Best! Weekend! Ever! (or, "Tales of TerrifiCon 2019, Part One") ~~ A "Comical Wednesday" Post

Up until about a week before TerrifiCon 2019, I was admittedly getting carried away. Between comic professionals whom I wanted to get signatures from, and media personalities whom I also wanted to get signatures from, I had a list of roughly three dozen people whose autographs I hoped to obtain. If you want to see my original list, minus a few last-minute add-ons by TerrifiCon, click here.

Luckily, almost a month before the convention, my sanity returned. I realized that there were several comic creators whose signatures I planned to get who didn't really matter to me. It was getting to be more like "Hey, Joe Artist is going to be at TerrifiCon! I must have something in my flea market stock I can have him sign!"

Well, two things finally occurred to me: 1. I'd be "collecting" things that didn't have all that much personal meaning for me. 2. Since most artists and writers charge a fee for signatures... I'd be wasting money. Ooh. Can't have that.

There were three cancellations, unfortunately, those being writer/artist Keith Giffen (who'd cancelled last year as well), writer Marv Wolfman (whom I'd met at TerrifiCon 2017), and one of the biggest "name" artists on my list, writer/artist George Perez.

Something else that saved me a s***load of money was when I found out how much the movie and TV celebrities were getting for their autographs. I won't name names here, but the lowest was $30, and the highest was more than $100.

And so... I crossed every last one of them off my must-get list. (The biggest disappointment was having to purge Val Kilmer. I've always been a fan of his, but I loved him as Doc Holliday in Tombstone.)

Okay, before I actually stop rambling and start telling about my two-day weekend (Friday and Saturday, August 9th and 10th), allow me to point out that I've arranged all my little anecdotes to accommodate my outline, so my stories will not be in chronological order.

Let us begin.

The first comic pro I visited was the lovely and charming Barbara Friedlander. As I told here, TerrifiCon 2018 was Barbara's very first convention. I was the one who told her she had a table where she could sit and greet fans. (How she'd missed that fact I'll never know, as TerrifiCon's head honcho Mitch Hallock seems to have almost everything down to a science.) I also had a nice chat with her last year, explaining how and why comic professionals usually charge for their signatures.

This year's TerrifiCon was Barbara's third convention ever, if I understood her correctly. She and I discussed the merits of TerrifiCon, and she implied that she may make this the only convention she'll regularly attend. Our conversation lasted fifteen minutes, maybe more. I loved the information I learned from her, and she seemed a bit surprised at the comic lore that I knew. Evidently, she has yet to learn that at a comic convention, people like myself are hardly an anomaly.

As far as obtaining Barbara's signature once again, she was recently the subject of a lengthy article in the 157th issue of Alter Ego, the comic fanzine edited by Roy Thomas. Since the cover didn't feature Barbara, I had her autograph the first page of the article itself.

I got to see Barbara later at not one, but two different panels. The first was Friday's "Romance Comics with Barbara Friedlander," a title which kinda speaks for itself. The second was Saturday's "Growing Up Is Hard to Do," a panel where several industry pros talked mainly about changes that have taken place in the Archie Comics during the past few years.

One of the great things about comic conventions is that one frequently gets to talk with the pros long enough to make some sort of impression on them so that they remember you from one meeting to the next. Before the first panel, Barbara waved to me and later even gestured toward me when one thing or another was mentioned that she and I had discussed at her table.

Starting in 1959 or so, I've been a comic book reader, collector, dealer, historian, and even the writer of a handful of comics. But the above-mentioned sort of interaction still gives me what comic and sci-fi fandom calls the "goshwow" factor.

There were plenty of goshwows at this year's TerrifiCon!

One of the comic artists I obtained a signature from was Jae Lee. Lee came to prominence in the early 1990s, at a time when far too many of the "fan favorite" artists seemed to have similar styles of drawing. His style was radically different, something I commented on and complimented him for. (Hey, if I didn't like his style, I wouldn't have stood there waiting for him to sign my book, would I?)

