tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38045978363609081742024-03-14T03:13:49.567-06:00Karl Wiebe: rants, raves & reviewsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-39042123842255934112020-08-22T20:18:00.001-06:002020-08-22T20:18:22.353-06:00Chilling With the Mum<p> Hanging with mummy</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhK2zrQ8rKJWw6gCug2tZmDUt-6JHtlVqUVBZ0gy7zk5BXurN4VgrgYicS-Lg3DyyiX3neHQnPnZZm6zjQMCK26oeWzCPX-7HTDuUihZP6Gs0CfvzZVRuTWuBI5M9az9XzhrDa8-3JxEU/s2048/01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1463" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhK2zrQ8rKJWw6gCug2tZmDUt-6JHtlVqUVBZ0gy7zk5BXurN4VgrgYicS-Lg3DyyiX3neHQnPnZZm6zjQMCK26oeWzCPX-7HTDuUihZP6Gs0CfvzZVRuTWuBI5M9az9XzhrDa8-3JxEU/s640/01.jpg" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-51810434408484966952015-09-23T12:20:00.001-06:002015-09-23T12:36:06.155-06:00MANHATTAN BATHROOMNew York City! We had arrived on vacation! However, no one told me that New York City in September would be 30 degrees. You know it is bad when it is 8:00 am and you are already sweating. By noon, my wife and I had trekked out onto the Brooklyn Bridge, elbowing past tourists and narrowly avoiding getting run over by bicyclists commuting into Manhattan. Every picture I have ever seen of the Brooklyn Bridge is peaceful and majestic. However, in real life it is joggers, tourists, selfie sticks and people on bicycles screaming past going about 100 km/h.<br />
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In addition to the raging, loud traffic below, there are two lanes on the Brooklyn Bridge—one for people walking, and one for cyclists. Sounds easy enough, except that every tourist group that I saw had a "Grandma", and she wanted pictures! More pictures dammit! So Grandma from the old country would gather up the family in the regular walking lane, and then she would step out into the bike lane to take the picture. In the line of fire, of course, Grandma needs between 10 minutes and 2 days to actually work the iPad. Push the button to take the picture. Push the button. Push the button Grandma! The iPad only has one button. Meanwhile, a comet bicycle is fast approaching, a cyclist on a 10-speed screaming "BIKE LANE!! BIKE LANE!!" Whoosh and then there was much cursing and good times. <br />
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After the Brooklyn Bridge, we slowly trudged the Bataan Death March into Manhattan, hopefully someday to see the World Trade
Center, which is only a few short 30 blocks or so. The blocks on Google Maps are super tiny, they are like only an inch long! The city blocks
are much, much longer in person. Curse you Google Maps, and your false advertising. It doesn't help that the World Trade Center is about 4 miles high, so it looks like it is "right there"! An hour later, after hiking in the hot sun... it is "right there"!<br />
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<i>Everything in NYC is within walking distance. It's right there!</i></div>
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In order to not die from dehydration, I pulled my limp little raisin legs into the Midtown McDonald's. Even in New York City, a Coke with unlimited refills is like 99 cents. Beautiful. Enjoying the air conditioning and the smell of deep-fried... something... I started to feel better. My bladder is the size of a grain of sand so within 10 minutes I ran off to use the public restroom.<br />
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<b>Public restroom.</b> If the sight of those words make you start to gag, you are obviously a world traveler. I figured as bad as a bathroom in Manhattan could be, someone has to come along and clean it, right? Right? Eventually? There was a line up to use the men's washroom. The door was locked, and then a nice elderly gentleman was ahead of me.<br />
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"Dammit, whaz takin' so long..." the elderly man was muttering. I shrugged.<br />
"Good Lawd, hurry the fuzz up..." I shrugged.<br />
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Finally the door opened. Out stepped Jeffrey Dahmer.<br />
Well, he looked like Dahmer anyway. Like... exactly like Dahmer. The hair, the glasses, the dead eyes... it was more than a little disconcerting. Dahmer walked past me.<br />
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"There's a bit of a mess in there," Dahmer quietly said as he passed me.<br />
Good Lord. It was like <i>Silence of the Lambs</i> except more gross than being a cannibal.<br />
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<i>I left you some fava beans in stall #3, Clarice. Slurp slurp!</i> </div>
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Dahmer slinked away into the restaurant and the elderly man opened the door. He recoiled at first and then pushed ahead. As the door slowly closed, I could hear "Awwwww HELL NO."<br />
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Click. Now there was only one. <br />
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I bolted back to the table, frightened and confused. Would the elderly man be OK? Even worse—would I have to identify his body? I sat and waited. Minutes passed. More fine McDonald's Coca-Cola was consumed. Suddenly I saw the elderly man. He and his wife were leaving the restaurant—although I couldn't hear him, he appeared angry and agitated, arms flailing. The wife looked disgusted. I am pretty sure I knew why. Oh Jeffrey Dahmer, you lovable rascal, what did you do?<br />
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Well now I had to see. I wasn't going to just leave and spend the rest of my life wondering just how dark humanity could be. I walked back to the bathroom and there was no lineup. I slowly approached the door. It was like the final scene of the movie <i>Seven</i>. <br />
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<i>What's in the box? What's in the box? Also, don't go in the bathroom Brad Pitt!</i></div>
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I slowly opened the swinging door.<br />
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The sight was so horrific, I began to question actual physics. I wasn't even mad that I couldn't use the bathroom. I was simply trying to process what I was seeing.<br />
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The toilet seat was covered in poop, but that much we were all expecting I think at this point. Nothing new there. What really moves this into the realm of "amazing"? I scanned the room, my eyes wide like the astronaut during the final minutes of <i>2001: A Space Odyssey</i>. <br />
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<i>My God... It's full of stars... or possibly Glossette raisins, I am not sure.</i> </div>
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Question: how could human waste be on the wall at shoulder height? How was that possible? Is there a Neil Degrasse Tyson of bathrooms, someone to walk me through how such a thing can happen? <br />
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In a related question: how can someone spray two walls? TWO? Was there a turn involved halfway through he maneuver? Maybe it was like a figure skater trying a new move? This was the triple lutz of pooping apparently.<br />
