People ask me how, since I’m retired and don’t make comics anymore, do I keep my brain from rotting due to disuse. Well, I have a new hobby. As you may have read here or here, Mego action figures were among my very favorite toys when I was a kid. I just wasn’t allowed to play with them at home. I had written an entire Solution Squad story about eight-inch action figures, and one of my buddies had customized a Radical figure for me, which appears on the cover.
I tried my very best to emulate the blister card from the World’s Greatest Superheroes line that Mego produced in the 1970s, right down to the circles featuring other characters with their names encircling their head shots. It wasn’t easy! Radical’s head was made from a repainted Shaggy (from Scooby Doo) with some scupted hair and beard add-ons. His costume was printed! So cool.
My very favorite Mego was the first one I received for Christmas in 1972, Superman, which you can see young Radical playing with here, in a flashback.
As fun as it was, the Mego Superman’s cape was far too easily frayed. I don’t know whatever happened to my old Mego figure. It probably got tossed during one of our many moves. But I do know that he was well loved and well used, and his cape showed it. A few years ago, I acquired one that was in near-mint condition, and I bought a cool diorama from a buddy who sculpts them out of foam to display him permanently.
The next one I got as a kid, in 1974, was a Captain Kirk figure from Star Trek. When my brother got Spock, we had many adventures together. Both of those figures stayed with my brother when I moved away. But the one thing I always wanted was the USS Enterprise playset. I yearned for it, but it was not meant to be. Well, last summer, I found both. I bought a set of the first series of Star Trek figures released in 1974. Uhura was added in 1975, but was still considered in the first series. They can cost quite a bit in good condition, and these were pristine. They had all their weapons, delta insignias, their hair paint was unmarred, they were just perfect. With one exception; Captain Kirk’s leg was broken at the knee.
Now, I am not a handy person. My grandpa and dad did their best to make sure I was at least competent with tools, and when I was younger, I used to make things in my grandpa’s garage. But I never built models, or worked with glue very much. I always preferred drawing. But, I thought, for the price I’m getting this set ($120), I can at least attempt to repair a Mego leg. I would have never considered it when I was a kid, but then again, we didn’t have YouTube back then. Sure enough, I found a video explaining how to replace a knee pin, which is what was missing from Kirk’s leg.
I replaced the pin from a bag of cadaver Megos I had gotten alongside the Superman a few years before, and ironically, a Superman corpse gave up his knee pin so that Kirk could stand again!
In the end, it really wasn’t complicated at all. But I felt accomplishment, nonetheless. Paying only $20 each for mint (-1) Star Trek figures was really cool. And then when the Enterprise playset popped up for less than $100, I knew I had to have it, finally, after all these years! My shelf looked like a Christmas catalog item from 1974!
In the box for the Enterprise was also an extra Captain’s chair and black stool. I didn’t think too much about them, and just tossed them in a box with my cadavers. We’ll get back to them, though.
I thought that would be the end of the hobby of collecting Megos. But then I found out that Mego was back in business after decades of companies trying to do what they did. I had seen some of the newer figures with their fancy correctly-painted weapons and stuff, I dismissed it. Bah! New things! But then I discovered that they had finally produced Sulu and Chekov figures with their original-looking blue phasers and communicators!
The bridge crew would be complete! And what’s this? The impossible-to-find Romulan figure was being re-released with its red weapons set! I couldn’t have a Klingon on the bridge without a Romulan!
By then, I was in my new office, and had a much better display space for my beloved Enterprise set.
And, I thought, if they re-released the Romulan from the Aliens set from series two, maybe they did the Gorn, too! The Gorn figure, if you are not aware, was perhaps the worst and cheapest figure that Mego produced. There was nothing original about it. It utilized a repainted head from Marvel’s Lizard figure, the body from a Planet of the Apes Soldier, and a Klingon uniform. Parts is parts, right?
But the new Mego did not spare the detail! They made a real Gorn that looked like the one in the show!
Naturally, I had to have one. But where was I going to put it? I ran into my diorama-building friend Mike Sutter at a toy show, and put to him an idea. Could he make Vasquez Rocks for me? You know Vasquez Rocks. It’s a park in California where everything has been filmed, including the episode where Kirk battles the Gorn, Arena.
Well, Mike knocked it out of the park. I even got the new version of Kirk for the diorama.
When I discovered that the new shelves in my office were too narrow for the full diorama, I asked Mike if he could trim them down to nine inches wide. He agreed, and asked what I wanted done with the rest. I asked if he could use them to make another diorama, the Guardian of Forever from the episode, City on the Edge of Forever. And again, he crushed it.
