feed into a single two-lane exit. You'd think that with all those $19 fees they collect, they could have afforded more than one gate.

75th Anniversaries

2010-08-27T11:07:00.003-04:00

New Fun Comics #1 went on sale in January, 1935. It changed its name to More Fun Comics with #7 and was joined by New Comics in November. It was not until February, 1937 that Detective Comics, the magazine that gave the company its name, joined the mix. It is likely that no one involved with the production of those books expected that the company would still be around seventy-five years later.

Though there had been talk through much of 2009 that DC Comics would be making a big deal about their 75th anniversary this year, it would seem that they have forgotten about it. (There are a couple of books coming out, but they are being published by others.) Maybe they're saving their energy for the 75th anniversary of Detective in 2012, or Superman's in 2013?

==

On the other hand, Hofstra University has an entire year's worth of events planned for its 75th anniversary. In September, Homecoming Weekend will be a three-day extravaganza featuring a parade, fireworks, birthday party, student talent show, numerous receptions, and more. Everything you'd expect from a gala Homecoming except a football game... because Hofstra cancelled its football program last year in order to save a couple million dollars, which will instead be put towards the new medical school.

One event that is scheduled is the symposium “Kapow! From Pulp Fiction to Google Books” on Friday, October 22, 2010. Says Sarah McCleskey, one of its co-directors, "Since Hofstra’s founding date (1935) coincides so nicely with the rise of "pulp fiction" as a literary genre, we have chosen to look at the evolution of literature and culture encompassing such topics as pulp fiction, comics, graphic novels, anime, and digital culture.
"For the morning session, we will focus on popular culture, with a keynote address and a panel of Hofstra professors interested in some of these topics (crime fiction, anime, graphic novels, etc.). The first keynote speaker will be Michael Sharp, Professor at SUNY-Binghamton who is perhaps better known for his NY Times crossword-puzzle solving abilities under the pseudonym 'Rex Parker.' Professor Sharp also authors a pulp fiction blog.
"The afternoon session will feature a Kevin Smith, Scholarly Communications officer at Duke University, to lead off another faculty panel relating to Google Book settlement/copyright issues in education/authors’ rights, etc. and will address such questions as how we protect the legitimate property rights of authors and publishers, but at the same time protect the freedom and creativity of authors and researchers and students."

Of interest to those of you reading this might be the luncheon speaker, with a presentation on the history and evolution of comic books. This will include a mention of how Hofstra and the comic book world were intertwined when HU became the model for Dick ("Robin the Teen Wonder") Grayson's alma mater, Hudson University. And who better to speak of such matters than the writer of those stories, a Hofstra alumnus and veteran of the comic book business?

Yes, that would be me.

CTY 2010

2010-08-11T12:30:00.002-04:00

Six weeks, twenty-six students, 140 writing assignments. That would sum up my two sessions of Writing & Imagination at CTY Chestertown this year.

But a mere summary does not include the odd and interesting highlights, such as...

Finding a bat (the live kind, like the one that flew in Bruce Wayne's window), on the third floor of our classroom building. While none of the students were inspired to become superheroes, they did have to write "I am the Bat" and explain how it got there. When I brought the class up to see it, one of the boys, by then well aware that I'll use almost anything as a prompt, turned to me and said, "We're going to write about this, aren't we?"

Seeing one of the most incredible sunsets ever. One evening, my dormmate Jim came in and said, "You have to come out and look at this." With our fellow roomie Troy, we went outside and watched a spectacular mixture of pinks, reds, oranges, purples, and blues in a tapestry that spread across the western sky. At one point, Jim said, "When do we stop watching?" I replied, "I guess when it's dark." Troy was able to capture it on his cellphone camera and, while the pictures don't really do it justice, they are something to remember it by.

Joining some past and present Bay Ecology instructors on a test run of one of their field trips to the Sassafras River. We drove into a preserve that was part forest and part cornfield, hiked down a path to the river and then along the shore to a pond filled with giant lily pads. It was truly something worth seeing.
But, lest you think the site was something never before found by civilization, some boaters had set up a tiki bar and a live rock band on a sand bar nearby.

Dr. Nefarious' plan to take over the world. One of the numerous personalities I adopt in writing prompts, Dr. N. is the world's most evil villain. During the second session, he won the support of the students by promising them an endless supply of cookies, French fries, and soda and each newly recruited minion was assigned a number. (My class even recruited students from other classes to the cause, resulting in kids coming up to me at lunch and in the swimming pool, asking what minion number they could be.)
Of course, this resulted in a writing assignment, an encyclopedia entry about how Dr. Nefarious became ruler of the earth. In my own contribution, a sidebar by Dr. N. himself, he recounts, "And so I have gained control of the entire world without a single shot being fired. Without a single casualty, in fact. Unless, of course, you count my minion army of burping, fat kids."

"...and Other CTY Lunchtime Stories." During one lunch, I overheard one of my fellow instructors saying to a student, "Sheldon, eat the whole banana!" I mentioned it to Amy, my Teaching Assistant, as something that could inspire a writer, much as Agatha Christie was prompted to write the novel Why Didn't They Ask Evans? after hearing someone say it on a bus. Sheldon, Eat the Whole Banana, and Other CTY Lunchtime Stories could become a bestseller.
It became a running gag for us, adding the tag each time we heard someone say something odd or amusing. By the end, it had spread among other members of the staff, to the point where the line was used quite regularly. Now all we need to do is write the book.

The sidewalks and landscaping getting finished the day before we left. As I mentioned in a previous post, the sidewalk in front of our dorms was torn up and was then gradually replaced with brick walkways. In a flurry of activity in the last week, the brickwork was completed and enough flora to stock a nursery or three was planted in front of the buildings.
We never did get to enjoy an evening sitting outside, but it will be interesting when we return next summer to see how much of the foliage has survived.

There was much more, of course -- games of Ultimate Frisbee and poker, kayaking on the Chester River, a game of Word Assassin that seems to still be going on (my co-instructor Lauren seemed to be winning at last report), crab night, magic cookie bars, visits from staffers from prior summers. But, like Brigadoon, CTY 2010 has vanished from sight, living on only in the memories of those who were a part of it.

The Boys (and Girls) of Summer

2010-07-19T20:55:00.004-04:00

In what seems to have been the blink of an eye, we are already into the fourth week of CTY, which, as some of you know, means that the first group of students have been and gone and the second class has just arrived. With an almost instant turnover of students, it is hard the first couple of days to not be looking for a first session student when gathering the class after lunch or a break. Or to be calling one of this session's students by the name of one from last session.

This summer, my perennial teaching partner Lauren and I had separate classes for the first session, but have been reunited to teach a single class for the second. We both used the same syllabus for the first session -- one we collaborated on changing during the past "off-season" -- but each of us chose some different examples and writing exercises to focus on. Now that we are teaching together, we are comparing notes on what each of us did, deciding what worked or didn't, and coming up with a third version of the course. And, of course, we are throwing in new material based on ideas that occurred to us along the way. (This evening I have written a short story using as many cliches as I can, the basis for an exercise on how not to write an entertaining tale.)

The class has evolved every year since we started teaching it in 1993, though there are some things that are always there. CTY kids always ending up glowing green as the result of Ima Server's mishandling of Dr. Wolfgang's jellyfish samples from the Marianas Trench. Walter W. Weebil continues to hawk cole slaw container lids as a fabulous toy. And "Wayward grandfather / Where are you going to now? / Just to the bathroom," a haiku composed by my brother Richie and me during a Father's Day brunch many years ago, remains in my samples of poetry.

But like any piece of writing, the class can always be made a little better with some careful tweaking.

==

I have on occasion talked about lovely, bucolic Chestertown, Maryland, home to Washington College, our CTY site. I'm sure many of you have heard the old cliche about a town being so small that they roll up the sidewalks at night. Well, that is just what has been happening here this summer.

Since we've arrived here, the college has been systematically removing the sidewalk that runs in front of our dorm buildings and, based on what we have observed, will eventually replace it with a new brick walkway. In the meantime, however, our first two rainless weeks meant that we were walking through a dust bowl that turned us all a light shade of brown. (Those few folks who opened their windows found a fine layer of grit covering everything in their rooms.) We have since had a number of thunderstorms -- including one earlier this evening -- that have turned the entire area into a giant mud puddle.

We are hopeful that this project will be completed sometime before we leave. The area in front of our dorms has always been a social center; staffers traditionally sit outside and chat till all hours of the night. This year, however, the path we have for getting out is barely a wide enough to walk single file and the only socializing takes place when two people have to shimmy past each other.

For now, however, the sidewalks remain rolled up.

You Could Look It Up

2010-06-30T23:02:00.002-04:00

Here's one of the ways technology has changed things.