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I ran away and told my wife we had to leave—NOW. I was worried that someone was going to see ME coming out of the bathroom and think that I did that. It wasn't me! Honest! I didn't need to get arrested, detained, deported, or—the worst possible punishment I could think of—made to clean it up. No thank you very much, I grabbed my 99 cent Coke and burst out into the sunny Manhattan afternoon. The adrenaline was pumping, we were on the move, and it was only 45 more blocks to the World Trade Center. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-35648422249244016162015-09-21T20:56:00.001-06:002015-09-22T10:49:32.085-06:00How to See Amazing Fantasy #15 at the Library of CongressI had a great vacation in Washington D.C. and was able to view the original artwork for Amazing Fantasy #15. Here is the process that I went through and wanted to document it in case you are interested in seeing it for yourself. I hope this helps! <br />
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The Library of Congress is located in beautiful Washington, D.C. Don't get this confused with the many great free museums in DC. The museums fall under the "Smithsonian" banner, so if you are a museum person and you want to wander around air conditioned museums, google "Smithsonian Washington". I checked out the <a href="http://americanhistory.si.edu/" target="_blank">Museum of American History</a> and also the <a href="https://airandspace.si.edu/" target="_blank">Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum</a>. I had a great time at both. <br />
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However, if you want to see the comic book art, that is located in the <b>Library of Congress</b>. <br />
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A few years ago, an anonymous donor handed over to the Library of Congress the original artwork that Stan Lee wrote and Steve Ditko drew for <b>Amazing Fantasy #15</b> (1962) which is the first appearance of Spider-Man. This artwork is not on permanent public display, although pages will go out to various exhibitions on occasion. However, you can request to see it. I wanted to document the process and hopefully this helps if you are looking to check it out in the Washington D.C. area.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHVjtACCDAZ7f929oyUFU-T3wMfbddsLxvvaZh5O2YTMwDpHWOXnHtW7cwaU-FNc21BFDIRHLHk73joHgxuXG4zD5wXx5TzRAFZvSw2wMd08y0JIujAKHJmd2bML3teE2cvgCeFwRWX9E/s1600/Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHVjtACCDAZ7f929oyUFU-T3wMfbddsLxvvaZh5O2YTMwDpHWOXnHtW7cwaU-FNc21BFDIRHLHk73joHgxuXG4zD5wXx5TzRAFZvSw2wMd08y0JIujAKHJmd2bML3teE2cvgCeFwRWX9E/s400/Cover.jpg" width="262" /></a></div>
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<i>The cover was not donated, but you can request</i></div>
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<i> to see the original interior artwork.</i></div>
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Amazing Fantasy #15 is housed in the <a href="http://www.loc.gov/pictures/" target="_blank"><b>Library of Congress Prints & Photographs</b></a> division. <br />
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<b><u>Request an Appointment </u></b><br />
You can email the librarian and ask to set up an appointment to view it. Go to the Library of Congress Prints & Photographs division (click the above link) and find the "contact us" link. They are very busy (they have hundreds of thousands of items) so make sure to request your appointment well in advance (like weeks in advance if you can). I talked with the librarians there and they mentioned that Amazing Fantasy #15 is one of the more requested pieces, so they will know what you are requesting.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8d3PPz9kEvXFzSkDJsjQ4VHdIvyk8UM8wIrsk-yFUj6K2uKlajjmuuhXMtlXYXX7W_7yuMk34mEjw_jc8hVpbel41gNREOyprl71-suAKParDlxEz5LMNuZ55k9NpsZergmjpAtiAJ_s/s1600/AFSplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8d3PPz9kEvXFzSkDJsjQ4VHdIvyk8UM8wIrsk-yFUj6K2uKlajjmuuhXMtlXYXX7W_7yuMk34mEjw_jc8hVpbel41gNREOyprl71-suAKParDlxEz5LMNuZ55k9NpsZergmjpAtiAJ_s/s400/AFSplash.jpg" width="275" /></a></div>
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<i>Splash page. I requested to view the original artwork.</i></div>
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<b><u>Go To the Madison Building</u></b><br />
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Once you have an appointment, go to the building next to the Library of Congress, called the Madison Building. <br />
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<b><u>Go Through Security</u></b><br />
Hopefully this is common knowledge, but there is a security screen similar to airports to get into the building. It is fun watching people pull out four pounds of change, belt buckles, swords, chunks of uranium or whatever else people seem to be carrying around with them while in D.C. <br />
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<b><u>Get A Reader Identification Card</u></b><br />
Head to room 140 in the Madison Building. Make sure to bring government ID like a passport or driver's license. It is very quick to get a card (you fill out a form online and then they take your picture and give you the card within a few minutes).<br />
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<u><b>Go to the Reading Room</b></u><br />
Show up at your designated appointment time and sign in. They will pull the item(s) and sit with you while you view them. <br />
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<b><u> </u></b><br />
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<u><b>Sign The Waiver & Enjoy!</b></u><br />
The librarians could not have been more pleasant and helpful. They take great pride in their job and are happy to see people excited to see something cool and so historically important to the world of comic books!<br />
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<b><u> </u></b>I stayed for about 15-20 minutes (and quite enjoyed talking with the librarian, she has a very interesting job) while I took some photos. The pages are in mylar and of course no one is taking them out of the protective sleeve. There is some white out on the pages and liner notes. So cool!<br />
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A big thank you to the Library of Congress librarians for helping make my trip to Washington D.C. so great!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-90837384026996179372015-07-12T13:07:00.001-06:002015-07-12T13:07:12.607-06:00Creepy Comic Book AdsOne of the best parts about reading old comic books are the advertisements. I dug out an old Batman comic from the 1970s and was thoroughly enjoying the Dark Knight beating up some bad guys, but I have to say, I had forgotten about x-ray glasses and practical joke kits. As a kid, I thought these were awesome! As an adult... they are kind of weird and creepy. Which make them entertaining for entirely different reasons. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSKNvXlGrseSwjABARHyr8zrbYCbO7cwuEhzrpn4EW632KxqEEUXbTrHtLNTvXVPI16fjTfq0bSXfg5TG040Kq8O6e-GACHoPTONAo0dxlkPSGy5v0-Fgi4DGop4uQJOspOQItKCXdloM/s1600/IMG_4861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSKNvXlGrseSwjABARHyr8zrbYCbO7cwuEhzrpn4EW632KxqEEUXbTrHtLNTvXVPI16fjTfq0bSXfg5TG040Kq8O6e-GACHoPTONAo0dxlkPSGy5v0-Fgi4DGop4uQJOspOQItKCXdloM/s640/IMG_4861.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Creepy ads on the left, Batman on the right. Perfect.</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u><b>MoneyMaker</b></u></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9oDQ7n7XPs_kZgYNiwxvJtVfOw1aV3_wVc1jAdfsaVi0tNciRi6yUq9joDIlTbFz8oVaA4LGNpbZJDDfIHGnu4e4rW27oao5RARPs_cST2ayONruBOXFuus-jZxffKA-TDTvzwVczQkQ/s1600/Moneymaker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9oDQ7n7XPs_kZgYNiwxvJtVfOw1aV3_wVc1jAdfsaVi0tNciRi6yUq9joDIlTbFz8oVaA4LGNpbZJDDfIHGnu4e4rW27oao5RARPs_cST2ayONruBOXFuus-jZxffKA-TDTvzwVczQkQ/s640/Moneymaker.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Hey parents! If you think Superman and Batman are warping the minds of