But I didn’t want to move my wonderful Kirk and Spock from the bridge set, so off to EBay I went to buy the cheapest Kirk and Spock I could find. I got the pair for $40, but they didn’t come with weapons. I thought, well, that was hardly relevant to this display, so I didn’t worry about it. But it made me think, how hard would it be to just get a set of weapons? Apparently, much harder than I thought! A vintage weapons belt with the blue phaser, communicator, and tricorder can set you back $50! But I wasn’t done with this piece, yet. I needed another Dr. McCoy figure, and I didn’t want to pay a lot for it. I had just found another Kirk and Spock online for even less than I paid for the first pair, just $25, and I had replaced the new Kirk with the Gorn with the classic Kirk. The Spock figure had problems, though, He had a Type-1 body, and his legs were splaying out like crazy. You guessed it, I found a YouTube video. I ordered some 2 mm elastic cord and bought a crochet hook at Walmart. After two attempts, I had completely restrung the figure, making it as good as new. However, I didn’t need a Spock figure at the moment, so he sacrificed his uniform to go with a Type-2 McCoy body I had in my cadaver box. One of the things Mego saw in the Star Trek line was cheap production. The only difference between a McCoy figure and a Spock figure was the head! The McCoy figure had been a gift from my friend Tracy Edmunds, whose father-in-law had bought it in the 1970s to use as a driver in his model race cars. His head was completely messed up from having helmets glued to it, but his body was in perfect shape. I found a McCoy head on EBay for ten bucks and boom! Instant Dr, McCoy figure. Still no weapons, but the good doctor had lost his phaser in 1930s New York in that episode anyway. And now I have a Type-1 Spock figure in my spare Mego box. When another blue uniform comes along, he’ll be dressed again and I’ll have another nearly complete figure.
While that really wasn’t true customization, just a parts swap, I kind of wanted to try my hand at it. My first attempt was to make my Star Trek Adventures captain, by modifying a new Kirk uniform with fabric paint. It was a disaster. I thought I had better stick to what I could handle and not modify the clothes too much. If I try it again, I’m going to try gluing fabric over the existing fabric. I just need a couple of black panels, not a complete dye job.
I thought I would start my journey more successfuly by making a redshirt. If you don’t know that term, it refers to one of Star Trek’s many casualties, who often wore red shirts for security, and often didn’t even have names. But there was one who not only had a name, but he appeared in 57 episodes, more than even Sulu or Chekov! His name was Leslie…most of the time.
Lt. Leslie, played by Eddie Paskey
One of Mego’s new lines was Married With Children, and I had read that they were trying to go cheap on sculpts again. They were pulling old sculpts from everywhere, and they chose one that someone had made of Eddie Paskey, who played Lieutenant Leslie on Star Trek, to make Al Bundy’s head. This was supported when I got a look of the side view of Al’s profile.
I’m pretty sure Al Bundy never had those Starfleet sideburns! So, I thought, let me try making a custom Mr. Leslie figure. I took that now-shirtless Kirk figure, and popped off his head, and replaced it with the head of Al Bundy. I found a Scotty uniform shirt online for a fairly low price, and ordered it. Scotty was the only figure Mego produced in the old days who wore red. Leslie most often wore red for engineering or security. But I had also read that you could simply repaint Mego figures with the same paint you use for D&D figures, and I had some. So, I got to work repainting the head with a color more suitable for Leslie while I waited for the Scotty uniform to be shipped. When it arrived, I used an X-Acto knife to cut away one of the rank braids (Scotty was a lieutenant commander while Leslie was just a lieutenant), and put it all together. I borrowed one of my classic figure’s weapons belts to complete the look.
My first successful custom Mego: Lt. Leslie
Since I’m not worried about vintage weapons for this figure (the only part of him that’s vintage is his shirt), I looked for reproduction Star Trek weapons. And wouldn’t you know it, Dr. Mego has some! Instead of $50, I can get a full belt for eight bucks. And I have plenty of other figures that don’t need vintage weapons, but would display better with weapons than without. That site has replacement parts for everything we need to restore our 50-year-old figures and make them look new again! Okay, now I had a taste for customizing as well as repair.
There’s been a movement not just to sculpt Mego heads but to print Mego heads made of resin. And one that came up in my wanderings was one that I really want to make: Luke Skywalker.
It’s well known that Mego passed on the Star Wars license in 1977 and that decision factored into the company’s eventual demise. Kenner took up the toy license and instead of making expensive eight-inch figures, they focused simply on molded and painted 3.75″ figures that were far cheaper to manufacture and much more flexible in the types of figures that could be offered. It was a trend that even Mego adopted afterward, when they tried to keep up with their Star Trek license for Star Trek The Motion Picture. But I often wonder what it would have been like if Mego had made the Star Wars figures. So, I’m going to try to make one. I painted Luke’s head (so out of practice) and attached it to an extra Type-2 body I had. I noticed that the foot was broken, and yep, right to YouTube, learned how to pop out the ankle pin and replace it with a donor part.
Appropriate that he’s in front of a Star Wars game, right?
I’ve ordered a black bodysuit, and a pair of replacement boots for CHiPs figures to make a start on Jedi Luke. Yes, CHiPs boots are correct.