I'm currently at Washington College in lovely, bucolic Chestertown, Maryland, for my annual summer stint teaching Writing & Imagination in the Johns Hopkins Center for Talented Youth program. This morning at breakfast, one of my students came over and told me that her mother had Googled me and passed along a host of information, presumably from the Wikipedia entry about me.

This prompted one of my fellow instructors, who was sitting with me, to say, "There's a Wikipedia page about you? Did you make it yourself?" When I replied that I had not created the page and that I do not even know who did, she said, "So, are you famous?"

Well, I suppose if having a page in Wikipedia makes one famous, I suppose I am, but my life and career are probably only of interest to comic book fans... and, it would seem, the parents of my writing students. But the option is there for anybody with internet access and, as Casey Stengel would say, "You could look it up."

In the Swim (or Not)

2010-06-20T20:50:00.003-04:00

An article in the Daily News this morning reports that kids in four working class neighborhoods in New York City will not be able to swim in their local city pools this summer. Though some fifty other city pools will be opened, these four -- one each in Brooklyn, Staten Island, Queens and Manhattan -- will not be opened due to the budget crunch and this will save the city $800,000.

How much use do the four pools in question get, you may wonder. According to the article, the total number of visitors last year was about 100,000 people and by my rough calculation, that's 1,300 per day. Quite a few sweaty folks on a hot, muggy summer afternoon.

While I'm sure there are those who would suggest that charging admission to cover the costs would be viable, $8 a day per person is a bit steep. So, instead, let me propose another alternative. First, we'll ignore the fact that New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg is the eighth richest person in the world, with a personal fortune of $18 billion, and could foot the bill without blinking an eye.

Let's instead turn to some of the highest-paid people working in the City, the New York Yankees. If just the eight highest-paid members of the team -- Alex Rodriguez, Derek Jeter, Mark Texiera, CC Sabathia, Jorge Posada, AJ Burnett, Andy Pettitte, and Mariano Rivera -- kicked in $100,000 each (a drop in the bucket when you consider what they are paid each season), the four pools could be opened.

Imagine the good will they could generate, especially in light of another story in the paper about the outrageous processing and courtesy fees baseball fans paid (on top of the already-exorbitant ticket prices) to attend the games between the Yankees and the Mets this weekend.

**

The article also reports that city will save another $600,000 by ending the swimming "season" two weeks early, closing the remaining fifty pools on August 22nd. Maybe they've read something in The Farmer's Almanac that leads them to believe otherwise, but in all my years living in the NY Metro area, it's always remained pretty hot right through the end of August and into the Labor Day weekend.

But we won't ask the Yankees to foot that additional cost. There is, after all, another highly-paid team across town and it would only require the six highest-paid Mets to cover it.

Eggplant Burgers

2010-06-18T10:48:00.002-04:00

I don't think I ever expected to be posting a recipe here, but Laurie and I have invented a tasty treat: The Eggplant Burger.

A week or so ago, we grilled some eggplant on the barbecue while making a steak for dinner. I remarked that the slices of eggplant were much like hamburger patties. That led to a discussion of what it would be like to have them on a hamburger bun. And this is what we came up with...

Peel an eggplant and slice it into 1/2" thick "patties."
Marinate in balsamic vinegar overnight.
Grill the patties over a high heat, flipping them over after two minutes.

Serve on a bun with a slice of mozzarella cheese, a slice of beefsteak tomato, and a fresh basil leaf. (Well, the basil leaf might be hard to find unless you happen to be growing it like we do.)

A splendiferous mingling of flavors for a tasty dinner!

World Blood Donor Day

2010-06-15T10:34:00.005-04:00

Yesterday I got an email from the New York Blood Center:

The World Health Organization has designated June 14th as World Blood Donor Day, "Celebrating the Gift of Blood." World Blood Donor Day celebrates those who donate their blood in order to save lives. This year's theme is "New Blood for the World" focusing on young donors.

New York Blood Center would like to thank both our young and "young at heart" donors on this special day. Please click on the following link to see our special video of thanks:
http://www.youtube.com/user/NewYorkBloodCenter#p/a/u/1/qdbfGWtNV4k

Remember, each day, New York Blood Center needs close to 2,000 people a day to roll up their sleeves to give the gift of life.Without volunteer donors, such as yourselves, our community would not have an adequate blood supply.

Thank you for being a donor with New York Blood Center.

As I've mentioned in a prior posting, only 2% of the population donates blood. Though there are a number of restrictions on who can donate -- prior and current medical conditions, exposure and potential exposure to a variety of diseases, travel -- there are still a lot more folks who could than do. And there is still no artificial substitute for blood; those who need it -- accident and burn victims, cancer patients, people needing surgery, et al -- rely on "the kindness of strangers" every single day.

You don't have to be as diligent a donor as I am (9+ gallons and more than 160 platelet donations); even a donation or two a year will make a difference. Someday you might be on the receiving end and you would be quite thankful that there were people who took the time to roll up their sleeves.

The Comicmobile

2010-06-03T09:56:00.005-04:00

About a month after I started working at DC Comics back in 1973, I arrived at the office one morning and was confronted by Vice President / Production Manager Sol Harrison. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

Startled, I replied, “I work here.”

“I know that. You’re supposed to be in New Jersey, picking up the Comicmobile.”

Yes, the Comicmobile, that fabled vehicle of comics history that many have heard of but few have seen (and even fewer have actually purchased anything from). For those of you who are unfamiliar with it: It was Sol’s idea that if kids living in the suburbs couldn't get to the old “mom and pop stores” that sold comics, we should bring the comics to them. So he leased a big blue van, had “The DC Comicmobile” painted on it, and plastered super-hero stickers all over it. Then he stocked it with leftover comics from the DC library and sent Michael Uslan (much later the executive producer of the Batman and Swamp Thing movies, among lots of other things) out on the streets of New Jersey to sell them.

When it was time for Mike to leave for the University of Indiana, Sol decided that I should take the Comicmobile to Long Island. And I knew I was supposed to pick it up, but Mike and I had worked it out that I would do so the following day.

Sol, however, did not agree. Midge Bregman, his secretary, handed me money for train fare, told me what little town in the Garden State I was taking the train to, and shooed me out of the office. They did give me time to make my one phone call -- to tell my parents I would not be coming home from work that night!

Mike met me with the Comicmobile and we spent the afternoon and evening riding around, ringing the bells and selling comics at local parks, beaches, and in front of other places potential customers were gathered. He had "lovely assistant” named Robin working with him and, frankly, I think she attracted more than one father of small children over to be persuaded into buying a few comic books.

I slept at Mike’s parents’ home that night. They were as surprised to have an overnight guest as I had been when I learned from Sol I was going to be one. And the next morning, after going over what was in our “inventory” and how to keep track of the money, Mike was off to Indiana University and I was on the road back to Long Island.

Those of you who are unfamiliar with the roads of the New York metropolitan area probably don’t know that there are no commercial vehicles allowed on the parkways; they are only allowed on expressways and turnpikes. The Comicmobile, decked out with all its superhero decals and such, would not qualify as anything other than commercial. Needless to say, it made my trip home all the more interesting as I had to abandon some of the familiar routes for other highways and byways.

At one point, while driving through New York City, I passed a college friend, who was quite startled to see me. Our paths have never crossed again and to this day, I’m convinced he thought my job in the comic book industry was delivering them to stores. And when I arrived home and parked the garish-looking van in front of the house, my father’s first comment was, “I sent you to college for four years so you could drive a comic book truck?”

The hardest part about driving the Comicmobile on Long Island had to be getting a vendor’s license for each of the townships I would be working in. Each town – Hempstead, North Hempstead, Oyster Bay, and Huntington – had its own set of requirements and its own set of rules. They did have one basic rule in common.

Where Mike had had it fairly easy in New Jersey, being able to drive to a local park or beach and set up shop in the parking lot, the powers-that-be on Long Island were nowhere near as liberal. I was prohibited from bringing the Comicmobile anywhere near beaches, parks, schools, and pretty much any other place kids might be. Instead, I was reduced to driving up and down individual streets, holding a set of bells out the window and ringing them vigorously. (Since DC had only leased the van, there was no way Sol was going to let me mount the bells on it.)

As those of you who have lived in areas that were served by an ice cream man might guess, I was often mistaken for someone selling Popsicles and Klondike Bars. There was, in fact, one little boy who would demand a Creamsicle every Thursday when I showed up. And all he ever had to pay for it was a nickel. I’m not sure what an ice cream bar cost in those days, but it was certainly more than 5c.

Over the six weeks that I drove the Comicmobile, I did develop something of a regular clientele. And some of the customers would request specific issues that I could often find among the leftovers in the DC library. This resulted in one of the most amusing tales of my Comicmobile adventures, when Joe Orlando tried to have me arrested.

