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I Can’t Wait!!!

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Christmas isn’t that far away, my friends, and this cover from a December, 1937 issue of The Modern Boy promises us great things are coming our way!

The Modern Boy was a weekly magazine that had exciting stories and pictures aimed at ten-year-olds in England. This cover showed a Dad and his son deciding on which toy they preferred.

All joking aside, this is a fairly accurate forecasting of us ordering stuff via the internet. The microphone sticking out of the set is a trifle alarming but remember that when this cover illustration was created, television in the home was at least ten or twelve years away. The artist based his TV set of the future on the large radios of the day and scored pretty near the mark. I like what appears to be a rotary telephone dial on the set; I guess that’s how you connect with the toy store.

Of course, two-way television communication was further off but it’s still a cool guess by folks 75 years ago at what our world would be like today.

Here’s another cover from an old publication; this one’s a dust-jacket cover from the 1912 book, Tom Swift and his Photo Telephone. Tom clearly anticipates iChat.

The form factor isn’t as accurate on this vision of the future, but it must have been a mind-blower to kids 100 years ago. Here’s some dialog where Tom and his dad discuss Tom’s amazing idea:

All right, Dad. Go ahead, laugh.'”

“‘Well, Tom, I’m not exactly laughing at you … it’s more at the idea than anything else. The idea of talking over a wire and, at the same time, having light waves, as well as electrical waves passing over the same conductors!'”

“‘All right, Dad. Go ahead and laugh. I don’t mind,’ said Tom, good-naturedly. “‘Folks laughed at Bell, when he said he could send a human voice over a copper string …”

One senses Tom’s frustration at his dad’s attitude, but we all know who came out looking foolish at the end of the book, don’t we?

There was another series of Tom Swift books when I was a kid; these were the adventures of Tom Swift, Jr, and he also had nifty ideas like space stations and solar batteries and a host of different metal alloys which were considered far-out at the time.

The Times They Are A-Changin’

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Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you
Is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’
Or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’.

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again
And don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin
And there’s no tellin’ who
That it’s namin’
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’.

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside
And it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’.

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin’
Please get out of the new one
If you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’.

The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin’
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’.”

Copyright © 1963, 1964 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1991, 1992 by Special Rider Music

Great Spirit Comic Books!

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I first encountered Will (or Bill, as the old comics guys called him) Eisner’s Spirit comics when I got a copy of Jules Feiffer’s The Great Comic Book Heroes. This stunning book, which I got for Christmas in 1966, was a chance for a 1960s kid to see for the first time what comic books had been like in the 1940s. Living in the Florida Keys, where we had moved earlier in the year, I had few chances to find old comic books for sale.

Oddly enough, while snorkeling one day, I discovered a stash of old comics that someone had evidently thrown overboard long ago in and around the marina outside our home in Marathon Shores. These comics were coverless and half-buried in the sand and silt about 15 feet deep on the salt-water side of the island where we then lived, but I’d dive for them and leave them to dry on the dock outside our house. Once dried, they were perfectly readable, if rather crinkly, and I was able over the summer to get 20 or 30 old DC comics in this fashion.

So I was primed to learn more, and Feiffer’s superb book was right up my alley. I then sent a letter to the Miami Herald asking where old comic books could be found, and they printed my letter and listed some shops in Miami that sold them. Armed with that info, I bugged my dad until he finally agreed to fly me the 107 miles to Miami!

One odd thing my dad did was keep $50 cars at a few airports he flew in and out of a lot. He’d never pay more than $50 for the cars, so they weren’t too spiffy, but they saved him the trouble of renting cars. We drove in whatever clunker Dad had stowed in Miami to several of the stores that the Herald had listed, and I was finally able to get a copy of a 1940s Spirit comic book. The Spirit feature had originally been part of a 16-page Sunday newspaper comic supplement from about 1940 to 1952, and Quality Comics had printed a magazine in the mid- to late-1940s showcasing the character. Eisner, being nobody’s fool, was smart enough to keep the copyrights and that was unheard of in comics at that time.

Will Eisner was a solid pro not only at writing and drawing comics, but in print production. He, by the time we’re discussing here, had moved on from newsstand comics to producing preventive maintenance monthlies for the U.S. Army. One of my uncles had given me some of those, as they had a ton of great Eisner artwork in them, and they were unsurpassed in explaining technical issues in a simple and understandable way. I still have a stack of these P.M. magazines somewhere in the basement, much to Patty’s dismay.

Eisner’s Spirit stories, and there are about 250 of them, I guess, were way above the norm for a comic book. They weren’t aimed at nine-year-olds, for one thing, and Eisner had a tight group of amazingly talented assistants who helped write and draw the stuff. Jules Feiffer had been one of these ghosts for Eisner.

Nowadays, Eisner’s Spirits are easily found in both comic-book form and in hardback, and much of the work is also available in digital form, if you know where to look. In the late 1960s, it was very different and Spirit comic books were few and hard to find.