youngsters... check out the ad for counterfeit money printing. Here we have what looks to be a
completely-legitimate printing press that churns out legal tender. Don't ask why the company is selling this state-of-the-art machine for $1.25, and why the business can't just print their
own $1.25 is beyond me. I guess that's why I am not running a
successful mail-order business—but hey, their loss is little Johnny's gain. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u><b>Secret Spy Scope</b></u></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUq8xXvzyqpT71QAsxy-x5KJQOX4ZW1BdI7l9UR6zJ3QAC_tZP7LYAIuASHQEUHcaGWHPoxAFP0roeBRKlh5o5iULibucdb4kVEbiIQ6rdkXLq6KITnCUVGszn9pBaOgnwRZKgpXTbA44/s1600/SecretSpyScope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUq8xXvzyqpT71QAsxy-x5KJQOX4ZW1BdI7l9UR6zJ3QAC_tZP7LYAIuASHQEUHcaGWHPoxAFP0roeBRKlh5o5iULibucdb4kVEbiIQ6rdkXLq6KITnCUVGszn9pBaOgnwRZKgpXTbA44/s640/SecretSpyScope.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Ha ha, little Ritchie is growing up and learning about birds, bees and the right to privacy! Hey, if the girl next door is sitting in her own backyard and trying to live her life, she is pretty much asking for trouble. That is the type of message that buyers of the Secret Spy Scope are thinking as they wait for the mailman, patiently hoping that the federal government will drop off the device needed to look at boobies before the invention of the internet and cable TV. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><u>Skin Head Wig</u></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw3YacpZYqsz-_CWoK-BhFcEFHWonP8_gNRcAgI9naMpNJrA1ugKl9FWytD1LujAUUob62QE3WNgLvFZGcQbAzC50bzcyes1bc4gspfqaFwKNE0Ki_pEx7-5utGAd45amw3KmGhBLMpuk/s1600/SkinHead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw3YacpZYqsz-_CWoK-BhFcEFHWonP8_gNRcAgI9naMpNJrA1ugKl9FWytD1LujAUUob62QE3WNgLvFZGcQbAzC50bzcyes1bc4gspfqaFwKNE0Ki_pEx7-5utGAd45amw3KmGhBLMpuk/s640/SkinHead.jpg" width="558" /></a></div>
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My only complaint about this product is the marketing. That is the best name that you can come up with, only 30 years after the end of World War II and right after the American Civil Rights marches? </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u><b>Raquel Welch Pillow</b></u></span></div>
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How does a kid ask his parents for this for Christmas? I was going to take a better picture of the words in the ad, but then again, what's the point—if a teenage boy is buying a Raquel Welch pillow, I am pretty sure we all know why. The most disturbing part of this is the part of the ad that says "Keep her for yourself or show her to your friends—liven up a party..." Hey there Reggie, thank you so much for bringing the pillow to the house party! Tell you what: let's throw it in the fire pit before any of our guests come into contact with it. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-86255883000489744872015-07-08T18:11:00.000-06:002015-07-08T18:12:10.380-06:00MARVEL IN THE 1980s: CHANGES, CHANGES EVERYWHEREIn 2014, Marvel announced that there was a new female Thor gracing the cover of the new Thor #1. Great cover and a cool story whereby Thor (like, the regular dude) is no longer able to lift the hammer, so he's out. Along comes mysterious lady and she can lift the hammer! Yay, we have Thor again.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrynX3jmR2OFLLOAVQA0TkNGK2w_p6c2eHAgwECTTyBNdlQevHodkshnFhsEL-HC0dRWJWmkO5W5V7Cxg_O4CpEUQzjM1agSBtJe8cSiuXDTEWX3mrM5Bqbpa7oiUgpkglV6Nyak-2Ho/s1600/Thor1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrynX3jmR2OFLLOAVQA0TkNGK2w_p6c2eHAgwECTTyBNdlQevHodkshnFhsEL-HC0dRWJWmkO5W5V7Cxg_O4CpEUQzjM1agSBtJe8cSiuXDTEWX3mrM5Bqbpa7oiUgpkglV6Nyak-2Ho/s640/Thor1.jpg" width="416" /></a></div>
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This is not the first time of course that Marvel has "switched gears" and brought in a new person to be the mainstay. Back in my day, sounding like an old man, there was a time when almost all the Marvel heroes changed in some way. That ancient era was the 1980s. Let's take a look at some of the big-name heroes who got new looks, new identities, or some weird change happened. Overall, it was pretty cool—as a kid reading the comic books, these heroes and villains now felt like "mine", rather than reading about some old 20 or 30-year-old story.<br />
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<b><u>Black Suit Spider-Man</u></b><br />
Appearing in Amazing Spider-Man #252 and Secret Wars #8, Spidey found an alien blob (or rather, the alien blob found him). Peter Parker wore the alien symbiotic suit for a few years, eventually losing it in Web of Spider-Man #1. The suit got mad and turned into Venom in Amazing Spider-Man #300. Love the black suit!<br />
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<u><b>Captain America (Cap)</b></u><br />
Steve Rogers got into a fight with the government over some shady dealings and said "hey man, I'm done". Well, it was a little more complicated than that, but Rogers gave up being Captain America and a couple of new guys took over—meanwhile, Steve Rogers became "The Captain" and donned a cool black costume. Wait a minute... cool black costume... I'm detecting a trend here.<br />
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Of course, Rogers eventually got the gig back and the other guy (John Walker) became U.S. Agent. This is a great storyline that runs from Captain America #332 to #350. <br />
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<u><b>Iron Man</b></u></div>
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There were a couple of changes in the 1980s with Iron Man. First, they brought in James Rhodes to be Iron Man for a while, and Tony Stark kind of bumbled around for a while. It was cool to have another guy be in the suit, because it shows that Iron Man is more than just a bunch of weapons—there is a guy making decisions in there. </div>
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Iron Man then took on Iron Monger in a great storyline that formed the basis for the first Iron Man movie. Iron Man has a history of changing his armor every 5 minutes it feels like, but this was the first time his changed colors since his original grey armor from the super old days. </div>
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<b><u>Incredible Hulk</u></b></div>
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In the very first issue of The Hulk, Bruce Banner turned grey. In the second issue, he suddenly turned green. He stayed green a long, long time, but then in the 1980s he turned grey again. </div>
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The Mighty Thor<br />
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In the 1980s, Thor got a buddy named Beta Ray Bill. Man how I hope that Beta Ray Bill shows up in the movies, because he is awesome! <br />