One afternoon I was in the library, loading a box with a variety of books from the shelves therein. Joe, who did not know who I was, saw me and hustled down to the office of Vice President Sol Harrison. “Call the cops! There’s some kid in the library stealing books,” he told Sol.

Sol followed him back up the hall, took one look at me and said, “That’s not some kid; that’s Rozakis!”

For years after that, I would kid Joe about how he almost sent me to jail.

When school started, the Comicmobile’s hours of operation were severely reduced and Sol decided it was time for me to come back and work in the office. I’m sure part of it also had to do with the fact that we were barely making enough to cover the cost of gasoline the van was guzzling… and gas was only 20c a gallon at the time!

The Comicmobile was shipped off to comics dealer Bruce Hamilton out in the southwestern U.S. for continued "testing." The entire project, however, met an untimely end when the Comicmobile came out on the losing end of a collision with a semi.

Fanboys

2010-06-02T11:25:00.006-04:00

Long before I was a comic book professional, I was a fanboy, though we were not called that back then. We were often geeks or nerds to those who did not share our passion for comics, but we just thought of ourselves as fans.

My particular niche in fandom was as a letterhack, one of those readers whose letters appeared quite regularly in the books. From 1970 till I started working at DC Comics in 1973, there was not a month that went by that I did not have a missive or three appearing in print. All told, 135 of my letters were published.

Over the years, many people asked how I got so many letters printed. Well, I wrote a lot of them, over 500, in fact. And the fact that I typed rather than hand wrote them helped, I'm sure.
In my years at DC when I was on the other side of the lettercols, choosing the ones to use and writing the answers, I always appreciated the typewritten ones. There was one regular writer who always used a purple pen, using both sides of sheets of loose leaf paper. And while he often had interesting things to say, it was a pain reading his letters.

After three years of constant letter-writing, when I was in my senior year at Hofstra University, I decided to try to arrange a visit to the DC offices. I called their number, asked to speak with Julie Schwartz, and was put right through. I was startled when he answered; after all, this was like calling the White House, asking to speak with the President and suddenly finding the Commander-in-Chief answering his phone. Equally surprising was that Julie knew who I was and readily agreed to have me come up for a visit.

During that period, I had also started making up comics-related crossword and word-find puzzles for a couple of fanzines. Figuring that E. Nelson Bridwell, who was Julie's assistant editor and one of the first of the generation of fans who got into the comics business, would enjoy them, I brought copies along. As I was handing them to Nelson, Julie said, "Hey, what are those?" I explained, he grabbed them, and said, "I'll be right back." With that, he left the office, returning a couple of minutes later with Sol Harrison, the V.P. of Production.

Sol was impressed with my handiwork and asked if I could make up puzzles specific to Superman, Batman, and the Justice League. I replied that I could. "Then do three of each and we will buy them," he told me.
That was on a Friday afternoon. The following Monday I was back at DC with three crosswords, three word finds, and three mazes. I had used graph paper and a black marker to make the grids and lots of press-type for the numbers on the crosswords and the letters in the word-finds. All they needed was some stock art from the DC files and they were ready to go. For this, I received a check for $135 -- $15 a page, making me an "official" comics freelancer.

Over the next few weeks, I tried to come up with plots for stories that would interest Julie. Julie was receptive to my submitting them, but nothing got past the plot stage. (One that I recall had Superman getting a super-ulcer because he was stressed out over some problem; it was a story best left unwritten.)

Then one afternoon, I was sitting in the Hofstra yearbook office and got a phone call from Midge Bregman, Sol's secretary. She said that Sol needed to speak with me about something important, that they'd called my home and my mother had given her the yearbook number.
Sol got on the phone and asked, "Do you know anything about Tarzan?"
In fact, I knew quite a bit, as I had over the past year or so been reading all of Edgar Rice Burroughs' books -- not just the Tarzan novels, but the John Carter, Pellucidar, and lesser-known ones as well.
"Great," said Sol, "I need three Tarzan puzzles on Monday."
Graph paper, press-type, and black markers at the ready, I put the pages together and was at DC the following Monday morning. It turned out that Sol really did need the pages in a hurry; they were being used in a tabloid-sized collection of Tarzan stories that came out about eight weeks later, making those puzzles my first published work.

Concurrent with my visits and freelance work, DC had announced the Junior Bullpen Program, an idea of Sol's in which the company would hire a writer and an artist to work on staff. I had hoped that, with my inside track, I would be considered for the program.
So, with my college graduation imminent, I asked Sol if I had a shot at the program. To my surprise, he hired me as a production assistant and one of the first things he had me do was go through all the submissions he'd received for the program! (Among the "finalists" I culled from the mountain of submissions was that of Marty Pasko, another longtime letterhack whose name I knew but had never met. When Sol asked which one I would pick, I pointed out that Marty lived in New Jersey and it would be a lot easier for him to take the position than someone outside the NYC metro area. Sol agreed that it made sense and Marty got the nod.)

About a month after I joined the staff -- just in time for the big company move from 909 Third Avenue to 75 Rockefeller Plaza, by the way, leaving me wondering if one of the reasons I was hired was that Sol figured I could lift a lot of boxes -- Sol told me he had a new project for me. I would be taking over driving the Comicmobile from Michael Uslan. But that, as they say, is a story for another day...

**

A final note:

Outside of comics fandom, "fanboys" has a completely different meaning. It is a way to remember the seven words that are used as conjunctions in compound sentences. And while its use is now quite common -- I've had students in my CTY writing class tell me their teachers invented it -- you can trace its roots back to a grammar book written a number of years ago by my wife Laurie. She was writing about the conjunctions and asked me if I could come up with a mnemonic to make them easy to remember.
For, And, Nor, But, Or, Yet, So.

Who better to come up with that than one of the original fanboys!

Three Jacks

2010-05-25T09:07:00.002-04:00

[SPOILER ALERT: The following will discuss the last episodes of Lost, 24 and Law & Order.]

In a little more than 24 hours, three landmark television series came to an end. And in the world of cosmic coincidences, each had a major character named Jack.

The most ballyhooed conclusion was that of Lost, the end of which has been in the works for more than three years since the producers set a fixed target for wrapping up their story. Dr. Jack Shephard (Matthew Fox) was established as the hero from the very beginning (though there were originally plans to kill him off halfway through the first episode). Like all the other people who survived the plane crash, he had major character flaws. And, as in any good story, he overcame them and became a better person.

Opinions about the finale are quite mixed. Many fans complained that there were not enough answers. What was the deal with the electromagnetic energy? What was the significance of the numbers? What was the Island? Lost started out seeming to be a straight adventure show with some sci-fi elements thrown in (the monster) and we expected a logical explanation. We had to suspend our disbelief and accept a smoke monster, then time travel, then "magic."

But this was a show about people... and, as in real life, we will never get all the answers. There are plenty of things happening around us all the time and we will never know why or how they happen. And through it all, one thing remained logical and consistent -- the people. They evolved throughout the series and I don't think there is one of them that you could look at and say, "Wow, that's way out of character." That is the beauty of the story they told.

==

Unlike Jack Shephard, Jack Bauer (Keifer Sutherland) of 24 seemed to be infallible... and indestructible. In his most recent "very bad day," he was shot, stabbed twice and beaten up numerous times, yet he managed to carry out all his plans. And, as usual, his understanding of the situation was always the right one.

This season's adventure seems to have received more jeers than cheers from fans. There were numerous elements that echoed previous seasons, perhaps the most annoying being the discovery of yet another mole inside CTU. For a government agency pressed to battle terrorists and uncover plots against the nation, they have the worst record for vetting potential employees ever. An ex-boyfriend and a county sheriff did better at finding the mole than the personnel department at CTU.

As always, Jack uncovered the plot behind the plot and forced the exposure of it all by the end. As a result, President Taylor is about to resign and former President Logan has committed murder and suicide. (Talk about out-of-character actions: Taylor went from being the most level-headed 24 president since David Palmer to being one step removed from whacko Charles Logan, who became her advisor.)

And, also unlike Jack Shephard, whose final reward really was a reward, Jack Bauer ends the series as a fugitive from both the American and Russian governments, with the possibility of a theatrical movie in the works. Of course, Jack could just change his name and apply for a job at CTU. Given their record, it is unlikely they would discover him.

==

The final Jack is District Attorney Jack McCoy (Sam Waterston) of Law & Order. Though no longer a central player in the program, having moved up from being the tilting-at-windmills Assistant D.A. to barking-at-A.D.A.s boss, McCoy has been a mainstay of the program for sixteen years. (Does anyone even remember when Michael Moriarty filled the A.D.A. chair?)

Since the announcement that the show would not be renewed for a 21st season just came a few days ago, the season finale was not that different from many other episodes. It did bring to a close the career of Lt. Anita Van Buren, which they did know about because S. Epatha Merkerson announced she was leaving the series after seventeen years, but we get no other closure here.