While I was in reconstruction mode, I dug back into my box of parts, where I found a Planet of the Apes figure. I honestly did not have any interest in these figures when they came out in 1974, so I didn’t even know the character’s name.
A trip to the Mego Museum page, and it was revealed! His name was General Ursus…or General Urko. It depended on when you bought him! That page is really a nice resource, because you can find out what parts a particular figure came with to be complete. This figure did not have his rifle or his scabbard and short sword, and like Star Trek weapons, they can be really hard to come by. But, because of his condition (really nice), I decided to complete him. It took a couple of weeks to find the parts, but I did. So, I spent $55 to complete a $150 figure. Pretty cool.
The Completed General Ursus/Urko
Here is where the new hobby is satisfying. I took parts from three incomplete figures and made a whole one. There’s just something right about that. It feels good. So I took a good look at my parts box and started making notes. Remember that extra captain’s chair from the Enterprise box? I sure don’t need it, but someone evidently does!
Just like there’s a market for Mego weapons, there is a market for any spare parts, even heads! I have an extra General Ursus head, and I don’t need that either.
So, to answer the question from the first paragraph, how am I keeping my brain from rotting? I’m doing math. I’m looking for parts lots that complement what I already have, and selling what I don’t need. Here’s the pièce de résistance:
I have a Klingon figure. Its head was in good shape, as was the uniform, and one of his two boots. His knee, though, had been replaced not with a plastic pin, but with a bolt and nut! I can’t even fix it because more damage was done to the leg when someone did their best knee replacement without YouTube.
Metal knee replacement before its time
So, I took a spare Type-2 body from a Robin figure with a messed up head, and did a transplant. Now I just needed a weapons belt and a boot replacement. Vintage boots are $20 a pair. Or, if you want a single boot, the price is…$20. The whole figure is only worth about $40. I was not about to pay $20 for boots. So, instead, I found a whole Klingon. Wait, what? Well, yes, the Klingon figure is whole, but…his head is messed up and the uniform pants have a few minute problems. That reduces the value. So, I paid $35 for this whole (messed up) figure, and I will take the boot and the weapons belt, to make a whole, good, sellable-condition vintage Klingon figure, and I could sell the remaining parts. Sounds crazy, but I could get $20 for the good boot, and $15 for the Type-2 body, and–are you following this? I could get $35–what I paid for the whole figure–for the leftover parts of this figure that are undamaged. I’m not going to, though, because I’m going to keep gathering an inventory of spare parts to complete more figures later on. I will probably ditch the defective pants, though. I think I might experiment more and repaint the head, too, since its paint defects make it not as valuable.
So, no, my brain isn’t going to rot. I’m on a constant watch now to find parts that go with my parts. It just becomes important now to keep track of what I have on-hand.
Everyone, take a bow! Your time will come. You will be complete again!
Learning to read in the 1960s with Batman comics and the Batman TV show, it’s small wonder that I identified with Robin, the Boy Wonder. Always at Batman’s side, Robin gave kids, boys especially, someone to project themselves onto. Wouldn’t it be cool to be Batman’s sidekick? To ride along in the Batmobile? Robin was portrayed as about 16 on the Batman TV show, but in the comics by 1969, he was going off to college, so mark him down as 18 years old. He got aged up just a bit so that Batman would have darker solo adventures. He was still around 18-19 years old in comics in 1980, when the New Teen Titans got started. Time passed oddly in the DC universe. Yet, still, he led a whole superhero team at a pretty young age and had a lot more responisbility than most kids his age. When Marv Wolfman and George Pérez matured him for their book, it was time for a new Robin to be at Batman’s side. Dick Grayson abandoned his Robin identity in New Teen Titans #39, which I bought on my very first visit to a comic book store, mentioned here.
This was an exciting time to be reading The New Teen Titans. Longtime readers had been introduced to their newest member, Terra, and many fans thought she was just great. But when it was revealed that she was actually a spy working for Deathstroke, the Terminator, well, the wheels were about to come off the wagon. Suddenly, Dick Grayson discovered that his entire team had been ambused and were missing, and he was fresh out of yellow capes. By summer, the conclusion of “The Judas Contract” storyline was about to conclude, and Dick Grayson needed a new costumed identity.
So, after 44 years of being Robin, Dick Grayson became Nightwing. Now, before we get too far, here, I just want to point out that many barbs have been thrown toward this costume as somehow being inspired by disco because it has a raised collar. Uh, no, you mooks out there. It was inspired by the circus. You know, like Deadman? The other superhero in a circus costume?
Dick Grayson, having been a circus performer, obviously went back to his history to pull out that costume design. It was 1984, for crying out loud. Disco was gone.