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Thor also was turned into a frog for a couple of issues, and this really encapsulates what made Thor a great titles in the 1980s under Walt Simonson - lots of twists, turns and fans truly did not know what was going to happen next. These are great issues.<br />
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For some reason, Thor donned a mask and some full armor for a while in 1987. I'm not sure why the mask was needed—it's not like he's Clark Kent working at the local newspaper or TV newsroom. "This just in! Thou dost wonder how greateth this news anchor is... and coming up next, the football scores." Looks kind of cool I guess, but I like the original Thor uniform. <br />
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Of course, all of these changes were undone and eventually we went back to the old standards—red & blue Spidey, classic thor, Steve Rogers as Captain America, and green Hulk. I'm sure that lady Thor will disappear someday as well, but for now, we can at least ride out this storyline and enjoy the change for as long as it will last. <br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-83276209572172566262015-07-05T10:36:00.003-06:002015-07-05T16:59:44.390-06:00Spider-Man Mythology: Murky Missed OpportunitiesOne of my favorite super heroes is Spider-Man. The Amazing Spider-Man comic book originated in 1963 and Stan Lee and Steve Ditko took a 15-year-old kid and made him a household name around the world within 5 years. After Ditko left the book, the great artist John Romita showed up and put his stamp on it, giving Spider-Man the legendary look and feel that many still associate with Spidey today.<br />
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Ditko Spider-Man:<br />
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Romita Spider-Man:<br />
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However, I am not here to rant about the artwork. (I love both.) I want to talk about changes—specifically characters dying. Change is good in a comic book. Eras change, years change, clothes and hairstyles change. No one says "daddio" anymore. Cell phones and iPads are in and derby hats are out.<br />
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A pivotal moment in Spider-Man's life happens with the death of long-time girlfriend Gwen Stacy in Amazing Spider-Man #121. The Green Goblin kills Gwen Stacy and this changed the tone of the books—in fact, many comic book fans consider this the moment that silver-age books went from silver age to bronze age.<br />
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Issue #121 is my favorite comic book of all-time. The very next issue, the Green Goblin is killed. The Green Goblin is Harry Osborn's dad, Norman. Harry Osborn just happens to be Peter Parker's best friend. So in two issues, back to back, we have Peter lose his girlfriend and the father of his best friend—and he had a hand in both of those deaths. Brilliant stuff. I love it. <br />
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Instead of Spider-Man just battling robots and guys in long underwear, he becomes "real" at this point—he suffers loss and grows up from a teenager to a man. Fans like me see Spider-Man as a "real" person (from a writing perspective, anyway). There are real-life consequences. It also helped that Peter Parker graduated high school, and eventually university, and then also moved around and wound up having a relationship with Mary Jane Watson. Things change, just like in real life. Peter Parker was different than Archie Andrews for example, who is stuck in timeless Riverdale with Jughead for 60 years.<br />
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Another key person in Peter Parker's life is Aunt May. Remember, uncle Ben died in the very first Spider-Man story (in Amazing Fantasy #15) because Peter Parker didn't stop the bad guy when he had the chance. From a writing perspective, Aunt May is Peter's lifeline to that other world and many storylines involve Peter trying to keep his aunt safe.<br />
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Aunt May dies in Amazing Spider-Man issue #400.<br />
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This is a great issue. It came out in 1995. I highly recommend it. At the end, Aunt May reveals that she knows that Peter is Spider-Man. The writing is terrific. It has heart and feels "real". This marks the first time since 1974 that someone major in Spider-Man's life (really major, not just a supporting character) died. From Gwen Stacy / Green Goblin in 1974 to 1995—for about 20 years, no one died. Yes, super villains came and went, and Spidey donned the black suit, and characters were introduced, and Peter Parker even got married to Mary Jane Watson. But no one died. Marvel characters were becoming such important money makers that it is inconceivable that you could kill off a main character. Between 1974 and 1995, Marvel characters were becoming like Disney characters—you couldn't throw Goofy off of a bridge, no matter how much we all want to.<br />
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Marvel was stuck in the mid-1990s now, because it is really tough to keep coming up with new story ideas. How many stories had Spidey been in so far?<br />
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<li>400 Amazing Spider-Man stories</li>
<li>100+ Spectacular Spider-Man </li>
<li>100+ Web of Spider-Man</li>
<li>100+ Marvel Team-Up</li>
<li>50+ "Spider-Man" stories (the Todd McFarlane series)</li>
<li>literally hundreds upon hundreds of cameos, Secret Wars, Infinite Wars, cameos, etc. </li>
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What else can you do with this guy? As a writer, it must have been torture to show up to work everyday. One idea was to have Spider-Man / Peter Parker retire, and his old clone (from waaaay back in Amazing Spider-Man #149) not actually be dead. <br />
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This idea was presented in the mid-1990s, and his clone was suddenly alive, called Ben (after good ol' uncle Ben) and he was a clone of Peter Parker, physically identical but living a separate life from issue #149 onward (so from about 1975 onward, or about 20 years).</div>
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Marvel premiered Ben with his own look and feel, calling him the "Scarlet Spider". </div>
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I actually thought this was a cool idea. Here's a guy who is Peter Parker, but not Peter Parker. He doesn't have feelings for Mary Jane. He might still love Gwen Stacy. But the new guy has all the powers of Spider-Man. From a writing perspective, I thought this was a fresh and new idea. He could tangle with villains like Venom who knew Spider-Man (Peter Parker), but the new Spider-Man (Ben) wouldn't know who Venom was. New Spider-Man would have missed the whole 1980s (Hobgoblin, Kingpin, Secret Wars, black alien suit, etc). Again from a writing perspective, this would have opened up the floodgates to have 400 new stories over the next 20 years. </div>
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You could also occasionally follow Peter Parker, who would be married to Mary Jane and maybe even crank out a kid or two. Peter Parker with mini spider-kids? Of course, the kids would be mutants, and have powers, and the next 50 years of stories would be ready to roll. Jane the spider-daughter! Come on man, this stuff is writing itself! </div>