There had been a couple of 64-page color reprints by Harvey Comics in 1966 and ’67 and those were comic books to be treasured; beautifully printed and colored. My next Spirit encounter was in what were called Spirit Bags in the early 1970s. These were 6″ x 9″ black-and-white reprints of the 8-page Spirit stories and had a typed commentary by Eisner on the last page. Still have all those, too.

Over the years I snagged a ton of other Spirit reprints, both in hard copies and in digital form. I recently learned that Fiction House, a second-tier comic-book publisher, had issued five Spirit comics in the early 1950s. I had never heard of them before, but Fiction House really did a nice job on these reprints of the newspaper Spirits. The coloring is amazing, especially when you consider that they only had 64 colors and tints to work with in those old days.

I now have these in digital form and they are a treat. If you have an interest in Eisner’s work, I encourage you to download them; here’s a site:
http://digitalcomicmuseum.com/index.php?cid=932

These are in the public domain. You’ll need a PC, Mac or iOS reader for the files; they’re easy to find. I particularly enjoy the Comic Zeal iPad app; it makes organizing the hundreds of comics on my iPad a snap.

Thank me later!!! Enjoy!!!

Side Note:

A couple of years later, when we started a student newspaper at Naples High, I made damned sure that the newspaper was called The Spirit, and I worked for days on a masthead for it; my crude homage to Will Eisner. Of course, Eisner, who was so gifted that he came up with a different and stunning masthead for each and every Spirit story, was in a much different league than I was and I cringe to look at my crude Spirit newspaper masthead now!

So it goes!

Hands

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From as far back as I can remember, I’ve been good with a pencil. Posting about Aaron’s much greater talent reminded me of when my mom hired a drawing tutor for me when I was 12 or so. I can’t remember the woman’s name, probably because I resented her so at the time, but she was, I realize now, brilliant.

I had been fooling around for years with my drawing, mainly copying what was in the funny papers. I was good at mimicking other people’s styles, which served me well when I spent some time doing edits and corrections at Marvel Comics a few years later. But this tutor seemed so abrupt and so cold.

She handed me a thick spiral-bound pad of toothy paper and an Eberhard Faber #2 pencil and said, “Before we meet again, draw me 150 hands. Use this pad and number them as you go. Now get busy. I want to feel the bones beneath the skin.” I couldn’t believe it, but I got busy.

The following week, I handed her the pad and she looked over my work. She nodded and said, “By about #80 here, you’ve begun to draw a decent hand. Now do 150 more by next week.”

I was outraged, but I did it. The tutor never talked much but what she said was correct and guided me. After the hands, I got to draw tree bark, and the surface texture of bricks and then I did hundreds of drawings of wadded up paper of different types; some were blank paper wadded up and some had photos or type on them. I drew them all, struggling with the shading and texture. I was glad when I was done drawing the paper wads and moved on to folded cloth. By then, I was able to see the textures with a practiced eye and instead of being frustrated I felt challenged to master the tools; the pencil and the paper and especially my eyes.

The tutor’s rule was that if you want to draw, you have to be able to see. Terse but true.

Perspective was a bear, but she was able to explain it to me and once I got it, I loved it. I still love to draw perspectives; it’s somehow soothing.

I wish I could remember more about that woman. She taught me how to draw. The attached image isn’t my work; it’s something from the Web. But it is correct in what it shows us. Now get a pencil and get busy!!!

Aaron Page Art

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Creativity, in most of its forms, scares the living Hell out of many people; by definition it is original or different, and that makes many people uncomfortable. I can understand that, but my wife and I encouraged our two kids to be creative in what they do. My wife and kids are all good at various kinds of art, which makes me proud. My wife, Patty, is an amazingly skilled cook and a wonderful photographer.

My daughter, Colleen, is also a talented photographer, and she’s a whiz at calligraphy and design; she has a color and texture/pattern sense that I envy. She won national awards during her school days playing music; I recall panicking when her music teacher informed us that she needed a pro-level Buffet Crampon clarinet in the third grade, because they don’t come cheap, but I sold a couple of guitars and got her one.

Today, I want to showcase some of my son’s work. Aaron is 27 years old and is self taught as an artist. He’s also a heck of a bass and guitar player and he’s a good writer. Today, we look at some of the digital art he’s done.

For some reason known only to himself, he insists on using PC-based software to do his work. As a Mac user, I don’t quite understand where he’s coming from on that score, but to each his own.

I know he used to use a Wacom tablet but doesn’t anymore; he now uses a Penpower Picasso and that the software he uses are Photoshop and Illustrator. He’s now tackling zBrush on the PC to learn 3D modeling. Aaron’s not talkative, so that’s about all I know.

I showed, or tried to show, some of Aaron’s work to a fellow who’s an artist rep in NYC, but from his response, I know that he threw a stock answer at me and never looked at the JPEGs I sent him. So it goes. But I hope that Aaron gets an opportunity to use his talent. He wants to get into character or concept art for a career. His website is at http://www.aaronpage-art.com and his email address is aaronpage.art#gmail.com (I’m trying to defeat spambots with the way I wrote that email address; for the real one, substitute a @ for the #).