Anyway, the comic where this transformation took place, Tales of the Teen Titans #44, was published in July 1984. I had just finished my freshman year of college, the second semester of which being much more successful and enjoyable for me. I had a steady girlfriend whom I had started dating in February, and I was down in Kalamazoo visiting her, when this comic book came out. But I also had a rare opportunity. My brother and sister were also in southwestern Michigan, with my mother and stepfather. They were staying couple of towns over at my stepfather’s parents’ house. I volunteered to come over and get them, and take them to the movies. My mother agreed. So, my girlfriend and I drove over to pick them up. Let’s see, I was 19 at the time (the same age as Nightwing), so my brother would have been 13 and my sister, 12. I took them to see what every kid that age should have seen that weekend: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Despite the more, uh, terrifying aspects of the Raiders prequel, they had fun and I had the unique feeling of being a true older brother, taking my younger siblings to the movies in the summertime, something I hadn’t really gotten to do, living apart from them as I did.
I enjoyed the Nightwing character, especially the part where Grayson was honoring Superman’s Kryptonian heritage as well. For many, many years of World’s Finest, the Batman-Superman teamup comic, Robin worked closely with both men, and I thought it was a nice touch to make a callback to that time. Nightwing was originally a costumed identity that Superman took on in the bottled city of Kandor, naming himself after a Kryptonian bird. Jimmy Olsen, of course, was his Robin, taking on the name Flamebird.
From Superman #158
Unbelievably, Dick Grayson has been Nightwing now for 39 years, almost as long as he was Robin. There have been some, let’s say, unfortunate choices along the way. The mullet, the ponytail, both a few years after they had been in style, for example. Having him be shot in the head and becoming an amnesiac, leaving a scar that looks like his symbol? That was rough. But more recently, the character has been given a new life, using his inhertiance to make life in his city better than perhaps Batman ever could. It’s good stuff.
It’s Comic-Con week again, and I’m preparing myself to see people hating on Comic-Con because “it’s not about comics anymore,” and I’m preparing to see people boast about not being there, because of some hipster sense that they’re too cool or not cool enough to go. You can take your pick there. You can see people who are hyped for Hall H and people who are offended that people attend things in Hall H. And I’m already seeing people who are enthusiastically promoting their own appearances and panels that they’re doing.
Here’s my take:
Comic-Con is exactly what you make of it. I’ve been to it three times, the last two times as a professional. And each time, I’ve found exactly what I was looking for. You want comics? There are a ton of creators there that don’t generally appear in the midwest. There are booths and booths and booths of new comics, old comics, original art, supplies, and anything else you could ever need for the hobby of collecting comics. There are multiple panels going on simultaneously, with information being given out by experts on everything in the field. I was privileged to participate in three of them in my pro days, which if you haven’t put it together yet, are over.
My favorite Comic-Con experiences came as surprises, like the first time I went. Back in 2004, my wife and I visited her sister and her husband when they lived in San Francisco. My wife had asked me if there was anything else I wanted to do in California during the time we were scheduled to be there. I joked, “Well, Comic-Con is going on that week…” She laughed it off and nothing more was said about it. It was just a pipe dream. As it turned out, my brother-in-law was actually going to be away from home for part of the week for that very reason. I was jealous. He was working for Industrial Light and Magic at the time, and was actually working on Star Wars Episode III. He arranged a visit to Skywalker Ranch for us, and even snuck me into ILM itself, which was against the rules. It wasn’t in the Presidio back then, but in a strip mall across from a Circuit City in a completely unmarked building. Super cool. When it came time to say goodbye to him so he could head to the airport, my wife told me to pack an overnight bag. I didn’t understand. She said, “You’re going with him.” Without my knowledge, they had planned the whole thing from the beginning!
We caught our plane at 6 AM, landed in Los Angeles at 7:30 AM, and Jeremy rented a convertible to drive the rest of the way down to San Diego. We got there, found a hotel (those were the days) and hopped a bicycle cab to the convention center. Jeremy was an industry pro, and registration was not quite as stringent as it is now, and he got us passes for two days based on his credentials. I was in heaven. The first thing I did was, of course, say hello to all the people I knew in Artist Alley. Jeremy was impressed that I seemed to know everyone, and that they knew me. It wasn’t quite that extensive, but it was a lot. Then he introduced me to someone he worked with at Blur Studios, Chuck Wojtkiewicz. I sputtered, “You drew Sultry Teenage Super-Foxes!” I thought poor Chuck was going to crawl under his table. He had also drawn Justice League of America for a bit, but I mean, who’s going to remember that? I got to meet Chris Claremont, writer of my favorite X-Men comics, and I bought a hardcover of that book for him to sign. But the key person I was thrilled to meet was Brent Eric Anderson.
Anderson, who drew my favorite comic book series of all time, Astro City, was all by himself with no line. I gushed like a fanboy and told him that I had several of his original pages from Astro City. I asked him for a sketch of The Confessor and Altar Boy, and now that sketch sits right in front of me in a place of honor on my art wall in my office.