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Marvel killed this whole idea within a couple of years. In 1996, barely two years into having started the whole "clone" storyline, Peter Parker returned, rescued Ben and regained his role as the "rightful" one true Spider-Man. </div>
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Really? Instead of a true reboot, Marvel killed the one true opportunity to have fresh storylines for the next 20 years. Understandable, but still disappointing. In an even worse twist of fate, Marvel exposed the following: the Green Goblin never really died. Norman Osborn was really alive all this time! Come on man. </div>
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So issue #122 (one of the hallmark, great landmark issues in all of comics) was totally cheapened. Marvel would do the same sort of thing over the next 20 years. Changes that were undone: </div>
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<li>Aunt May didn't really die. It was a "fake death" with someone just pretending to be Aunt May lying in the hospital bed. Aunt May was still alive, even though she is like 200 years old and always on the brink of dying. Come on man! </li>
<li>Mephisto popped up and took away Peter Parker's and Mary Jane's wedding. He stole their love and Peter Parker wakes up as an unmarried guy with no memory of what happened. I hate it when that happens. Come on man! </li>
<li>Spider-Man and the new Green Goblin battled in Spectacular Spider-Man #200. The new Green Goblin was Harry Osborn, taking up the mantle of the evil Green Goblin. Harry died in 1993 in a battle for Mary Jane, eerily similar to the Gwen Stacy death, on top of a bridge. Awesome story. Nope, Marvel undid that as well. Time is "turned back" in a future storyline and Harry is now still alive. </li>
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Peter Parker wound up dying in Amazing Spider-Man #700. Finally, the end of the great run arrived, warts and all. Dr. Octopus, who is dying, winds up switching bodies with Peter Parker, so Parker dies and Otto Octavius is now in a healthy Peter Parker body.<br />
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<img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6fnXeqlpFyI7StP1W8SrN-SQTVaCz5kfeUwHkbBSE5qHzqQTLe7Sc9RBmoh4Lc0F3ITqLjFzLctSDtQ6uMSmoN0gRv_dJFDV5Ri4ARpp1iQx7fQP13_6vMN8o0ovMq3YzD0hmhlEayI/s400/ASM700.jpg" width="260" /> </div>
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Cool cover at least. Anyway, this ended the original Amazing Spider-Man run. Fans were outraged again. Peter Parker was dead? For a couple of years, the Superior Spider-Man ran around, which was really Dr. Octopus' mind stuck inside Peter Parker's body. Of course, Marvel undid that change as well. Peter Parker is back!</div>
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So that leads us back to this: </div>
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<img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyjVqVJUJYZMpD8sz7ZokGjxNLbBw5zJmK-DWUKBVqsTaHorLqQS6S1Jl-IiMyYmUUiRxdlutH5NE6hcGCkPvVX4dZMIvj5S7_65V5ABsRkX3C1XfymJ2mMMlkMPbcMxaYz_OeAilskc/s400/ASM1.jpg" width="263" /> </div>
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We're back to the beginning, with a brand-new Amazing Spider-Man (which debuted in 2014). He's 28 years old and the origin story has been "retconned" (basically rewritten) to include other people like Cindy Moon (who is she? New character.) The spider also bit someone else, so we have a female Spider-person as well. </div>
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I'm all for changing characters, but this is getting convoluted, complicated and quite frankly, hard to follow. If changes are constantly undone, then what's the point in following any of it? </div>
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I'm not railing against Marvel or Spider-Man. I love the Spidey. And Marvel's in a bind—they can't kill off or change Spider-Man in any meaningful way, because he is their big money maker. </div>
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From a strict writing standpoint, here is what I would have liked to have seen: </div>
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<li>Gwen Stacy dies in Amazing Spider-Man #121. Never comes back. </li>
<li>Norman Osborn dies in Amazing Spider-Man #122. Never comes back. </li>
<li>The clone survives in Amazing Spider-Man #149. He does come back. </li>
<li>Aunt May dies in Amazing Spider-Man #400. For real. </li>
<li>Harry Osborn dies in Spectacular Spider-Man #200. For real. </li>
<li>Peter Parker really does die in Amazing Spider-Man #700. Maybe he sacrifices himself of something, but he's dead for real. Never comes back. </li>
<li>Ben (the clone) is alive renames himself Peter Parker and separates from Mary Jane (since he's not really married to her). This gives the fans a Spider-Man and also gives us new characters, as Ben can meet other people and have a circle of new characters in his life.</li>
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It's frustrating that fans say that they want change, but then when actual change happens, people flip out and demand the old status quo. <br />
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It will be interesting to see how Marvel handles the increasing weight of years of storylines for Spider-Man. Does he stay 28 years old forever? Do we go through all this stuff again? Do they even acknowledge the stuff that has happened over the past 50 years? If you aren't going to acknowledge it, why not give him a big, grand meaningful death and find a new Spider-Man? His son? Daughter? Bueller, Bueller?<br />
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The nice thing about comic books is that fans can read the old stories and pick a "starting point" and an "ending point", and we can mentally discard the stuff that we don't want to worry about. Plus, it's all made up anyway, so hopefully no one takes any of this stuff too seriously. After all, we are talking about a guy wearing pajamas who is punching a guy who looks like a rhino, a goblin or an octopus. <br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-66088298007513952192015-07-01T16:56:00.001-06:002015-07-01T16:56:28.562-06:00THE DECLINE OF MODERN COMICS: ARTWORKAt the risk of sounding like a grumpy old man, I would like to showcase a few old comics and a few new comics and just wonder aloud about why new comics just don't seem to look as good (in many but not ALL instances).<br />
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Comic books have been on the decline now for years. If we take a look at the total paid circulation for one of the best-selling superhero books of all time, The Amazing Spider-Man, the sales from 1966 to 1969 averaged around 350,000 books per month. In the 70s and 80s, the books popularly was still good, but average sales were around 280,000 per month. <br />
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In 1997 to 2008, the average paid circulation was around 120,000 per month. It's not even close to what it was. Why is this? By the way, the source for the sale data is found here: <a href="http://www.comichron.com/titlespotlights.html">http://www.comichron.com/titlespotlights.html</a><br />
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One of the reasons is that many Marvel and DC Comics don't get listed for sale in what was normal channels when I was a kid (back in the 1970s and 1980s). If you visit a 7-Eleven or your local supermarket, there aren't any comic books for sale, and if they are for sale, they are few and far between. <br />