I don't know that we will actually miss Jack McCoy the way we will miss Shephard and Bauer. Despite being part of our TV world for more years than the other two combined, we know very little about McCoy. Until recent years, the L&O formula did not allow for much character development, and what there has been since is minimal. Other than the promotion, the 1995 McCoy is not much different from the 2010 model.

Which is as it has to be. The police and the district attorneys will continue to protect the people of New York for many years to come, in reruns if nowhere else, so except for particular "ripped from the headlines" cases, what worked fifteen years ago should still be working fifteen years from now.

==

All three programs have made their mark. Law & Order established a format for police procedurals/legal dramas that has been successfully copied numerous times. 24 took the action/adventure format, glued it to the old movie serial concept, and provided a roller-coaster ride that often kept us on the edge of our seats, wondering what could possibly happen next. And Lost gave us a one-of-a-kind saga that is likely to be imitated but never equalled.

And for each, we say, "So long, Jack... and thanks for all the entertaining hours."

Collect Them All

2010-05-20T13:13:00.004-04:00

With magazine sales dropping ever lower, more and more publishers seem to be trying to boost sales by creating "Collector Editions." Specifically, publishing the same issue with a variety of different covers. Entertainment Weekly and TV Guide do it from time to time; if the cover feature is about a hot TV show or movie, there will be a set of covers, each featuring a different star or stars from it. It makes me wonder, though, how many extra copies they sell. Is there really much a collector's market for old issues of EW?

The variant covers have become a mainstay in the comic book business. In the first two weeks of May, for example, DC Comics produced a dozen comics with variant covers (and one of them had two). One can only presume that there are still enough fanboys out there clamoring to have one of every version that makes this viable.

But while this is now a gimmick to sell more copies of an issue, its origins in the comic book business were for the opposite reason: We had sold too many copies.

In the autumn of 1989, DC was releasing the first issue of Legends of the Dark Knight, a new Batman title. It was a period when comic book shops were plentiful, there were multiple direct market distributors of the books, and competition was fierce among them. Anticipating major sales of a new #1 issue starring the Dark Knight, the shop owners ordered substantial quantities.

[A quick aside to those who don't know how the "Direct Sale" comic book market works: In the traditional publishing business -- for books, magazines, newspapers, et al -- the stores receive copies on a returnable basis; whatever they sell they pay for and what they don't sell can be sent back for a credit. In the comic book business, the store owners order copies of the books at a substantial discount, but they cannot send them back, so they will order only what they think they can sell.]

When the orders for Legends of the Dark Knight #1 came in, they were much higher than expected. Bruce Bristow, who was head of the Marketing Department at the time, feared that there would be many thousands of copies unsold and that that could have a critical impact on the cash flows and financial stability of many of the shops. So he proposed a way to make the copies more collectible: We would add an "over-cover" to the issue, producing four different versions, that would prompt collectors to buy four copies of the book instead of one.

And that is what we did. LoDK #1 had four versions -- the same Bat-emblem with a lime green, blue, pale orange or magenta background. (You can get a look at them here: http://www.dcindexes.com/gallery/browse.php?select=!dc/legendsdarkknight) As hoped, the variants did increase the sales of the books for the shops. And a whole new marketing ploy took hold in the comics business.

One amusing note about LoDK #1. As the Production Director, I was directly involved with this, including ensuring that equal numbers of each version would be shipped to each distributor and, through them, each store. To that end, I was in the Ronalds Printing plant as the books were being bound and watched as one of each version came off the machine consecutively, over and over. Every carton of 200 books contained 50 of each and if you pulled any four consecutive copies out, you would have one of each.
Within the first week of sales, however, we started getting reports about how the blue version was the rarest or how we had under-printed the orange version to make it more collectible. All of this supposition was based on someone going to his local shop and finding differing quantities of each color. But the reason there might be no more of a color was not that we had under-printed them; it was that that color was the most popular. Not everyone was going to buy four copies of the same magazine; those readers who bought only one picked the color they liked best. In fact, if the shop had only the magenta ones left, that is the version least likely to be in collections... and it would ultimately be the rarest!

In the two decades since, all the comic book publishers have jumped on the multiple-cover bandwagon. So it must still be working as a way to pump up sales or they presumably would have stopped by now. But with standard comic books selling for $2.99 to $3.99 each, how many readers can afford to buy more than one? And after you've read one copy, are you going to even open another?

Too bad I'm not selling this blog. It would be interesting to see what would happen if I posted this same essay with four different titles...

Law & Order: Comic Book Unit

2010-05-18T12:24:00.004-04:00

Last night's episode of Law & Order began with a man who was murdered, apparently by someone who stole his collection of rare Golden Age comic books. That the victim was locked in a dog cage and run through with a sword, well, I suppose that was their not-so-subtle jab at comic book fans being odd.

The detectives visited a comic book shop and a discussion of the missing books began. Green Lantern #6 was mentioned, as was All-Flash. But then, presumably to drive home that these were not million-dollar copies of Action Comics #1 or Detective Comics #27, they mentioned Johnny Thunder, Doctor Mid-Nite, and the Gay Ghost. The latter resulted in a raised eyebrow from one the detectives, but it was explained that the term had a different meaning in the 1940s. "He was cheerful." (In the 1970s, when DC reprinted one of the stories, the character was rechristened the Grim Ghost.)

As the comic book readers among you know, neither Johnny Thunder nor Doctor Mid-Nite nor the Gay Ghost had their own magazines. The first JT, he of the magic Thunderbolt that was summoned any time he said "Cei-U" (pronounced "say you," so he said a lot more often than he planned), was a back-up feature in Flash Comics through much of the Golden Age.
A cowboy hero of the same name debuted at the end of the 1940s and starred in All-American Comics and All-American Western. The only time there was a comic book titled Johnny Thunder was in the 1970s and it featured reprints of the cowboy's adventures.
Doctor Mid-Nite, the blind crimefighter with an owl as a sidekick, prowled the night in All-American Comics and was a member of the Justice Society in All-Star Comics.
The Ghost appeared as a back-up in Sensation Comics and never had his own title.

The missing comic book collection turned out to be part of a larger scheme. The victim had intended to hide his money from his wife by claiming to have lost a fortune by investing in a less-than-collectible assortment of comics. Other than another comment about the Gay Ghost, it did not come back into play until the courtroom scene at the end.
During questioning, the D.A. holds up a comic book (in a Mylar Snug) as one of the books in the collection. Rather than using an actual Golden Age book, it was a dummy titled Team Action.
Team Action?! Really? If you're going to go to the trouble of making a fake book, why not at least continue the thread and have a fake issue of The Gay Ghost?

One final note on the episode: As soon as I saw that comic books were involved in the plot, I expected to see that the writer was long-time L&O and comics scribe Gerry Conway.
'Twas not the case, however. If it had been Gerry, it's a safe bet all the comic books mentioned would have been real.

MIA: The Secret Society of Super-Villains vs the Freedom Fighters

2010-05-10T12:29:00.004-04:00

Of all the comics I wrote, what quite often comes up is a trio of issues that were never published. Those would be #s 16 through 18 of Secret Society of Super-Villains, featuring an epic battle between the SSoSV and the Freedom Fighters. The first two of the three were "published" in Cancelled Comics Cavalcade, a Xerox-copy compendium of books that were written and drawn, but bit the dust as part of the "DC Implosion." The third chapter exists only as a script.
For the benefit of those who have recently asked (and those who might in the future), I'm reprinting a lightly-edited version of the recap that appeared in my online column for Comics Bulletin some nine years ago.

Those of you who are not comics fans can click over to something else now...