Jeremy met with other Blur Studios alumni while he was there, including the owner, Tim Miller, who took his entire group, including me, to lunch. Now, if the name Tim Miller sounds familiar, it should. He directed Deadpool. So yes, thanks to Jeremy, I get to say that I was taken to lunch by the director of Deadpool. And if Chuck Wojtkiewicz’s name didn’t sound familiar before, it’s only because he was an unsung hero working on Deadpool. Chuck storyboarded the entire “12 Bullets” sequence of that movie.
What a trip!
I didn’t get to go to Comic-Con again for several years. The experience had been a little overwhelming, to say the least. The convention had dwarfed all the others I had attended. But it only got bigger as time went on. The next time I went was in 2016, when I was working on Solution Squad. I applied to present a panel there, and was accepted. I participated in another panel, as well. And as an all-ages author participating in panels, I was invited to the Scholastic party being held on the rooftop of a nearby hotel. It also served as a release party for Raina Telgemeier’s Ghosts graphic novel. If you don’t know Raina’s name, she is the queen of American graphic novels. She is also one of the most down-to-earth people you’ll ever meet. This whole experience was another surprise! I got to pitch Solution Squad to an editor there, but it wasn’t something they were publishing at the time. I was disappointed, but not too surprised about that.
I received one of the gift bags that they had set aside at the party, and it contained an uncorrected proof copy of the book. My daughter, who was 10 years old at the time, was a near-celebrity for having a copy before any of her friends did. I had fun just hanging out with my dear friend Tracy Edmunds, with whom I worked on so many projects. I had lunch with Tracy and her daughter Shelby, who I was meeting for the first time. Shelby went on to color some stories for me. She’s very talented!
Another pleasant surprise occurred when I got to meet my favorite Superman writer, Elliot S! Maggin, whom I didn’t even know was going to be at the convention. He was there to receive the Bill Finger Award, which is given to writers who have not previously been recognized enough for their work. Elliot was not only my favorite Superman comic book writer, but had also authored two Superman prose novels that meant a lot to me (and still do, actually) when I was young. I was thrilled at the opportunity to meet him.
Me with Elliot S! Maggin, Comic-Con 2016
I got teased about wearing a Batman shirt when I took a photo with him. If I’d known he was going to be there, I would have worn a Superman shirt!
At this same convention, I got to meet Steven E. Gordon, who had long been a Facebook friend, but also created the cover for my first comic book! Steve was the character designer for X-Men Evolution, one of my favorite cartoons.
The main cast of X-Men Evolution
When I initially started pitching Solution Squad, I described it as “X-men Evolution meets Numbers.” So it seemed natural to ask him to do the cover of my first comic book.
The cover of Solution Squad #1, drawn by Steven E. Gordon and colored by Eric Gordon
It was also a nice time seeing friends from the old Clobberin’ Times amateur press alliance, a publication I belonged to 30 years ago.
Me with my buddy Tim Watts, before he went all grey!
The last time I went to Comic-Con was in 2019, a year ahead of the pandemic. Out of the three panels I submitted, the one I was least prepared to give was accepted. I went with my two buddies, Scott Wiles and Jon Loftus. I did have a good time, but there was definitely a damper on my enjoyment. At that point in my comics career, I was beat. I was tired of doing conventions. I was tired of travel, and I was tired of pretty much everything to do with it, especially the crowds.
The line to get into the main convention floor, 2019
That said, I made the most of the convention. It’s often said, “Comic-Con isn’t about comics anymore.” Well, it is if you make it about comics. I spent the majority of my time among the comics dealers in the vendor room, and found a ton of comics I wanted. There were comics, old toys, original art, you name it. It’s all there if you look for it. I got to see my friends Chuck, Steven, and Elliot again. I got to pick up merch from my friend Katie Cook, supporting her web comic Nothing Special, of which my daughter is a huge fan.
Katie Cook is always easy to find at a convention. Look for the longest line!
I also made a point to pick up con-exclusive merchandise that I could re-sell later at a premium to help pay for my trip.
Never in my life did I imagine there would be an action figure set like this!Thanks to Tim Watts and Aaron Storck for being at my panel!
Again, seeing friends from the Clobberin’ Times was great. Tim Watts and Aaron Storck were on hand for my panel. It’s always great catching up.
When I returned home, I was exhausted. Of course, that was the last convention before the pandemic happened, so I’m sure it hasn’t been the same. I know I have no desire to go again. The pandemic changed me permanently. I don’t like traveling by air anymore, and I don’t like large crowds at all. But I sure enjoyed the times I went and I don’t regret any of those trips!
After high school graduation, I went to work in the same factory where my dad worked: Four Winns Boats. I started at $4.25 per hour, which was significantly better than the minimum wage at the time, $3.35. I was a vinyl puller, also known as an upholsterer. I was one of the people who took the wooden frames that made boat seats, stapled foam on the boards, and stretched the sewn vinyl seat covers over the frames, stapling them down with an air-powered staple gun. It was repetitive work, as there were only two kinds of seat frames I was responsible for, the ones that formed loungers. There was a seat and a back. Each set was two seats and two backs. Someone down the line would assemble them together so that the back-to-back boat seats would expand out so that you could lie down on them. In very short order, I was the fastest puller they had. It was virtually mindless work, and I enjoyed it after four years of high school.