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Prices have also skyrocketed - booked in the 1980s were anywhere from 25 cents to $1.00. Double-sized issues were sometimes $1.50. Nowadays, the minimum for a comic book is $3.99 US and some larger issues are $5.99 US! Yikes that is a lot of money for 20 minutes' worth of entertaining. <br />
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It's kind of sad because comic books were a big part of my youth and there are entire generations of kids growing up not reading anything—books, comics or anything. Anyway, that is a separate rant. I want to talk about the actual artwork. In my opinion (and that is all this is, just one man's grumpy old opinion), the Bronze Age artwork is phenomenal. The Bronze Age is generally accepted to be from 1970 to 1985. Check out <b>Jim Aparo</b>'s Batman:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyT9NpmGpT_QhSbu11XBYGtXlbmGOQH_eOLX6hl2qzHDLn79pKzFLr2Rf7M3k3tl8VpP2t9efuRFswFAw31XHmTGxzr3r2JcrbeIjiLl6KACnBzKhOZKOnQTQRmtYevij1-zkJnTvW_7M/s1600/Detective446Aparo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyT9NpmGpT_QhSbu11XBYGtXlbmGOQH_eOLX6hl2qzHDLn79pKzFLr2Rf7M3k3tl8VpP2t9efuRFswFAw31XHmTGxzr3r2JcrbeIjiLl6KACnBzKhOZKOnQTQRmtYevij1-zkJnTvW_7M/s640/Detective446Aparo.jpg" width="418" /> </a></div>
The Detective Comics logo, the title at the bottom, just brilliant!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzI28QSw4zyWrFZ5uiDS3A5ygR_SYMqc06Lp6vTgUvlcVDexYtKntWiizidrAOYf6PZiau7wUuoZC3RTMz-3jhL03lAYdbzaJP9olF1Hc84VzLSPDHEBP8EwE_SVVyEv7GFaehfeyHy8w/s1600/JimAparo01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzI28QSw4zyWrFZ5uiDS3A5ygR_SYMqc06Lp6vTgUvlcVDexYtKntWiizidrAOYf6PZiau7wUuoZC3RTMz-3jhL03lAYdbzaJP9olF1Hc84VzLSPDHEBP8EwE_SVVyEv7GFaehfeyHy8w/s640/JimAparo01.jpg" width="430" /></a></div>
Jim Aparo can make even Batman sitting at a desk talking on the phone exciting!<br />
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What I love about Batman's look in the 1970s is that he looks "real"—he is a human being, proportioned like an Olympic athlete, but still a human being, and is consistently drawn. Fantastic.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakbt_M2uQEoBBmE7EzC_fvkcSKWFlQlr0xo5OxwMbaXwxU95NQrY8-jYU44k8EiyOGXLyBERSv4QLGryhSgGAPKG7xhOFZhz4bOj24lv5N_LGV2H1wEamU3X9GMeakZi2vABHvkz1R_g/s1600/Batman360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakbt_M2uQEoBBmE7EzC_fvkcSKWFlQlr0xo5OxwMbaXwxU95NQrY8-jYU44k8EiyOGXLyBERSv4QLGryhSgGAPKG7xhOFZhz4bOj24lv5N_LGV2H1wEamU3X9GMeakZi2vABHvkz1R_g/s640/Batman360.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Compare that to more modern comics, such as the cover to Batman #671:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbD1K9LPusrYGhW9YV5KnvB_aqnf4Au9hJJXWWJvwd0RSl-BCxoGXft94pn6Iji_-EJcy3M1w-qpiq-WbXK3YGiP4xz0U9oyQJlqgmz7JDrjCggkftxWYZDKfqFSTmlFdMDCKycuO9j3g/s1600/Batman671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbD1K9LPusrYGhW9YV5KnvB_aqnf4Au9hJJXWWJvwd0RSl-BCxoGXft94pn6Iji_-EJcy3M1w-qpiq-WbXK3YGiP4xz0U9oyQJlqgmz7JDrjCggkftxWYZDKfqFSTmlFdMDCKycuO9j3g/s640/Batman671.jpg" width="412" /> </a></div>
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While the artwork (the actual pencils) are pretty good, I am not a fan of the super-thin inking, the logo being almost completely covered, and especially the computerized coloring. Again, this is just personal preference. This cover is actually pretty good. But I like the old style better. </div>
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Another example, this time the exact same artist old-versus-new: <b>John Romita</b>. His work on Amazing Spider-Man is legendary. Here are a couple of examples: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheYCIthbMyoweJ4faN9TikTViCLhwREw27sK-ZL46HmkM4Ed79AO_qrE5jmwLO1J6AltaP0UqkxRwnWCREihGVa7vmzOrFJIz49FB-y7GiJGl8DYI9jbuH_lmCe8Di8e5Vga82R_BBs6A/s1600/ASM65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheYCIthbMyoweJ4faN9TikTViCLhwREw27sK-ZL46HmkM4Ed79AO_qrE5jmwLO1J6AltaP0UqkxRwnWCREihGVa7vmzOrFJIz49FB-y7GiJGl8DYI9jbuH_lmCe8Di8e5Vga82R_BBs6A/s640/ASM65.jpg" width="428" /> </a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOIC6cVwMtpKW6UplUIdtzOicg_sJ0dhDG2uzvijPJKCbzFKC_t3P0Gd5rM9XUhE5u-bsDcCrcVzvQdF91u5gaGw4Eev6md5ZgdXHQVhRK6vjnJmHzz1PjMJOZ_K6OwJGQMngJ2rLG2yw/s1600/ASM122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOIC6cVwMtpKW6UplUIdtzOicg_sJ0dhDG2uzvijPJKCbzFKC_t3P0Gd5rM9XUhE5u-bsDcCrcVzvQdF91u5gaGw4Eev6md5ZgdXHQVhRK6vjnJmHzz1PjMJOZ_K6OwJGQMngJ2rLG2yw/s640/ASM122.jpg" width="436" /></a></div>
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And of course, the greatest Romita of all: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpMaEPfHQKdZ_CEqQDEjkN9PpSNaNRDVhW03lynrTwwhfEATePvzkXOhgs11tIJy261bVp1jPjqFXq48UY2HJvJKY7mNe3aW7yaX5qebKQcTj0XP3P6YZsmevkor8srp0t6pQEokGaWA/s1600/Amazing_Spider-Man_Vol_1_121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpMaEPfHQKdZ_CEqQDEjkN9PpSNaNRDVhW03lynrTwwhfEATePvzkXOhgs11tIJy261bVp1jPjqFXq48UY2HJvJKY7mNe3aW7yaX5qebKQcTj0XP3P6YZsmevkor8srp0t6pQEokGaWA/s640/Amazing_Spider-Man_Vol_1_121.jpg" width="420" /> </a></div>
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Now let's compare the above examples to Amazing Spider-Man #600 (variant) which came out in 2009, about 35 years later: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkL0KYdt_Fl0JIPlmSqfzOVukjgPttRm2kobCGY6kSotsABkQoDa-66xTgv9S2PIKKfpj05ZSeVKCAvvIZ2cpElhlZ6Uk8QtdWV1deMV1dTXr6jIEkjm29WmAgxMNje1yikP7vdw8nEYQ/s1600/ASM600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkL0KYdt_Fl0JIPlmSqfzOVukjgPttRm2kobCGY6kSotsABkQoDa-66xTgv9S2PIKKfpj05ZSeVKCAvvIZ2cpElhlZ6Uk8QtdWV1deMV1dTXr6jIEkjm29WmAgxMNje1yikP7vdw8nEYQ/s640/ASM600.jpg" width="412" /></a></div>
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I think that J. Jonah Jameson looks, well, cartoony. They all do. Spidey looks like he's part of a Saturday-morning cartoon show or something. Is it the coloring? Is it the inking? Is it Robbie Robertson no longer puffing on a pipe? I don't know. Again, this isn't a slam against John Romita—I LOOOOOVE John Romita's stuff. I just think the modern-day artwork is not as good as the 1970s stuff. </div>
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Artwork (and the production values) change over time, and also styles change—what is popular these days is not necessarily what was popular back in the 1970s. I personally think that 1950s comic books don't have great artwork—there is a certain charm to a 1950s Batman comic, but I don't find it greatly appealing in any way. </div>
