Bush vs. Gore, part 2

digresssmlOriginally published December 8, 2000, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1412

Well, well… who says that there are no third acts in life?

First act: The Presidential campaign. Second act: Election Day. Third act: The Aftermath, during which time the usually State-rights-oriented GOP is suddenly all for stopping Floridians from exercising their voting rights, and Dubbya backs hand counts as governor but not as a presidential candidate. Meantime the Democrats risk looking like little girly-man whiners, playing a high-stakes game that could backfire all the way into 2004 if the votes don’t turn around, while waiting to see if Gore’s appointing the Jewish Lieberman as his running mate pays off in a huge number of votes from Israeli-situated Floridians. At least, that’s how matters stand in this snapshot moment in time (naturally the situation will have shifted again by the time this column sees print.)

Book review: The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay

digresssmlOriginally published December 1, 2000, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1411

Toward the end of the 1930s, two young men teamed up to produce a comic book hero. They then sold all the rights to the character to a publisher for what seemed, to the young men, like a huge sum. The character then went on to make the publishers millions and millions of dollars, of which the character’s creators saw precious little. Meantime the character himself spent some time fighting Nazis, branched out to star in radio and in movie serials, and then, post war, had his adventures degenerate into silliness, while his original creators struggled to find themselves.

I am of course referring to Josef (Joe) Kavalier and Sam Clay (born Clayman), contemporaries of such luminaries as Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, Bob Kane, and Stan Lee. Kavalier and Clay, creators of the famed hero of the Golden Age, the Escapist. What’s that, you say? Never heard of the Escapist? Perhaps Luna Moth, then, a.k.a. the kinky “Mistress of the Night” whose collected adventures (The Weird Worlds of Luna Moth) became a head-shop bestseller when published by Nostalgia Press in 1970?

Neil Gaiman’s “Last Angel” tour

digresssmlOriginally published November 10, 2000, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1408

The worshipers sat in respectful, anticipatory silence in New York’s St. Marks church, waiting for His arrival.

Usually when the faithful attend the church, they have to settle for communication with He Whom They Worship to be within the confines of the heart, or the mind, or the soul. People don’t go to church expecting that there’s actually going to be a visitation from the Divine One. That he’s simply going to materialize before them, smile boyishly, say, “Hi, how you doing?” and proceed to chat them up for the next few hours. At least, I don’t think a lot of people expect that. Maybe a few. Hëll, maybe all of them. I’m Jewish. I know from latkes and the lyrics to all the songs from “Fiddler.” From Christian church services, I know zip.

With that said, there was nevertheless a thrill of anticipation in the air that was (by my guess) atypical for church gatherings. The lights went down, all eyes on the stage. Light shone on the pulpit. The wait stretched over minutes. Nothing happened. The folks in the crowd began to laugh or talk to each other. One idiot started chanting under his breath “Let’s go, Mets” (hey, I had to keep myself amused somehow.)

People started guessing that a sensational entrance was being planned and had momentarily misfired. “Maybe he’s going to be raised up on a platform behind the podium…” one person speculated. “No, he’ll be lowered down by ropes from the balcony,” guessed another.

A Decent Proposal, Part 2

digresssmlOriginally published November 3, 2000, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1407

When last we left what we laughingly refer to as “Our Hero,” the situation was as follows:

I had hit upon the brilliant scheme of proposing to long-time girlfriend Kathleen at The Adventurers Club at Disney World’s Pleasure Island. Everything was in place, with the members (i.e., cast) of The AC ready to make it a reality, the wall-mounted puppet known as “The Colonel” ready to work from the scripted proposal I’d drawn up, and everything set to go precisely at 10 p.m. that evening. The spanner tossed into the cunning plan was that my sister Beth and her husband Rande—down in Florida for a second honeymoon—were working in tandem with Kathleen to surprise me at The Adventurers Club, and the decision had been made to switch the rendezvous time to 9 p.m., threatening to foul up my carefully scheduled scheme and leaving me no way of informing the folks at The AC that we were going to be there an hour earlier.

Thirteen years ago today

I married Kathleen. My three daughters were there, and many dear friends came thousands of miles to join us in celebrating our happiness.

Not a day has gone by since then when I didn’t thank like lucky stars that Kathleen consented to spend the rest of her life with me.

PAD