If you have any way he can help you, please give him a shout.

Here’s some of his work. Enjoy!!!

That Elusive Popeye . . .

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I hate to brag, but I must get this off my chest: While I should have been paying attention to what was going on around me, I finally succeeded in drawing a picture of Popeye that actually looks (somewhat) like him. Crazed with success, I then added Olive Oyl and Wimpy. I was able to draw a creditable Dick Tracy in the first grade, and have a dated colored-pencil rendering from then to prove it, but Popeye has always been beyond my ability. Until now.

Those with a critical eye can probably detect the painstaking wobbliness of my linework and the hesitant feel of the effort, but I still am proud. The fact that I forgot to draw his arms doesn’t detract from the achievement, I hope.

Joe Kubert Has Passed . . .

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I never met Joe Kubert in either of my stints in the comic-book world, but I spoke with him on the phone a few times. Mr. Kubert, a pioneering artist who worked mainly for DC Comics, had started a school for cartooning and graphic arts in Dover, New Jersey. There were two young friends and employees of mine in whom I saw great potential.

I spoke with Mr. Kubert about them both. These conversations were about ten years apart, but Mr. Kubert had the same two questions about the young men I was touting: “Are they good? Will they listen?”

Both young men attended his school to their decided benefit. He and his staff taught them what they needed to know to augment their talent with real-world chops. After a couple of years at the Kubert School, both these young men were not only pro-level cartoonists, but could handle any graphic assignment someone might throw at them. They not only knew the theory but how to get it done without a lot of floundering around. Both young men have done well in their careers, thanks to Joe Kubert. There are many others who can say the same thing.

When I first saw Joe Kubert’s work, in some of the DC war comics, I didn’t like it. It was gritty and a tad ugly to my eye.

Then I saw his work on the revamping of the Hawkman feature in the early 1960s. His work on Hawkman soared; it was lyrical and clearly showed the joy and freedom of flight.

Thus I began to realize that Joe Kubert was simply a better artist than I had encountered before. He was capable of creating more than pretty drawings; he was gifted enough to produce emotional drawings based upon realism. War was ugly, so he drew it ugly; flying was about grace in the air, and he drew it that way.

His composition skills were equal to his draftsmanship; he did tons of covers for DC where his covers were the best thing about the book and where the poor artist who did the interior pages just wasn’t Kubert’s equal.

He was a pioneer, yes, but he also was driven to teach what he had learned to new generations of artists. He gave back and provided leadership to many young people who will carry his legacy into the future.

Thanks, Mr. Kubert.

Auto Repair Excitement, Part Five

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Most of you are probably familiar with the 250-year-old legend of the Flying Dutchman, the ghost ship doomed to forever sail the seas, never making port; never sought after but still unexpectedly seen.

That’s what my Bug is evidently doomed to be at this VW dealers. Just when he thinks he’s seen the last of it, Kevin, the service manager, will look out of his glass-enclosed office and see the specter of a grey New Beetle with a black rag top, and he’ll know that whatever his staff does to fix it, it will be back with the same problem.

Yep; the car shut off on Patty as she drove it home from work tonight. This time, it didn’t seem to lose power totally when it shut off, so that’s, I suppose, some sort of improvement.

So it’s back to the dealer tomorrow to see what they can divine. Stay tuned!

Feeling Lucky, Steampunk?

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About a mile or so north of us, on Nicholson Street, lives an artist, Clarke Bedford. During the day, he’s the Conservator of Paintings and Mixed-Media Objects at the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC.

But he’s really a steampunk genius.

I happen to love steampunk, and I like what this fellow has done to his cars. Patty, on the other hand, finds it so disturbing that she won’t even drive down that street if she can avoid it.

So here we go. Here’s car number one (my favorite):

Here’s the front of car number two, which is a van:

And here’s car number three, which began life as a Volvo:

I’ve never seen these cars moving down the road, but I’d love to!

All Hung Up!

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My son, Aaron, and I are both members of the Hyattsville Community Arts Alliance, and are proud to announce that six of our works are now on display (and sale!) at local restaurants; four at Franklin’s and two at the Calvert House.

Aaron does his digital paintings from scratch on the PC and I recreate and revise ancient comic book covers on the Mac. These images are then printed on canvas and placed on wooden stretchers by my daughter, Colleen.

So it’s a family project and we are having a lot of fun doing it!

The giant copper vats shown in the photo collage are where they brew their own beers and ales at Franklin’s. If you remember the actress Karen Allen from Raiders of the Lost Ark, she’s sometimes seen at the Calvert House, which has been her favorite restaurant from childhood.

The company I started with my brother, Jeff, is called Page Bros Prints and you can see our website at www.PageBrosPrints.com. We have some historic prints for sale at the Surratt House Museum in Clinton, Maryland. That was where John Wilkes Booth stopped for some previously stashed stuff after he shot Abraham Lincoln.

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