The only problem with the job is that it came with a price. I had to quit my high school baseball team, while we were still playing in the state tournaments. My dad had arranged this job, and if I continued on in the tournament for two more weeks, the job wouldn’t be there anymore. Regrettably, I folded up my uniform and turned it in. I felt like I was letting my friends, teammates, and coach down, but on the other hand, I felt like it was time to grow up. I would need this money for college, especially because my dad lived by the philosophy that since I was 18, I had to pay my share of the rent, even though I didn’t even have my own room in his one-bedroom apartment. I slept on a futon in the living room. I also needed to buy a car, and soon.
Ironically, my high school graduation gift from my parents was a car, a 1974 Chevy Nova that my dad had bought for himself. He got my mother to donate $350, half its perceived value of $700, and he gave me the car; allegedly. My mother was furious. Basically, she paid him $350 for his car and he “gave” it to me. Until he didn’t. Right about that time, my aunt and uncle’s car broke down completely and they needed a replacement immediately. My dad gave them my car. How he gave them MY car, I’ll never know, but like Vin Diesel says in those stupid Fast & Furious movies, it’s about family. I guess. So, there I was, without the car that had been given to me as a gift. It took a few weeks, but along with the graduation gift money I had received from some of my more scrupulous relatives, I scraped up enough to buy myself another car, this time a 1974 Ford Pinto station wagon. Since I paid cash for it, this one had a title in my name and no one was giving it to anyone! I loved that car. It was orange and had mag wheels for some reason. I removed the AM radio it came with and installed an AM/FM/cassette boat stereo and speakers from Four Winns in it with my own hands. Electronics class at the Wexford-Missaukee Area Vocational School really paid off! I even bypassed the normal fuse box so that the stereo could play without the key in the ignition. Now I had freedom that no one would ever take away from me. Because my dad worked second shift and was a supervisor, I was not allowed to work on the same shift, so I worked days. That and having a car freed up my evenings to do whatever I wanted.
One of the first things I did was go to a movie by myself. Yes, I could have gotten a date, but this was special. Return of the Jedi was out in theaters, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself by taking a girl to see it. I had already suffered enough jibes from my former classmates for liking this genre. It wasn’t like it is now. So, one evening, I plopped down in a seat by myself in the Cadillac theater with a big bucket of popcorn and a Coke, and settled in. Toward the end of the movie, an unfamilar emotion washed over me. You see, Star Wars had come out when I was 12 years old, the summer before I started junior high. Luke Skywalker was a simple farmboy. When its first sequel, The Empire Strikes Back was released, three years later, I was a high school sophomore. I literally drove my family to see the movie with my learner’s permit in hand. Luke was in his adolescence very much the same as I was at the time. And now, at the end, Luke’s hero’s journey came to fruition, as he proclaimed himself an adult. “I am a Jedi, like my father before me.” I didn’t need to be beaten over the head to recognize the parallels. I had come of age. Young, yes, but I was paying my own way. I had a job and a car that I had bought with my own money, and would soon be on my way to college and the rest of my life. The possibilities were endless.
June was filled with graduation parties, so there was always somewhere to go in the evenings. I loved grad parties. All the turkey, ham, and roast beef you could eat, always on the same rolls. I think everyone used the same service to get their food. There was almost invariably a keg, too, but I wanted nothing to do with beer. Pop was my drink of choice, and Mountain Dew was my favorite. Coke would do as well, though. Since I was now paying for my own food, I appreciated free dinners almost every night! Quite often, when I stayed until the end of a party, I would do my good deed and help clean up, and parents would often beg me to take home leftovers. I would, and those became my lunches at work, wrapped up and packed in my Igloo cooler that I had bought the previous summer for the Christmas tree trimming patch. I took that cooler everywhere, even to the drive-in for movies.
When my brother Jeff, who was 12 at the time, came for visitation that summer, I took him to the drive-in so that we could see some cinematic masterpiece like Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone. We made a bag full of popcorn using the air popper my dad and I had gotten when I was in eighth grade, and put a six-pack of pop in the cooler with ice. I had a dub of Michael Jackson’s Thriller on cassette, and my brother thought it was the greatest album ever made. We played it again and again. It felt good to be a big brother, because I knew what he was going through at my mom’s house.
I took girls to the Cadillac drive-in, too. You might as well just queue up Bob Seger’s Night Moves, so I don’t have to go into detail. I know I remember going to see Flashdance at the theater with one of my high school crushes, but I didn’t see much of the movie.