A figure in the shadows says, "This is your ultimate assignment, Secret Society - destroy the Freedom Fighters!" Being blasted by Mirror Master and Chronos (with Copperhead standing by, ready to pounce) are all seven of the FFers: Human Bomb, Doll Man, Uncle Sam, Firebrand, Phantom Lady, the Ray, and Black Condor.
Yes, it's Secret Society of Super-Villains #16, with a cover by Alex Saviuk and Dick Giordano. "Murder Times Seven" (scripted by yours truly, with art by Dick Ayers and Mike Vosburg) opens with the Silver Ghost, perpetual foe of the Freedom Fighters, hiring the SSoSV to kill his enemies. Paying the tab by turning a desk to solid silver, Ghost tells Mirror Master and Copperhead that he wants them to recruit Chronos, Killer Moth, Quakemaster and Sizematic for the job. When Mirror Master points out that "some of your choices are strictly second-rate," Silver Ghost replies that he's the one footing the bill.
We switch to Provincetown, Massachusetts and Kane's Kolossal Circus, where the Freedom Fighters have taken up residence and new identities as "Travelin' Sam's Six Man (and One Girl) Show." Darrel Dane gets a phone call from girlfriend / newswoman Martha Roberts, advising him that the Silver Ghost has been spotted in Metropolis, Central City, Sun City, and Coast City.
Uncle Sam decides the team should split up to investigate. He and Doll Man will go to Sun City, while Phantom Lady and Black Condor fly out to Central City. The Ray does not like this plan… seems he wants to spend more time with the FFers distaff member. When she rebuffs him, he storms out, saying he'll handle Metropolis himself!
Shortly, in the sky above Superman's home town, The Ray spots the Silver Ghost flying right towards him. However, his target turns out to be Quakemaster riding on the back of Killer Moth, disguised thanks to KM's "illusion gimmick." The hero is zapped a number of times by Quakemaster and crashes to the streets below. When Killer Moth remarks that non one could survive such a fall, Quakemaster replies, "I know - but maybe we'd better check the body just in case." (It's a good idea, especially since we already know that The Ray was to turn up alive in his own solo series in Black Lightning.)
Killer Moth and Quakemaster can find no trace of a splattered Ray on the streets of Metropolis, but give up their search when Moth says the hero was "a being composed entirely of light energy. It's quite possible that the impact with the ground completely disintegrated his form and scatter The Ray like a million fireflies."
Deciding this must be the case, they head back to tell the Silver Ghost they've succeeded. But, "many hours later," we find the battered hero crawling out from a pile of newspapers in the alley. Seems he spotted them at the last second during his fall and they cushioned his landing. (A footnote advises readers to next seek The Ray in Black Lightning#11. Amusingly, that story had The Ray falling into Metropolis Harbor rather than onto a pile of newspapers.)
Moth and Quakemaster arrive at SSoSV headquarters with news of their victory as the Silver Ghost is watching a TV monitor. On it, Uncle Sam and Doll Man seem to be chasing the Silver Ghost. This time, it is Copperhead and Sizematic pulling off the illusion and the confrontation is the cliffhanger for this issue.

"Congratulations, Freedom Fighters - you've been suckered!" So taunts Sizematic, who, along with Copperhead, has lured Uncle Sam and Doll Man into a trap in Sun City, Florida.
That's the splash page as penciled by Dick Ayers that would have appeared in Secret Society of Super-Villains #17, had there been one.
As Copperhead wraps up Uncle Sam, Doll Man shrinks to escape the huge Sizematic, only to discover (as the Teen Titans learned when they faced the villain) that there are actually two Sizematics; one who can grow larger and one who can shrink. Though the heroes fight valiantly, both are eventually overcome.
And we switch back to SSoSV headquarters where the Silver Ghost has been watching the battle with Killer Moth and Quakemaster. After boasting about how he will see to it that all seven Freedom Fighters will die, the Ghost switches channels (and so do we) to Central City, where Black Condor and Phantom Lady are following their own lead to their foe.
As the heroes fly (Condor carrying Phantom Lady in his arms) above the city, Sandy asks him why he's never made a pass at her the way The Ray and Human Bomb have. But, before he can answer, the world seems to turn upside down. Turns out to be the handiwork of the Mirror Master, creating a massive optical illusion. When Chronos tosses his Time-Toller, with which he can make time seem to pass incredibly fast or amazingly slowly, the two heroes are overcome and fall out of the sky right into the villains' ship.
Back at the Sinister Citadel, with the four captured heroes encased in Lucite blocks, the Silver Ghost dispatches Quakemaster and Killer Moth to take care of the Human Bomb while he sets out to confront Firebrand himself. Meanwhile, aboard a plane heading for Coast City, Roy Lincoln is explaining to Rod Reilly how he became the Human Bomb. (As I'd done in issues of Freedom Fighters with the other members of the team, I worked in a one-page recap of the Bomb's origin.) When the two men deplane in Coast City, they are confronted immediately by the Silver Ghost.
Quakemaster and Killer Moth battle the Bomb, defeating him after Moth covers him in a cocoon-spray that prevents him from using his explosive powers. As the fight concludes, Firebrand sneaks up behind the FFers' foe. "Not too bright, Ghost. You've dropped your guard - let me walk right up and get you."
"On the contrary, Firebrand, this entire battle has been orchestrated to bring us face-to-face again."
"Again?! We've never met before."
"Of course we have, Rod Reilly!"
"R-Reilly!?! You know my other identity?"
"Certainly. Just as you know who I am!" With that the Silver Ghost unmasks and Firebrand shouts, "YOU?!" And as we stare at the unmasked face of the Silver Ghost, the bottom blurb (this being page 17, after all) advises us that the explanation will have to wait for next issue, leaving everybody wondering just who it is beneath the mask.
And that was all of the story that appeared in Cancelled Comics Cavalcade.

BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE!
Well, of course I wasn't going to leave you hanging without the answers to the Freedom Fighters / Secret Society battle. Especially since the script had been written and I have (probably) the only existing copy.
"The Final Encounter" opens in the Sinister Citadel, where the Silver Ghost and his crew of villains have the six captured Freedom Fighters securely wrapped up. (The Ray, remember, was presumed dead, but instead turned up in his own back-up series in Black Lightning.) In the center of the room, Firebrand is bound into a chair and the Silver Ghost is berating him.
"Twelve years, Reilly. For twelve years I've waited for you to show yourself on this Earth. That is how much revenge meant to me."
The Ghost explains via flashbacks that he is actually Richard Von Zell and that he was chief Nazi magistrate of America back on Earth-X. Firebrand, posing as a collaborator, would bring information about rebel movements to Von Zell. However, they would actually lead the Nazi agents into traps, where, as Rod Reilly, the resistance leader, he would capture or kill them. Von Zell vows to kill Reilly, but learns that he had escaped to Earth-1. The villain, carrying an armload of silver bars to use to pay his way, crosses the dimensional barrier as well. But just as the journey changed or enhanced the powers of the Freedom Fighters, it turned Von Zell into a Midas with a silver touch.
With his new power, Von Zell became Raphael Van Zandt, amassing power and wealth. "When the Freedom Fighters appeared, I was convinced they had come looking for me. I created the Silver Ghost identity so I could destroy them! How fortunate it was that they lured YOU into the open before I was able to kill them."
Though the Freedom Fighters expect The Ray to show up at any moment, the Ghost tells them their compatriot is dead; and that Firebrand will be next, with a bullet in the head. But Firebrand has broken free of his bonds and a fight between them ensues. The hero charges the villain and grabs him, but the touch of the Ghost starts turning Firebrand to solid silver. Momentum carries hero and villain crashing through the window and they plummet to the ground far below, locked in a death-grip.
Back upstairs, the other five Freedom Fighters break free, leading to a free-for-all with the villains. With lots of teamwork, the heroes wrap up the seven villains.The battle ended and the police on the way, Condor goes to check on Firebrand and the Ghost. "I was hoping Rod would have survived in that silvery state, but the impact shattered his body into a million slivers of silver."
"What an irony," says Phantom Lady, "that he should be the last casualty of a World War that took place on another world."
"Rod Reilly - Firebrand - was a true American on any Earth," adds Uncle Sam.
With the Silver Ghost dead, the Freedom Fighters realize they have no way to ever prove their innocence. Rather than continue to live as fugitives on Earth-1, they decide to return to Earth-X. "After being joined by newswoman (and soon to be Mrs. Darrel Dane) Martha Roberts, the Freedom Fighters add one more "crime" to their police records: An unauthorized use of the S.T.A.R. Labs transporter in San Francisco."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was how the story was going to end.

Updates on This and That

2010-05-07T08:26:00.004-04:00

Less than a week after the pool was opened, the water temperature was into the high 70s by Wednesday afternoon. That made it perfect for a dip after I rode home from work on my bicycle. (Obviously, I had also ridden the bike to work Wednesday morning, but there is no pool at the office end of the trip.)

Snorkleduck emerged as the most optimistic with a reading of 79, followed by Swanee at 78 and Ducky at 77. Even Tommy Turtle reflected an increase in temperature, moving all the way up to 66 degrees.

==

The bags of leaves, clippings, et al, which had reached five in all by Sunday, were finally taken on Monday by the recycling truck.

From the start of the program, they have been tossing the newspapers into the same truck with the cans, bottles and plastic containers. Now, it appears, they also toss in the bags of "garden waste." One has to wonder what happens at the other end when they empty the truck; does some poor soul have to go through and sort it all at the dump?

==

You may recall that in last November's elections, the candidate who ran on a "tax revolt" platform was elected to the county legislature. Last week we received a newsletter from him, proclaiming that he had procured $46,000 for the renovation of the baseball diamonds at two of our elementary schools.