One thing I like to do whenever possible is bring something for a creator to sign that someone else probably didn't bring. If Joe Pro has a line where half the fans are having him sign the first issue of Captain Prunesqualor, I want to be the one to make him say, "Hey! This is the nude sketch I drew of my high school girlfriend on the back of a McDonald's bag in 1974. Where the hell did you get this?"

Sometimes what I bring gets a reaction like that. Sometimes not. When I met Jim Starlin last year, one of the books I had him sign was a copy of Star*Reach #1, something I thought would be obscure enough to provoke a reaction. Nope. What he did notice and comment on was that my copy of The Death of Captain Marvel was a first printing. Then he and I discussed how he sneaked Superman onto the back cover of a Marvel graphic novel.

Which segues into the following two stories.

This year, one of the convention guests was Bob Rozakis, best known as a writer for DC Comics who also worked in their production department. Rozakis was also known as DC's "Answer Man," in a long-running feature in DC's titles.

Bob Rozakis and artist Stephen DeStephano created a character called 'Mazing Man in the mid-1980s. "Maze," as he was known, was a slightly addled little fellow who thought of himself as a superhero, and always wore a costume. His superheroics were mostly confined to things like unclogging drains, rescuing treed cats, and babysitting. (The 'Mazing Man character was described in much greater details in my post "The Skivvied Superheroes, Part One.")

The 'Mazing Man series wasn't a big success in terms of sales, but it was critically acclaimed. Personally, I loved it.

I thought I'd pleasantly surprise Bob Rozakis by bringing a 'Mazing Man promotional poster that DC released before the series itself premiered. These posters were sent to retail comic shops, so I assumed they'd be in relatively short supply.

Well! When I made my way to Bob Rozakis' table, I saw that he was selling complete collections of 'Mazing Man, and Hero Hotline (another series he did with DeStefano). The 'Mazing Man collections had all twelve issues, three later one-shots, a 'Mazing Man appearance from DC's Secret Origins title...

...and that damned poster.

Bob Rozakis had a ton of 'em.

I had him sign it anyway.

Seated next to Bob Rozakis was Paul Kupperberg, whom I'd met last year. Between Friday and Saturday, I ended up talking to both of them quite a bit... mostly asking about the ever-changing start time for a panel called "A Look Back at DC History with Bob Rozakis." It was kinda fun how they'd both smile and wave to me whenever I walked by their tables... which was often.

There was someone else whom I was hoping to "ambush" with my choice of an item or items which I wanted signed. Greg Hildebrandt (with and without his late brother Tim) has long been associated with fantasy illustrations, movie posters, calendars, and much more than I should list in a post that's already dragged on for this long.

In the mid-1990s, however, Greg and Tim Hildebrandt spent a year illustrating a comic strip, a revival of the classic Terry and the Pirates, arguably the greatest adventure comic strip ever. The original strip was created by Milt Caniff in 1934 and was later helmed by George Wunder. It lasted until 1973.

Terry and the Pirates was rebooted for the 1990s by writer Michael Uslan, with the Brothers Hildebrandt slated to do the art chores. None of the Massachusetts papers carried the feature, but being a big fan of the Milt Caniff original, I coerced a Webster, Massachusetts, newsdealer to secure me a daily copy of New York's Daily News so I could follow the strip!

When I approached Greg's table, he was busy speaking with someone else. I approached his wife and manager, Jean Scrocco. I asked her about Mr. Hildebrandt's fee for signatures, and then showed her the three Terry and the Pirates Sunday pages that I'd brought.

You should have seen her eyes bug out.

She excitedly called Greg over and told me that I was the very first to bring him Terry and the Pirates Sunday strips to sign.

Greg told me the same thing during a conversation that lasted approximately twenty minutes. He and I talked about our mutual love for the original Milt Caniff comic strip, and how intimidated he and Tim had been to participate in the '90s update, and... well... all sorts of other things pertaining to their take on the strip.

It was Greg's idea to get a photo of himself, me, and the very first Terry Sunday that I'd had him autograph. I hate being photographed, but in this instance, how could I possibly refuse?

Two handsome, white-haired, bearded gents. I'm the shorter one.

This whole meeting with Greg Hildebrandt occurred before I'd spent two full hours at TerrifiCon 2019 on Friday, August 9th. And my weekend got even better, as it turned out.