Later on in June, I traveled down to Kalamazoo for Western Michigan University’s orientation. I had to take a couple of days off work to do it, and I didn’t appreciate losing the money, but it was highly recommended for incoming freshmen. I had never driven a long-distance trip like that before, so it was exciting. What was not exciting was driving the Pinto, which didn’t have air conditioning. When I got there, I saw parents dropping off their kids everywhere, and I was just all by myself. It felt strange but exhiliarating at the same time. We got marched all over campus, touring the facilities, taking placement tests, even applying for work-study for fall. We were also introduced to some of the slightly off-campus offerings, like Bilbo’s Pizza. Named, of course, for the main character in The Hobbit (which I had never heard of), it was a Middle-Earth-themed pizza place, complete with round oaken tables and dark lighting. The only pizza restaurants I had ever sat down in were Pizza Hut and Little Ceasar’s, which yes, had sit-down locations back then.
This was well before Hot ‘n Ready, and even before Pizza! Pizza! was a thing. It was still a cheap-looking place, nothing at all like Bilbo’s. So my small-town self was impressed by the ambience that a real pizza place provided. And the pan-style pizza was pretty good, too!
That visit made me excited. I could hardly wait to start a new life on campus. I had kind of walked away from several of my high school friends at the time. When my two best friends (I thought) planned their graduation parties together and left me out, I got the message that I was not wanted. So, I started making new friends. One of my newer friends was Brian Goodenow, a Pine River student I knew from my class at the Wexford-Missaukee Area Vocational Center. We had been in the same electronics class. Brian was a DJ at WATT, AM 1240, which was only a short drive from my apartment. I spent a lot of time hanging out with him while he was on the air. And I made another new friend at work, Ron Radawiec, who had also gone to Pine River. Ron’s dad had just opened up the very first video rental store in Northern Michigan, so Ron and I would often rent movies to watch at his house when we had nothing else to do. I found the video cassette recorder to be a magical tool, and I envied theirs. Of course, you couldn’t afford to own movies. No, the average cost of a VHS movie was $80-90 back then. That’s why you rented them! Three-dollar rentals were expensive, but nowhere near the cost of a newly released movie. And because of my Pine River connections (it was the high school where all of my Tustin Elementary friends went), I even got a visit one night from Janet Johnson and Robin Byers, my sixth grade crushes, with whom I had also reconnected at the vocational school. They were there for nursing. It seemed like my world was getting bigger than the isolated Mesick High School experience.
Moreover, it felt like my life had come full circle, going back to when I first went to live with my dad. Like Luke Skywalker, I had completed the first leg of my hero’s journey.
The first comic book convention I attended was the Return of King Kon back in 1984. It was held on the campus of Eastern Michigan University in Ypsilanti. My roommate, my girlfriend, and I drove to the show, where we spent the day looking at comic books, and meeting the people who made them. That’s where I first saw a copy of Fleischer Studio’s Superman cartoons, which I had read about when I was a kid. I entered a trivia contest and won second place. As an entry gift, I received a copy of Badger #9, and liked it enough that I added it to my monthly list of comics and sought out the previous issues.
I was hooked.
I didn’t have the financial stability to attend conventions regularly until around 1990, after I had graduated from college and was working full-time as a teacher. I taught summer school just to have enough money to do what my friends were doing, which was getting professional artists to draw my Champions characters. Some of my friends had some pretty impressive sketches already. My friend Scott Burnham had taken one of my drawings to a convention in 1988 and had Mike Gustovich ink over my pencils, which was kind of a thrill. I was terrible at inking, and he made my drawing look a hundred times better.
Quantum, pencils by me and inks by Mike Gustovich
Another friend took Scott’s idea and ran with it, getting Neil Vokes to ink my drawing of his character, Firefrost, in 1989:
Firefrost, pencils by me, inks by Neil Vokes
When I attended Chicago Comicon in the summer of 1990, I sought out artists to draw my newest character, Domino. Domino started out as a detective character who wore ordinary street clothes. He was very much inspired by The Question and The Spirit. But he also carried guns, not to kill people, but to defend himself against the higher-powered characters in the word he lived in. I immediate got Bill Reinhold, the artist from The Badger, to ink one of my drawings.
I was also lucky enough to find Steve Mitchell, who was inking a Batman title at the time, but more importantly, had once inked over Frank Miller in 1980!
Domino, pencils by me, inks by Steve Mitchell
I was really starting to see the difference in how an inker can affect the overall quality of the image. But that was really driven home by being inked by Denys Cowan.
Domino, pencils by me, inks by Denys Cowan
I honestly never cared for this piece after that. My pencils were of uniform quality, but the inking was hit or miss, it seemed. I loved Denys’s work on The Question, but this, to me, was not much more than scribble.