These fields are used by various Little League teams during the spring and by adults playing pickup games on Sunday mornings. They have been in the same condition -- all dirt on the infields and scrubby weeds in the outfield -- since before Chuck played t-ball two decades ago. I have no idea what $46,000 will buy in terms of ball field renovation, but I'm sure there are better ways to spend that money in light of all the cuts being made in the funding for the education of the children in those elementary schools. "Sorry, kids, we couldn't afford math books this year, but let's get out there and play some baseball. We can add up the runs!"

==

Speaking of school budgets, the local school board announced that this year's increase is only 1.96%. One can only presume that they worked really hard to make sure that number ended up below 2% because, as we all know from shopping, $1.96 is a lot less money than $2.00! Psychologically, anyway.

==

And, finally, in the "What do critics know anyway?" Department: Despite negative reviews from every corner, "The Addams Family" appears to be pulling in the big audiences -- and the bucks.
But one really does have to wonder how the totally lackluster score managed to get a Tony Award nomination. Are the rest of the musicals on Broadway this year even worse?

First Dunk 2010

2010-05-03T12:37:00.003-04:00

Though the temperatures were in the low 40s the night before, we had the pool opened up this past Thursday. Just in time, it turns out, as the weekend saw another round of "instant summer" with temps in the low 80s.

As those of you who know me (or read last year's First Dunk installment) would expect, I was in the pool on Saturday. Our "Temperature Team" of thermometers said the water was somewhere between 67 and 70 degrees, with the ever-optimistic Swanee at the top and Ducky and Snorkleduck agreeing. Alas, Tommy Turtle, ever the slowpoke of the group, said the water was 54 degrees; though he'll continue to be part of the team, we won't be giving much credence to his readings. Needless to say, the water was "bracing," but quite refreshing after I had been replacing some fence slats and digging up a new section of garden for the vegetables.

The water was slightly warmer yesterday; by 4:00 Swanee had it at 73 and both ducks were at 70. After the usual assortment of Sunday chores, I had some time to sit and read poolside and also got in a few more dunks.

With the warm weather forecast to continue through the week, I expect a couple of after-work bike rides will be followed by a dunk. But it will be awhile yet before the first midnight swim...

Taking Out the Trash

2010-04-28T10:38:00.004-04:00

I read recently that the per capita amount of trash generated in this country has increased substantially over the past two decades. This is not surprising, especially when you consider that it is usually cheaper these days to buy a new refrigerator, computer, or vacuum cleaner than it is to have the old one repaired.

Hand in hand with the increase in trash, however, has been the increased emphasis on recycling. Paper, plastic, glass, metal, grass and yard clippings -- they all now have their place in our local recycling program. In many areas, people are required to separate the glass from the plastic from the metal; our local program allows us to put them all in the single can. (As Laurie has often pointed out, the stuff is all being dumped into a single truck, so demanding that we sort it would be pointless.) There does seem to be some secret rule regarding plastic, however, and it appears not all the sanitation men know it because sometimes they take the little plastic trays that tomato plants, etc. come in and other times they reject them.

Rejection comes in two ways. Sometimes, they take out the "offending" items and leave them next to the can, taking the rest. Other times, they just leave the can standing at the curb with no explanation, leaving us to wonder why. One time, they stuck a flyer about what was recyclable in the handle of the can. I read through it, but, as there was nothing new or different in the can than in previous weeks, I couldn't figure out what was being rejected. So I left it there... and the following week, they took everything.

Paper recycling is a particularly odd item. They insist that newspapers be separated from magazines, junk mail, etc. One would presume that this is because newspapers are printed on uncoated paper, unlike magazines, but there are magazines printed on newsprint and sections of the newspaper (the Sunday magazine and most of the ad flyers, for example) that are printed on coated stock.
Far more puzzling is the insistence that the newspapers be tied into bundles; putting them into a supermarket bag -- which is made out of recycled paper -- is not acceptable. Nor is using a heavy duty rubber band to bundle them acceptable, apparently. I tried that one time and they left the bundle sitting at the curb.
I have tired of the newspaper bundling rules, by the way. We get four newspapers each day and they pile up fairly quickly. Now I stop at the train station every week or so and dump our entire pile into the recycling bin there -- no bundling is required.

As far as grass clippings, leaves, etc, well, they have me completely baffled.
I made the apparent mistake of putting a can of clippings out on the regular trash day. They left it.
I put it out on recycling day. They left it.
I emptied the can into a plastic bag and put it out on trash day. They left it.
The bag is now sitting at the curb, waiting to see if it will be taken on the next recycling day.
If they leave it again, I'm not quite sure what I'll do. Maybe I'll just have to empty the bag on a windy day and wait for the clippings to blow away.

Who Do You See?

2010-04-25T13:30:00.003-04:00

One of my favorite Bill Cosby lines: "You know you're getting old when you look in the bathroom mirror and say, 'Dad!?'"

I was out on a bicycle ride yesterday afternoon, something I do fairly often, especially now that the weather has gotten nicer. Along the way, I passed a group of kids, five or six of them, probably about 13 years old. As I passed, one of the boys yelled out, "Hi, Grandpa!"
I responded with my best Walter Brennan imitation, saying, "Hi, there, sonny!"

The interchange got me thinking. What the kids -- and everyone else I pass -- see is a balding older man on a bicycle. But is that how I see myself?

The first time I rode my bicycle to a specific destination was probably when I was in sixth grade. Certainly, I'd been riding it around our cul-de-sac neighborhood for years before that, but it was probably the spring of 1963 that I convinced my parents to let me ride to school instead of taking the bus. The trip was about a mile and, except for crossing Elmont Road, it was all back streets. (Even as I am writing this, I'm thinking that I had probably ridden to the library, a similar route to the school one, but much shorter, before this.)
It was also in sixth grade that I became friends with one of my classmates, Michael, who lived about as far from us as he could and still be in the same school. So it was not long after I started riding to school that I also started riding to his house. (Those of you reading this who are of my generation remember the days before parent-arranged play-dates; if you wanted to play with someone, you rang their doorbell and asked if they could come out and play.)
From that time on, through high school, my bicycle became my mode of transportation. (In addition to not arranging who we would play with and when, our parents rarely, if ever, drove us to someone else's house.) I was able to get around Elmont quite quickly, often making it from one friend's house to another's faster than people who were going by car.
Often I would just go out for a ride, my path determined by whether a traffic light was red or green when I got to it. Such rides often had me crossing paths with someone I knew, resulting in a conversation or visit that could not have been less planned.

So what am I saying with all this? Simply that when I am riding my bicycle these days, I do not picture myself as a 59-year old that others see. In my mind's eye, I'm still that ageless teenager... and always will be.

The Tax Final

2010-04-16T08:25:00.003-04:00

Way back when dinosaurs ruled the Earth and I graduated college with my degree in Accounting, my father told me that the true final exam would be doing my grandfather's tax return.

First of all, you have to recognize that this was long before programs like TurboTax existed, long before anybody had a home computer, and when calculators that could do just the minimal math functions cost hundreds of dollars. As such, all the entries -- and all the back-up math -- were done by hand.

Grampa's return was a challenge right from the start. He kept all of his "tax papers" in a large shoebox -- bills, receipts, bank statements, etc. -- unsorted. As they arrived during the year, he put them in the box. I sorted through them, isolating what was necessary for the return and what wasn't. When I would question a bill or receipt, he would tell me about it and add that, "your father told me to save everything." And he did.

Grampa and his wife (my step-grandmother, who we called "Aunt Marion"), lived in an apartment in Manhattan, but they also had a house in upstate Schroon Lake, where they spent the summer. Both of them were in their mid-70s, collected Social Security, and had no other source of income.

Well, that's not exactly true. In Schroon Lake, Grampa ran a "snack bar" -- serving breakfast, lunch, and such -- in a small building on the property. He later owned a luncheonette in town and then ran the concession stand at the local beach, the last when he was about 80. That first year I did his taxes, he made no profit from the snack bar. My father later confirmed that Grampa was lucky if he broke even in any given year.

Once I had all the papers sorted, I started filling out the various forms. There were lots of them and the only one I did not have to fill in involved the sale of farm equipment. (Had I mentioned this, I'm sure Grampa would have bought and sold a tractor the following year, just so we could fill out the form.) We spent most of the afternoon at the dining room table, getting the return done. Every now and then, my father would look in and chuckle.

Once the Federal return was completed, I had to do the New York State one, with yet another collection of forms. And when all was said and done, Grampa owed no taxes. This was not really a surprise, since he had virtually no income. I told him so, figuring he would be happy, but, instead, he said, "What about my refund?"
"Grampa, you didn't pay any taxes. There isn't any refund."
"Your father always gets me a fifty dollar refund."
I looked at the previous year's return, but there was no indication of a refund. "Did you get one last year?"
"Your father gets me one every year," Grampa insisted.