You'll see.

Now. As it happens, even this relatively trimmed version of my TerrifiCon story will take five chapters, so I'm going to post them as they're written rather than space them out for a month. Therefore, you can pretty much ignore the literal interpretation of "Comical Wednesday" while this story unfolds. It'll be more like "Comical Whenever the Hell I Feel Like It!"

And if you read this, please comment? Especially if you came here from Facebook. Thank you.

And thanks for your time.

TerrifiCon 2018, Part Two ~~ A "Comical Wednesday" Post

Here, a bit delayed -- What else is new? -- is the second chapter of my unofficial "report" about this year's Terrificon (or TerrifiCon*) in Connecticut.

First of all, I should explain something to those of you who don't attend conventions, or anywhere else where celebrities show up. Comic creators (as well as other "famous types") generally charge a fee to sign autographs, and set their own rates for said fee.

Right now, for obvious reasons, I'm just going to focus on the practices of comic book creators.

Writers will often sign something for free, or ask for a token payment of as little as one dollar.

Artists generally charge five or ten dollars for their autographs. Why? For a few reasons, actually. Artists are often approached by fans to do sketches of particular characters, and these sketches are time-consuming to draw, but bring in some very good money. Therefore, if one, or two, or thirty people in a row ask for an artist's autograph --  Or, oftentimes a convention-goer will approach an artist or a writer with a good-sized stack of books to sign! -- they're theoretically keeping that artist from drawing a picture that'll fetch him or her big money, so the artists charge the signature-seeker something as a minor compensation. Plus, a lot of fans turn around and sell these autographed books (or whatever else they have the artist sign) for a profit, so I suppose the artist figures, "Why should this fan get something, and I don't get a piece of it?"

(By the way, if you think I over-used the word "artist" in that previous paragraph, it's because it'll be a cold day in Hell when I'll use "drawer" to describe anything other than part of a desk or a bureau.)

As I explained in Part One of my TerrifiCon 2018 posts, there were over a dozen comic writers and comic artists, plus some TV and movie celebrities, from whom I hoped to get a signature or two or three. I brought a printed list of the various writer, artists, and other celebs that I'd "targeted." I also had a relatively small stack of comics with me.

I was fairly lucky. There were only three comic creators that I "missed," one of whom (Keith Giffen) because he'd had a stroke and missed the convention. (I can't find any updates on his condition, in case you're wondering.)

So, to continue with my list of autograph "scores" in no particular order, let me begin with Barbara Friedlander.

Barbara worked for DC Comics during the 1960s. She wrote several stories for their romance titles and, as an editor, actually worked on comics other than DC's romance titles! Barbara was the only guest on a panel moderated by writer Paul Kupperberg (mentioned last time), and shared a few interesting tid-bits about her job at DC Comics, which she left in the late 1960s to get married. (Well, it was the '60s, don'tcha know, and a chance at wedded bliss almost always came before a woman's career.)

I got the impression that Barbara was fairly new to the whole comic convention experience, as opposed to so many of the guests of this convention and so many others.

My main interest in Ms. Friedlander's presentation was to hear about what part she'd played in the creation of a 1960s DC character I'd once followed named "Scooter." The Swing with Scooter comic began with a rather clever storyline. Scooter was an English musician from a hugely successful rock'n'roll band called "The Banshees" who quit the music business and moved to the USA. Put it this way: If the Beatles had been a five-member band -- we're talking about their British Invasion era, not the earlier years when Stu Sutcliffe actually was "the fifth Beatle" -- and Scooter had been that fifth member, it would have fit perfectly with the story presented in Scooter's comic.

The very first issue of Swing with Scooter #1.

Barbara co-created Scooter along with writer Jack Miller and famed comic artist Joe Orlando. She wrote or co-wrote many stories and features in those early issues. And despite what you may have read or may someday read, Swing with Scooter was not just another rip-off of titles published by the Archie Comics Group.

Well, not in the beginning, anyway.

Swing with Scooter #14. I'd given up on the title long before this.