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Maybe 40 years from now someone will be ranting about how their space comics are not as good as the 2015 comics from yesteryear. Hopefully comics will still be around for that debate to take place!</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-66905399415719044792015-06-09T09:59:00.001-06:002015-06-09T09:59:12.572-06:00JOHN ROMITA - Best Spidey Artist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Just a few John Romita pictures because he is the best Spider-Man artist of all-time in my opinion. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDbk0fGbzIQYwLcVBPMZEofcCFkF5JKNBBTZSbX-uh_JHWVRqovA1G0Ee_m-MCREY-wrzowui4bVC94zxswJd9x3TDBOZft3dvbbHcpX_wY0SxBV81xklV5PSqsf6b7JiVdxmk5OzNFU/s1600/Spidey+Romita.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDbk0fGbzIQYwLcVBPMZEofcCFkF5JKNBBTZSbX-uh_JHWVRqovA1G0Ee_m-MCREY-wrzowui4bVC94zxswJd9x3TDBOZft3dvbbHcpX_wY0SxBV81xklV5PSqsf6b7JiVdxmk5OzNFU/s1600/Spidey+Romita.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgnY4zUW1n4JY4FuwmwiKYVhtyl7H4SSeC5riC9R-TYX4k7AkWFmgVN9EOVkmPtWeM-uSMyq_7ZyJh0mnH0Y3NaEfVSRuuMOe9UKljqXdWnMsxC5E5NCA-wLlOrRsY8vQ2YaBBEqL4EKc/s1600/ROMITA39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgnY4zUW1n4JY4FuwmwiKYVhtyl7H4SSeC5riC9R-TYX4k7AkWFmgVN9EOVkmPtWeM-uSMyq_7ZyJh0mnH0Y3NaEfVSRuuMOe9UKljqXdWnMsxC5E5NCA-wLlOrRsY8vQ2YaBBEqL4EKc/s640/ROMITA39.jpg" width="408" /> </a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs6mHEIeKu2hyiqB2x0hY2HtLNR-TaK8y3ftyztfmIkdoeSciKQGCaOx0i9wSEVFP1u7-HVPsUnhMjc9dBXadpDEmvg_BAzc_6Wd_kTg2kPMzunQosz29KcMgQh346DhvKWT7gdhscVwU/s1600/ROMITA62.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs6mHEIeKu2hyiqB2x0hY2HtLNR-TaK8y3ftyztfmIkdoeSciKQGCaOx0i9wSEVFP1u7-HVPsUnhMjc9dBXadpDEmvg_BAzc_6Wd_kTg2kPMzunQosz29KcMgQh346DhvKWT7gdhscVwU/s640/ROMITA62.jpg" width="420" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigdr5RSsWo04vN1OpmC1PGBG9GhEBNKZgsJ07Qo7pWIaJ-mtmCyknczZnwDe-tIm_wwPM6rpHyMq5vEyho1nG-8R4mib2h3goxa5DYNf_yPukbMwfW0O31aht5Ec3ojRuJCy2P5RaT_XQ/s1600/ROMITA50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigdr5RSsWo04vN1OpmC1PGBG9GhEBNKZgsJ07Qo7pWIaJ-mtmCyknczZnwDe-tIm_wwPM6rpHyMq5vEyho1nG-8R4mib2h3goxa5DYNf_yPukbMwfW0O31aht5Ec3ojRuJCy2P5RaT_XQ/s640/ROMITA50.jpg" width="420" /></a></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-46614498788133862015-05-18T08:36:00.003-06:002015-05-18T08:36:39.415-06:00NIGHTCRAWLER (Film Review)Nightcrawler just showed up on Netflix yesterday so I jumped at the chance to see it—I really like the types of films that Jake Gyllenhaal chooses. <i>Enemy</i>, <i>Prisoners</i> and <i>Zodiac</i> are just a few of the creepy movies that he enjoys being a part of. Gyllenhaal is a big part of the movie Nightcrawler—a film about a guy who chases down death and injury in Los Angeles, sneaking around filming people at their worst and then selling it to the news channels. <br />
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nightcrawler_%28film%29" target="_blank"><img alt="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nightcrawler_%28film%29" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBh3wAogyADDNQxxNq-GgKU_RYY0IyloKf8k3Dq6tEolBwvxj_YOIrGZUiT6-XXBu8kGDXJGNNas4rl2Z377DB7F60RHrcKY4EUYRg8jbpjhY1GxwO-0rD4N8GchOkJXftz0keoSFgjQ/s400/nightcrawler.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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If you like crime movies, or thrillers, then this one is a slam dunk. Gyllenhaal plays the role of Lou Bloom, a weird combination of really ambitious and hardworking guy who also just happens to be antisocial, awkward and a complete psychopath. Or sociopath. Anyway, he shows zero empathy and it is chilling to watch.<br />
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The American Film Institute named Nightcrawler one of the ten best films of 2014, and you won't get any argument from me. I think Gyllenhaal is a great actor. He is riveting to watch.<br />
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One of the things that annoys me about movies is often they will insert a love story in there somewhere—as if women won't see the movie unless there is some chance that the protagonist will smooch someone by the halfway mark. Well, there is a woman "love interest" in this film, but it is definitely not the usual romance arc of a story. I don't want to give anything away, but let's just say that the relationship that Lou Bloom is seeking out seems to perfectly fit with his original personality.<br />
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I really enjoyed this film and recommend Jake Gyllenhaal's other creepy movies like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prisoners_%282013_film%29" target="_blank">Prisoners</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/End_of_Watch" target="_blank">End of Watch</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zodiac_%28film%29" target="_blank">Zodiac</a> as well. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-84630663829497389282015-05-17T08:23:00.004-06:002015-05-17T08:23:50.297-06:00FRANK (Film Review)One of the things that I love about weird films is that they are, well, weird. You get to mentally go somewhere intellectually and emotionally that normally you wouldn't go. One of the things that I struggle with, however, is that the weird movies are... well... weird.<br />
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Such is the case with Frank, a film written by Jon Ronson (author of "So You've Been Publicly Shamed) and Peter Straughan, who wrote the movie version of Jon Ronson's book The Men Who Stare at Goats. Both Ronson and Straughan were/are musicians and this movie is a bizarre cocktail of musicians, mental illness and escape. Plus it's weird.<br />
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Start with Frank. He's the lead singer of a local English band. He's like Jim Morrison—poetic, cool and comfortable on stage to a degree—except he happens to wear a giant mascot head. All the time. Like while riding in a car. Or in the shower. <br />
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_(film)" target="_blank"><img alt="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_(film)" border="0" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif6iaf3CHFZUpgXAxnUefoAuJdk5MocDUH7mQXo0mrN29S6AuK-8eRzzXypkxIiylV-vyihTfJtoeMSCbM5Egu_D08Eslat43Pa9idGpA_cjq3TsSt3Dc395ly6Hjrqz5Hu8DgrEhbxhQ/s640/frank.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I was a teenager when Nirvana's music hit big. Before they were world famous, however, there was a relatively small group of fans (in Seattle and wherever they toured) that were hardcore, dedicated fans, but the larger world, kids like me would not really get it until they were globally huge. Then all of us suburban regular kids jumped on board. At my high school, a local band (really local, like made up of kids at the actual school) played "Smells Like Teen Spirit" a year before Nirvana broke big. So none of us had ever heard this strange new grunge music before. We all sat there in stunned silence (and not good stunned silence). When the band was done, there was no slow clap that grew into a raucous roar of approval. We just sat there. We wondered what all that weird noise was. This didn't sound like Poison or Bon Jovi at all! Such is the attitude with Frank—the main protagonist (a keyboard player) joins this weird indie band and as a viewer, I can't decide if they are either totally brilliant or churning out complete drivel. There seems to be a thin razor's edge that separates the two.<br />
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These quirky films can be tough to watch, especially at home. It's difficult to get into a strange art film when telemarketers are phoning, the UPS guy shows up at the door and the cat decides he wants to throw up on the carpet. However, I watched this film alone (it's on Netflix) and got right into it. Put the phone away. Let the cat vomit sit there for a couple of hours. The characters in the film are not very likable, but they are, surprisingly realistic. I've been around talented musicians that never seem to get their act together, so for me this film rang true. <br />