So I went to my father with the return. As he was flipping through it, I asked how he managed to get Grampa money back. "Oh, I just give him fifty bucks and tell him it's his senior citizen refund!"
"Well, I don't have $50 to give him!"
At which point my father handed me the money and said, "Give this to him." He then laughed and said, "And, by the way, you passed the test."

All Summer in a Week

2010-04-09T10:02:00.002-04:00

Those who thought that global warming was over following the "blizzaster" storms that we experienced earlier this year might be rethinking it now that we've had almost a week of summer to start April, including a record 85 degrees here on Long Island on Wednesday. (For those who might be wondering: No, we haven't opened the pool yet. Laurie thought about it, but the guys who do it haven't even started their work season yet.)

Some years ago, when the CTY summer program at Chestertown included a Meteorology class, we had one morning where the temperatures were in the 50s. This was quite startling, as those of us who had been through Maryland summers were quite used to heat and humidity. (One of my colleagues described our transit from air-conditioned dorm to air-conditioned classroom to air-conditioned dining hall as moving "from igloo to igloo through hell.")
As we were walking to the dining hall for lunch, I asked "Meteorologist Mike" how it could be so chilly if we were having a global warming. Mike's explanation was quite simple; he said that the climate change was going to result in abrupt and extreme weather changes...such as having a day of 50-degree weather in July.

Certainly the snowstorms that socked the Mid-Atlantic states earlier this year and the torrential rains that flooded the Northeast a couple of weeks ago qualify as extreme weather. There was snow on the ground in forty-nine of the fifty states -- Hawaii being the lone hold-out -- at one point this winter. Students who had never even seen the white stuff in their lives experienced the first "snow days" in states where the snow removal plan is "It will melt." (When Sammi tried to buy a snow shovel at a K-Mart near her, she was told that they don't sell snow shovels in Virginia.)

Now that the weather has returned to normal, it remains to be seen if our early week of summer is a fluke or if we'll experience more extremes. Last year we had three months of April and, if that pattern repeats, we might not see any more hot weather till the end of June. Whatever the case, it's not like we can do anything about it.

Unless, of course, you believe that the Chinese have mastered weather control and they are doing this just to screw with us.

They Said It Wouldn't Last

2010-04-05T09:09:00.002-04:00

Thirty-six years ago, Laurie and I were married in the Nassau County Courthouse by Judge Bea Burstein. The ceremony was attended by our parents and siblings, my grandparents, and a couple of friends. As it was a Friday morning, most of our friends were working and a 9:00 a.m. wedding was not easy to attend.

The reception was at a restaurant called The Viennese Coach that evening. It had been arranged only a few days earlier by Laurie's parents, so no printed invitations went out. In fact, since this was back when very few people had answering machines, only those people who were actually home to answer the phone when Laurie's mother called actually got invited. More than a couple of our friends were upset that they hadn't been invited.

Less than a dozen pictures of our wedding day exist, all of them taken by Laurie's father. Our friend Stephan Kravitz, who has photographically documented virtually every event before and since, acquiesced to the request of his then-girlfriend to not bring his camera.

We honeymooned in Mexico -- Acapulco and Mexico City, to be precise. Because we had to fit it into Laurie's teaching schedule, we were there during Easter Week. As a result, virtually everything was closed the entire time we were there. Added to that, I had a case of "Montezuma's revenge" and spent much of the Mexico City portion of the trip in "el bano."

We decided to come home a day early. Yes, back then it was easy and free to change your reservations. We had left both of our cars -- and our keys -- at my parents' house. We did not call to say we'd be home a day early -- long distance charges were outrageously high -- but we expected that someone would be there.

Imagine our surprise when we landed at Kennedy Airport and got no answer when we called. So we called Stephan, who came and picked us up and drove us to my parents' house. Indeed, my father, my mother, and both my brothers had all gone out somewhere. (And, since this was also long before the cellphone era, there was no way to get in touch with any of them.) The only one in the house was Skippy, but none of us had ever trained the dog to open the door.

Still, Laurie and I needed to get home to our Westbury apartment, the keys to which were with our car keys inside my parents' house. So, what did we do? We broke in! Well, to be precise, I broke in, then opened the door to let Stephan and Laurie in. All the time I was prowling around the house with a flashlight, with Skippy barking, not one of the neighbors looked out to see what might be going on.

I located our keys, took Skippy for a walk, and left a note explaining that we'd been and gone.

As it turned out, my father -- a captain in the NYC Fire Department -- was working. My mother, not expecting us back for another day, had gone to visit and stay the night with my Aunt Alice in New Jersey. And both my brothers were out on dates.

I don't recall who got home first, but my brother Jimmy says that the next morning he mentioned to my father that we were home. My father hadn't seen the note. "Didn't you notice that their cars were gone?" Jimmy asked him.
"I thought maybe you or Richie took them."
"We have our own cars. What would we be doing with four cars?"

Anyway, thirty-six years later, we are still together. And we've at least learned to take our keys with us.

E.T. Phone Home

2010-03-30T11:37:00.005-04:00

Sometimes I see a commercial on TV and wonder, what message are they really sending?

There's one for AT&T that's been running recently in which mom, dad, and very young son are at a restaurant. Mom gets up to go to the ladies room and the child immediately starts to cry. The father takes out his keys and starts to jingle them to amuse his son. The camera slides over to show spokesman Luke Wilson connecting to a video on his cell phone, which he then hands over to the dad to amuse the son. Of course, this works immediately.

Sure, the point they're trying to make is how quickly you can connect to the Internet and find something using AT&T. But the subliminal message is that Dad is incapable of taking care of his son and, rather than even trying, should just plug him in to a cartoon. But Mom does not have that problem; as soon as she returns, junior is happy again without the cartoon.

**

Another commercial, which ran about fifteen times during the shows I was watching last night, has Mom and young teenage daughter at the mall. It's the daughter's first day of "shopping on her own" and the commercial asks who you would trust her safety to? In this case, it's that great 3G coverage of Verizon and, particularly, something called "Family Finder."

Though they don't explain it, one can only surmise that rather than following her daughter around the mall, Mom is going to be somewhere tracking her movements on her cellphone. And then what? "Oh, dear, she's buying some too-revealing top at the Sluttique!" Or "Uh-oh, she's at the food court. I better swoop in and stop her before she eats something loaded with trans fats."

Or is it so dangerous at the mall that Mom needs to worry about her daughter being abducted by terrorists and has to be able to track her down when it happens?

**

Both AT&T and Verizon make a big deal about their maps and their 3G coverage. Well, unless you happen to be running all over the country all the time, why should you care?

I live on Long Island, I work five miles from home, and, other than an occasional visit to friends or family and my summer stint at CTY in Maryland, I'm always in the same few places using my cell phone. Does it matter to me which of them has better coverage in Butte, Boise, or Biloxi? No, all I care about is whether I can get a signal in my office, the house and the road in between.

**

Finally, let's not leave Sprint out of the mix. Their current commercial says that "very few people use their cell phone just for making phone calls." Well, call me old-fashioned, but that's exactly what I use mine for. It's a telephone!

If there's an urgent message you have for me, don't text me or send me an email. Call me on the phone. That way, we can actually have a conversation.
If a question comes up that requires an Internet search for the answer, it can wait till I get to a computer, either at home or the office.
And, frankly, if I missed my favorite TV show, the last thing I want to do is try to watch it on a 2-inch screen!

Not Creepy and Not Kooky

2010-03-25T13:23:00.005-04:00

"8:00 p.m. (Ch 7) ADDAMS FAMILY - Wednesday asks her parents to act "like normal people" because her new boyfriend's parents are coming to dinner. Gomez: Nathan Lane, Morticia: Bebe Neuwirth."

As a slightly-early anniversary treat, Laurie got us tickets to see "The Addams Family" musical on Broadway last night. Had it been a half-hour episode of the 1960s TV series, I'm sure it would have been quite funny. Unfortunately, as a two-hour musical, it doesn't work; the jokes are few and far between and what there is of a plot is stretched thin in the first act and becomes all but nonexistent in the second act.

Bebe Neuwirth is a worthy successor to Carolyn Jones as Morticia and the play makes use of her skills as a dancer by giving her a big number in the second act. (Laurie commented that one of the back-up dancers was actually better than Ms. Neuwirth. I did not notice, as I was watching her dance rings around Nathan Lane.) As Gomez, however, Mr. Lane is no John Astin. His accent was some odd conglomeration of Spanish, Yiddish, and Lane-ish and, despite his flair for the outrageous, he never reached the level Astin did every week on TV.

As Uncle Fester, Kevin Chamberlin does a fine job channeling Jackie Coogan and Zachary James is an appropriately stiff and inarticulate Lurch. Jackie Hoffman is an amusingly wacky Grandma, while Krysta Rodriguez and Adam Riegler are okay as Wednesday and Pugsley. On the other hand, Terrance Mann is wasted as the boyfriend's father, given only one song in the second act.