Eventually (and unfortunately), Scooter's stories and artwork (and even the book's logo font, for cryin' out loud) changed to become just another ripoff of Archie. I had stopped reading the title long before then, and was extremely glad to learn that Barbara had left Swing with Scooter (and DC itself) well before the title changed for the worse.

I actually got to meet and speak with Barbara the day after I'd attended her panel. My friend John and I were preparing to enter a room where they'd be holding a panel devoted to Marvel's Black Panther character, and I noticed Barbara speaking with a fan.

John and I had a couple of minutes before the Black Panther panel began, so I got her attention and asked what she charged (if anything) for her signature. I had a copy of Swing with Scooter #1 (shown above) with me that I wanted her to sign later. She said she didn't charge anything, then asked "Why, do some people charge for theirs?" (Things like that are what gave me the impression that she was knew to this whole "convention thing.") I briefly explained that many creators do, and why.

Then I told her I wanted to bring a comic to her table later to have her sign it, and she said "Oh, I don't have a table. I'll just be walking around in the convention hall."

I hesitated before saying "Uhhh, yeah, actually, you do have a table. I've passed it a few times yesterday and today, but obviously, you weren't sitting behind it."

"Oh," she said, turning to a young man who was with her. "We'll have to go find it."

After the Black Panther panel, John and I returned to the main convention hall, and I approached Barbara and that same young man, both of whom were now seated at her table. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that although Barbara was preparing to leave for the day, she had waited just for me because I'd said I had something for her to autograph.

As we chatted, she collected various comics and magazines she'd worked on and loaded them into a briefcase. She really was preparing to leave. We discussed a couple of comic book professionals of the 1960s (and later) whom I knew by reputation, and then I said my goodbyes so she could be on her way.

Another convention guest I met was artist and inker Joe Giella. Joe's career started in the 1940s. He worked for C.C. Beck and later worked for Timely Comics (now Marvel) on Captain America, the Human Torch, and Sub-Mariner. Later he joined DC Comics, where he did the work for which he is most renowned. From the Golden Age and into the Silver Age, he inked characters such as the original Flash, the original Green Lantern, Black Canary, Batman, the Silver Age Green Lantern, and the Silver Age Flash. In fact, Joe is the oldest living Batman artist. (Joe's ninety!)

I do not own a copy of The Flash #123 (shown above), the oh-so-valuable "Flash of Two Worlds" which firmly established the concept of parallel worlds at DC Comics. Then how, you might wonder, did I manage to get the following signature?!?

Quite simple! I cheated. Well, kinda. In the year 2000, DC reprinted that landmark issue as part of their series of "Millennium Editions" and I do own a copy of that, which Joe signed for the (I thought) ridiculously low price of  four dollars.

And here's a treat for you comic trivia mavens! The cover of The Flash #123, published in 1961, has inspired several tribute covers, like the following:

(The "legwork" for the above seven covers was actually done by a guy named Mark Engblom, who runs a fun website called Comic Coverage. Check it out!)

And this fan creation is probably my favorite!

Anyway, did you know that the cover of The Flash #123 was actually based on the cover of a totally unrelated DC title published two years earlier? Here it is:

And now, back to Joe!

Mr. Giella also autographed a "real" Silver Age comic for me, the Giant Flash Annual from 1963 which was and is one of my all-time favorite annuals, as I said here. Joe inked several of the Flash stories reprinted in that incredible issue.

Actually, I was lucky enough to get another classic Silver Age issue signed as well, Green Lantern #16, the 1962 story which introduced the character known as Star Sapphire!

It was really nice to get to meet someone who was involved in the creation of so many comics that I read as a little foxling.

Now, the next encounter I want to tell you about is my meeting with writer (and fellow New Englander) Don McGregor, whose stories I first encountered in the early 1970s. McGregor may be known best as the writer of some incredible, ground-breaking Black Panther stories he did for Marvel Comics in the 1970s, but my favorite of all his works is his run (with artist P. Craig Russell) on Marvel's "Killraven, Warrior of the Worlds" series in Amazing Adventures.

McGregor's style of writing was very wordy -- not that something like that could ever bother me, of course -- and I always felt I was getting my money's worth reading his stories.