But the find of the show had to have been Brian Stelfreeze. Brian was drawing Cycops, a black and white indy book from Comics Interview, and I loved how different his style was compared to most artists. I caught him early in the show, but his dance card filled quickly. He stayed even after the show ended to finish this one up. He turned the paper upside down, and said, “I’m gonna have fun with this.” And he drew it just how you see it here:
Domino, by Brian Stelfreeze
This remains one of my all-time favorite pieces, and it was drawn upside-down! I paid 30 whole dollars for this one. Over the years, I attended this convention and Motor City Comic Con in Detroit several times, and loved the fan experience. I never thought I would qualify to be on the other side of the table. But a boy can dream…
In the glory days of high school, when I had left comics behind, there were still ways for me to enjoy my favorite superheroes. For some reason, reading comic books was scorned, but reading novels about comic book superheroes was A-OK. Following his successful Superman novel, The Last Son of Krypton, Superman scribe Elliot S. Maggin cooked up a doozy.
Published in 1981 as a movie tie-in to Superman II, even though they had nothing in common except the main character, Miracle Monday tells the story of the demon, C.W. Saturn, sent on a mission to destroy Superman’s morals. To do so, he inhabits the body of time-traveling journalist Kristin Wells, who has joined Superman’s supporting cast to research Miracle Monday, because in the future, no one knows why it’s celebrated. By creating a situation where Superman will be forced to kill his host, Saturn taunts Superman, even going so far as to reveal the Man of Steel’s identity to the world.
The great thing about this novel is that Maggin gets the heart of Superman. He does good. He fights to preserve life. And for goodness sake, he doesn’t kill. Ever. There’s a scene in the first chapter where Pa Kent is having a nightmare about his son simply killing the criminals he stops. The boy takes over a delicate eye surgery and humiliates the surgeon. He even offers to take over the country’s military because he’s going to be running things anyway. In the dream, Pa, as a last resort, goes out to a field to find some buried Kryptonite and agonizes over what he might have to do, but Superboy is there, and takes the shovel away, swings it at Pa, and Pa wakes up. Pa goes to his boy’s room, where Clark is examining a dead grasshopper. Pa gets a might nervous about it, until Clark explains that he wasn’t the one who killed it. He just wanted to find out why it died where there were no obvious signs. Pa is relieved that his son values life.
And all of that is just part of Chapter 1.
What Elliot Maggin really digs into in this novel is how Superman perceives the world. With all of his fantastic senses, he sees colors that no one else can see. He doesn’t bother to name them because there’s no one with whom he can talk about them. And he sees the energy given off by living things. There is a scene where he is distracted by a conversation with Lana Lang on the school bus, when it accidentally hits an old dog from a neighboring farm. Clark can literally see it die as its energy dissipates and goes cold. It upsets him so much that he gets physically ill. It’s all part of growing up to be Superman:
Art by me again!
Without going into excruciating detail, Elliot Maggin’s Superman novels, both of them, were instrumental in the formation of my morals. This is no Man of Steel Superman, which I found to be as cold and lifeless as the dead dog. This is my Superman, more along the lines of Christopher Reeve. And honestly I don’t care if it’s corny. It was the foundation of a successful and beloved character for almost 50 years before John Byrne’s reboot in 1986 turned Superman into a Marvel character. There’s nothing wrong with Marvel characters. It’s just that Marvel was already publishing plenty of them. This Superman was fundamentally good.
Another wonderful aspect of this Superman, particularly in Maggin’s books, is his relationship with Lex Luthor. In the 1986 revamp, Luthor was turned into a middle-aged scientist/businessman. Back when this novel was published, Luthor and Superboy grew up together in Smallville. They were even in the same class. They weren’t rivals. Luthor literally had no peer. But his ambitions always got the better of him and he learned harsh lessons by having to go to reform school. Luthor is not just a two-dimensional figure in Maggin’s hands. He’s devious, yes. A criminal, sure. But he maintains several separate identities to perpetuate his criminal activities, even when he’s incarcerated. It’s not LexCorp as it was presented in the 80s, but LexCorp’s seeds are certainly found here. And Luthor even attended classes at Metropolis University in one of his many guises, and Superman, as Clark Kent, tries one last time to reform him, to bring him to the light. He’s even ready to reveal his secret to Luthor, but the criminal refuses the meeting. After all that, this is a Superman who never gives up on him. Even at the end of the novel, Superman asks the time-traveling Kristin:
“Just one thing. Do I ever make friends with Luthor again?”
She thought about how to tell him and how much to tell him. He was Superman, after all, she had to tell him something. Finally, she just whispered, ‘Someday.’”
No, this Superman is not hard core. You would never see him with glowing red eyes. He would not destroy most of a city just to fight Zod. This Superman is about hope, and I don’t mean some alien symbol that looks to us like an S. This is also a Superman not written exclusively for children, as we often hear said in today’s jaded exposition, calling him a “boy scout” or a “do-gooder.” This is the most complete version of Superman you could ever read about. And if you don’t believe me, ask Mark Waid, who is often credited with writing some of the best modern Superman stories:
“Miracle Monday is my textbook on Superman, who he is, and who those around him are. My textbook.”— Mark Waid
Elliot Maggin has published a second edition of Miracle Monday. You can find it here. You would be doing yourself a favor to read both of Elliot’s Superman novels.