And speaking of the songs, there was nothing memorable among them. In fact, while listening to the lyrics to two of them ("Crazier Than You" and "In the Arms"), I found myself thinking that these could not be the real words, that they were so ridiculous they sounded like a MAD magazine parody rather than part of the actual show.

On the positive side, the set reflects a Charles Addams sensibility, particularly the scenes with staircases that cross and seem to go nowhere but up and down in the same room. And costuming and make-up were spot-on, particularly for the ghostly Addams ancestors.

Finally, for those who came as fans of the TV series, the Overture hints at the show's theme song. It leaves one hoping that the show will end with the cast singing it, but unfortunately it never gets past the finger-snapping.

While Laurie and I agreed that the show left a lot to be desired, there were some fellow passengers on the train home who had also seen it and they thought it was "hilarious" and "one of the best shows ever." I'm sure the producers are hoping for more audiences like them and not too many like us.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

2010-03-18T13:16:00.003-04:00

There aren't that many major life events that Laurie and I are invited to these days, so when we got invited Becca Roberson's wedding and Stephen Kassinger's Eagle Scout Court of Honor and both were taking place on the same day, we decided we would each attend one.

Becca's wedding date was in place long before the Court of Honor and we'd originally planned on driving down to Baltimore for it, where we would meet up with Sammi, who would be driving up from Virginia. But when we decided that I would be going alone, I opted to fly. Southwest's flights from MacArthur Airport on Long Island to BWI are numerous, quick, and relatively inexpensive. Sammi would pick me up at BWI and we'd head to the hotel from there.

So, Saturday morning, deciding also that leaving my car overnight was easier than having Laurie drive me there and pick me up again on Sunday, I drove off to the airport. Oh, by the way, it was raining.

The flight took off on time and everything went well. Sammi and her roommate Vanessa picked me up and we got to the hotel in time to have lunch with a group of our fellow CTY staffers before the ceremony. (Becca has worked at CTY since 1997 and has many friends from her years there, all of whom I have worked with as well. This was probably the biggest reunion of CTY Chestertown folks ever... and many pictures were taken to document it.)

The wedding ceremony was held in a nearby church and then we were all on our way to The Engineer's Club for the reception. Through the cocktail hour and dinner, it was like many other weddings, but when the disk jockey started playing the selection of music, it took on the feeling of a CTY dance... minus the fifth and sixth graders. (Becca had asked Sammi and Vanessa to select the music, something the two of them did many times in their years running the Residential staff at Chestertown.) Not surprisingly, the evening ended with everyone singing and dancing to "American Pie."

Our plan the next morning was for Sammi and Vanessa to drop me at BWI and head home. I had a 10:35 flight and we got to the airport at about 9:15. No problem.

Except that it was still raining on Long Island. Well, more than raining. It was like a monsoon, with 65 mile per hour winds, torrential rain, and no visibility. So our flight was being delayed until they knew they would be able to land when they got there. Okay, fine, not a problem, better safe than sorry. And we weren't even boarding the plane until they knew they would be taking off, so it wasn't like we were stuck sitting on the tarmac for hours.

At 11:00, they announced it would probably be another hour. At noon, they bumped it to 1:00. By then, there were passengers who were concerned about connections they would be missing. One woman asked the Southwest rep if she was going to be able to get to Long Island for a wedding Sunday evening; the rep said she could not say and asked, "You're not the bride, are you?"

Then, at 12:10, they announced that the flight was cancelled. And in thirty seconds, virtually everyone in the waiting area was in line to try and book a different flight. But with the monsoon continuing to blow in New York, there were no flights going to JFK or LaGuardia either.

My first thought was to rent a car and drive, so I called Laurie and asked her to go online and book me a car. Unfortunately, a one-way rental was prohibitively expensive. Besides, Laurie had a better idea: Just as we had done in December when Sammi's flight home was cancelled for three days in a row, AmTrak was the answer. She checked online and found a train I could catch at Baltimore's Penn Station that would get me to NYC by 6:00.

Suitcase in hand, I made my way to the LightRail station. I don't think it could have been any further from the Southwest terminal, by the way; I felt like I walked halfway back to Baltimore. Then it was about a half-hour ride to the train station. (Ironically, at one point I was just two blocks away from the hotel I had left five hours earlier.) I had time to grab a sandwich before getting on the train, so with food, drink and a book, I settled in for the three hour trip.

Remember all the rain I mentioned? Well, New Jersey got quite a bit as well, and as we made our way through the Garden State, I got a first-hand look at some of the "flooding in low-lying areas" that the TV news folks always talk about. We passed a park that I presume usually had a small lake at its center. I say I presume so because what I saw was a lake with submerged benches and an underwater playground.

When I got to New York, I had to catch a train to Farmingdale and, remarkably, I got there with ten minutes to spare. Another train ride and Laurie picked me up so we could drive to the airport and pick up my car. So much for saving any time or effort by driving there myself. Oh, and it was still raining, by the way.

It was about 8:45 when I finally walked into the house, almost twelve hours after checking out of the hotel. But, as Laurie pointed out numerous times, it could have been worse. I could have been sitting in the plane, unable to get off. I could have been somewhere that did not have direct train service. I could have been somewhere too far away to come home by train.

Or the rain could have been snow.

Spring Training

2010-03-08T20:52:00.004-05:00

Laurie was invited to Phoenix to speak at a conference last week and I went along so that we could make a long weekend out of it. That spring training games had started made the trip that much more attractive to me. And since Laurie looked upon sitting at a game as an opportunity to soak up some sunshine -- something that has been sorely missing at home these days -- she willingly came along on two of the three days.

We didn't order any tickets in advance; there are enough teams and enough ballparks in the area that I did not expect to have a problem. We arrived in Phoenix at about noon on Thursday, making the 1:05 starts a bit of a problem. Luckily, there was a 3:05 game, the White Sox versus the Angels at Tempe Diablo Stadium. We had time to check into the hotel, scope out the area, and then drive to the park. Thanks to tickets we got from a scalper in the parking lot, we were in the third row behind the White Sox dugout. I stood out among the rest of the fans there, wearing a Cubs hat. When a couple of people commented, I told them that I was, in fact, a Yankees fan, but they were in Florida. (The Cubs hat dates back to our last trip to Arizona, some fifteen years ago, when I met up with my Aunt Rena and her brother, die-hard Cubs fans, who insisted I go to Cubs games with them...and be suitably attired.) Though I had hoped to see ex-Yankee Hideki Matsui playing for the Angels, he did not get into the game. Nonetheless, it was a good game and it ended in a 4-4 tie.

On Friday, Laurie was tied up with the conference, so I was on my own. I decided that I would like to see the Dodgers and former Yankees manager Joe Torre, so I drive out to the Camelback Ranch complex that they share with the White Sox. This time I bought a ticket at the box office and ended up sitting, again, behind the White Sox dugout. Again, ChiSox fans commented about my hat, and one, seeing that I was keeping score, asked if I was a scout for the Cubs. The Dodgers won 7-3, in a game that seemed to be played at a more lethargic level than the previous day's. But I did get to see Joe Torre, albeit from across the field.

The original plan for Saturday was to go see the Cubs at Hohokam Park, since former Yankee Lou Pinella is the manager. The Cubs' opponent? Why, the White Sox, of course. But I wasn't locked on that, especially since I've been to Hohokam before, so Laurie and I started polling people for their suggestions about the best parks to visit. The concierge at the hotel suggested Camelback Ranch, which, of course, I'd just been to. We also asked a few of the city's "tourist aides" who patrol the streets of the downtown. (One turned out to be a big comics fan who was quite surprised to find out who I was.) The consensus seemed to be either Scottsdale, home to the Giants, or Peoria, shared home of the Padres and the Mariners.

On Saturday morning, I was leaning towards the Peoria park, where the Padres and Mariners were playing, over the Giants-Diamondbacks game at Scottsdale. Then we met a man in the hotel elevator who worked for the Giants; he offered to sell us a couple of tickets to the game, with seats right behind the dugout. After a walk around the downtown and a visit to the Rosson House, a restored building dating back to 1895, I decided that Peoria was our destination and off we went.

We were standing in the ticket line there when a man came buy and said, "Does anyone need two tickets?" I figured he was scalping, but when I asked how much he said, "Nothing. Merry Christmas." He had gotten more tickets than he needed -- his wife and daughter had opted to go shopping instead -- and so he just gave them away. As fate would have it, we were once again in the third row behind the dugout, though this time it was the Padres, rather than the White Sox. This game turned out to be the most exciting, with the Mariners winning 7-4, and I was glad I'd picked it.

We flew home Sunday afternoon, so there was no time for a fourth game. Just as well, as it turned out. Part of the odd winter they've been having in Phoenix, it was raining...and all the games were cancelled.