Okay, fellow babies, it gets more than a little wordy here – there's that word again, and you're going to see it a lot in the next few paragraphs -- but that's very appropriate, so please don't leave me now!

When I approached Don McGregor's table, he was standing in front of it. He greeted me very briefly, then turned to speak with an artist whose name I unfortunately can't recall. Their conversation lasted quite a while, but I stood a few feet behind Don, waiting patiently because, after all, I had two comics for him to sign. When his conversation ended, he turned and realized I had been waiting. He apologized profusely, walked around to the other side of the table, and sat down. There was no one else in line, so for the next few minutes, his attention was totally on me.

The “Killraven” series was originally called “The War of the Worlds,” as it was based on the novel of the same name by H.G. Wells. Simply put, Wells' story described a failed Martian invasion at the dawn of the 20th century. The Marvel series established that the Martians attacked again roughly 100 years later, and this time, they conquered and enslaved our people. (In 1973 we were safely removed from the 21st century, so creative minds could predict all sorts of things!) Killraven and his band of “Freemen” were part of the resistance, you might say. After a promising start, the series floundered a bit, despite writing by such stalwarts as Gerry Conway and Marv Wolfman, and I was on the verge of no longer buying the title.

Then Don McGregor took over the writing chores, and things improved drastically.

McGregor's plotting, characterization, and dialog kept me absolutely enthralled (as they did whenever I encountered his other projects over the years). And my modern-day self suspected – hell, hoped – that Don would be as wordy in person as he was on the printed page.

He did not disappoint me.

Finding only one to bring, out of all the Killraven stories, was difficult. There were two issues that stood out, and I finally narrowed it down to one:

I gave him the above-shown issue of Amazing Adventures, spouting a few words about how much I enjoyed the series, and rather than just saying “thank you” and signing the damned thing, he looked at me and asked “Why did you choose this issue?”

Like he cared.

Cuz he did care.

I explained that the issue I'd brought to him had the satisfactory resolution of a handful of plotlines, et cetera, et cetera.

The story in question contained a sub-plot involving a group of people making a pilgrimage of sorts to worship at the foot of a giant metal archway. At the story's conclusion, that archway ended up being revealed as the remains of a 20th century McDonald's! Don was referring to that when he signed my book, as shown below.

I had one other comic for him to sign. In 1984 and 1985, Don and legendary comic artist Gene Colan (1926-2011) produced two four-issue mini-series featuring a 1930s detective named Nathaniel Dusk. Issue #3 of Nathaniel Dusk II ended on a “cliff-hanger.” Dusk was locked in a steam room, and the heat setting for said steam room was set high enough to fry Dusk in a matter of minutes. The beginning of issue #4 told how he got out of this fix.

Another writer might have spent two, maybe three pages showing how the hero extricated himself from his predicament. Don took twelve pages. Twelve. And he made it interesting. No, scratch that. He made it riveting!

I told him that over the years, I have bought literally thousands of comics, and parted with most of them at one time or another. Sometimes I'll buy one or more a second time, years later. There are even books I currently own which I've owned three different times.

However, as I told Don McGregor, I've had my original copy of Nathaniel Dusk II #4 since it first came out in 1985. And when I said that, he launched into the “story behind the story” of the steam room, as it were.

Wordy? Oh, you bet. And I loved it. I loved it so much, in fact, that I'll even forgive him for twice writing my name as “Dave” rather than “David.” That should show you what a nice guy I can be.

It was only much later that I figuratively kicked myself after realizing that I had forgotten to tell him how much I'd enjoyed his work on Topps Comics' Zorro series back in the '90s! And Zorro was one of my role models!

Next Wednesday: Part Three of my Terrificon experiences, where I describe meeting several artists (and one amazing writer/artist) involved in some of the many comic book stories about Thanos, the main baddie in last spring's blockbuster film, Avengers: Infinity War!

Thanks for your time.

P.S. ~~ COMING SOON! (Watch for it!) A Re-Posting of One of the Best (and Longest) Stories I Ever Posted on This Blog!

*Even their own website doesn't seem to know!