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It's never serious enough to be a great drama and it's never funny enough to be a great comedy—but the combination between the two genres works. The really weird thing is that about halfway through the film, I stopped seeing the large Frank bobble head. Frank appeared somewhat "normal", which is really saying something about how strange the other members of the band are. Overall, it was a weird, trippy dark movie and if you like those types of movies, this could be time well spent. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-13984189535501118942015-05-15T19:38:00.000-06:002015-05-16T09:07:26.506-06:00SO YOU'VE BEEN PUBLICLY SHAMED (BOOK REVIEW)It seems like every week there is another dummy in the news—someone tweeting some stupid joke that isn't funny, or someone caught on camera yelling profanities at a kid's soccer match, or harassing a reporter just trying to do her job. Author, humourist filmmaker Jon Ronson has written another solid book. <b>So You've Been Publicly Shamed</b> is a funny and surprisingly scary look inside the world of social media and how, if you make the nameless, faceless mob angry, it can turn on you and crush your life within a day.<br />
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I really like Jon Ronson—I have seen him on The Daily Show and he has a strong Internet presence with blogs, YouTube videos and his own <a href="http://www.jonronson.com/shame.html" target="_blank">website</a>.<br />
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/So_You%27ve_Been_Publicly_Shamed" target="_blank"><img alt="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/So_You%27ve_Been_Publicly_Shamed" border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJbiSJXDiAtpZfeMU-KTIZtRYoCOO5FhjhaYUwLtnJK16l3cC1pbLT4M0vtxmpEFkaFUviFrJbqohc21L9y2RJfBDoDALRP4GguqWdmNin-pU3Obf9r1Rgb2SVDaipwr8olCo35MAPxvw/s400/Shame.jpg" width="265" /></a> </div>
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The book starts out innocently enough—Ronson confronts some academics who thought it was okay to set up a fake "Jon Ronson" twitter page. No harm, right? He also interviews a lady who sent out a weird joke about AIDS (wasn't well received) and another lady who stuck out a middle finger and pretended to yell while visiting Arlington National Cemetery. The Internet said "no" and her life was pretty much destroyed—with an overwhelming landslide of hate, threats and public shame, she lost her job and lives in fear of her current employer finding out. </div>
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I love Ronson's writing style—he is part of the story. He attends workshops and describes things that are happening to him. It really feels like you are just having a coffee and listening to him tell you weird stuff that happened to him. </div>
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The book also explores the history of public shaming (and why the government does not use shaming in most courts today) and also the idea of the punishment fitting the crime. On the one hand, each of these people in the book screwed up and did some weird stuff that most people would find a little strange and possibly offensive (or even very offensive). Does that mean that their lives, jobs and future opportunity should be completely destroyed? It is a fascinating question and Ronson does a great job of asking the question and then just following the leads, wherever they take him. </div>
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Highly recommended! </div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-24963074008023259792015-05-15T19:17:00.001-06:002015-05-16T09:05:49.648-06:0020 CENT MARVELSI love collecting old comic books. But how old is old? I have heard countless times from friends to proclaim that they have a stack of old comic books, and then when I check the books out, they are from 2005. That's not really "vintage." Then they wonder why there is a middle-aged man sitting along in their basement laughing and laughing. Get out of my house, jerk. <br />
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One relatively easy (and quick) way to see how old your comic books are is to check out the date on the cover. It's not perfect, but it will give you a general idea on the age of the book.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u><b>Golden Age (1930s - 1950s)<span style="font-size: small;"> = 10 cents</span></b></u></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><u>Silver Age (1960s)<span style="font-size: small;"> = 12 cents & 15 cents</span></u></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-LMiIvGRQxbgRt_doqL8UODcqb8CZ3ZCZFbuBAO5tYa6gswmnW6kBzZnbb32rmJ98MJm3GPP_58RKnXMiKNc3Uy6kj1MWTb4UTFJ5yqqkBJty-z_gRwMRNTMvBaK12fRCYNv4GTQ0zBc/s1600/12+cents+Detective.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-LMiIvGRQxbgRt_doqL8UODcqb8CZ3ZCZFbuBAO5tYa6gswmnW6kBzZnbb32rmJ98MJm3GPP_58RKnXMiKNc3Uy6kj1MWTb4UTFJ5yqqkBJty-z_gRwMRNTMvBaK12fRCYNv4GTQ0zBc/s400/12+cents+Detective.jpg" width="276" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyYr3WAs5yGnV8qu1qIH5PBIgPwIMT4WVAq6MpIUWn7C-s5mBG3whyuy9DNZNYvQAnAtjeMALY3cy0uMvPB9iDZjzYQbrXHg3a5NAIvCSfJ3h4fATr76aznEfg5iNanKLVdRHwQdxbS-A/s1600/ASM-15cents.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyYr3WAs5yGnV8qu1qIH5PBIgPwIMT4WVAq6MpIUWn7C-s5mBG3whyuy9DNZNYvQAnAtjeMALY3cy0uMvPB9iDZjzYQbrXHg3a5NAIvCSfJ3h4fATr76aznEfg5iNanKLVdRHwQdxbS-A/s400/ASM-15cents.jpg" width="262" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u><b>Bronze Age (1970s) <span style="font-size: small;">= 20 cents, 25 cents, 30 cents</span></b></u></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlf3VnDswqibSq51FHFQXGvHdzXlUZkqlUpA9oHOxKRKR9D5iRFzzKoygTiy_lBbLpm8cct0xauSBgAWhiF4PUN54KAE5Sv0O678RWraQ6WYEQUGwVSj8tiG9N2wOX8Gd_anXTsY8lVu8/s1600/S307-30cent.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlf3VnDswqibSq51FHFQXGvHdzXlUZkqlUpA9oHOxKRKR9D5iRFzzKoygTiy_lBbLpm8cct0xauSBgAWhiF4PUN54KAE5Sv0O678RWraQ6WYEQUGwVSj8tiG9N2wOX8Gd_anXTsY8lVu8/s400/S307-30cent.JPG" width="257" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0mTjoXv-hhJcKOyXEJrWILJwcs24caLvbBL34WkFr9jPVwSd1qhrE1Jhl3eDDJ1TmHwsmW7zYKMSSvxA0dNVwWcLGdJ1XckDdUmqewkiO50qa5AeOa5JoSAPE0dT8CtW4o0bqhW5wog/s1600/Amazing_Spider-Man_Vol_1_121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0mTjoXv-hhJcKOyXEJrWILJwcs24caLvbBL34WkFr9jPVwSd1qhrE1Jhl3eDDJ1TmHwsmW7zYKMSSvxA0dNVwWcLGdJ1XckDdUmqewkiO50qa5AeOa5JoSAPE0dT8CtW4o0bqhW5wog/s400/Amazing_Spider-Man_Vol_1_121.jpg" width="262" /></a></div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Copper Age (1980s)</span> = 60 cents, 75 cents, $1.00</b></u><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmp6TSv81-JPNPHnyQrwdsL3rWYp_NGW0ed1QUw8FOjmR9YQkj1oPp6nfcyD4eh9ne5WeB5cJjayx3DBHCt3G7aGX7jyhHpwrSF6eWp7fgRaawN9VaginpwoakdywPPiKrGnGjLIZhkao/s1600/SecretWars75cents.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmp6TSv81-JPNPHnyQrwdsL3rWYp_NGW0ed1QUw8FOjmR9YQkj1oPp6nfcyD4eh9ne5WeB5cJjayx3DBHCt3G7aGX7jyhHpwrSF6eWp7fgRaawN9VaginpwoakdywPPiKrGnGjLIZhkao/s400/SecretWars75cents.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdr0LpjWeHYOfUJOwmh0ypTbE-sC2meSu1i3FbhASa5Qa9fX75VaY3SbzClxlB5WrTkuS33TYLHyOtHp4vjMurSfw9HLE7vGSWdA5p3a7VaCsBEVwG806Dv4QXgA8b04xWuTCjc-Bv9Gc/s1600/WW318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdr0LpjWeHYOfUJOwmh0ypTbE-sC2meSu1i3FbhASa5Qa9fX75VaY3SbzClxlB5WrTkuS33TYLHyOtHp4vjMurSfw9HLE7vGSWdA5p3a7VaCsBEVwG806Dv4QXgA8b04xWuTCjc-Bv9Gc/s400/WW318.jpg" width="263" /></a></div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Modern (1990s and later)</span> = $1.00, over a dollar </b></u><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnW7WRxDnthfk7naiBq0_-uM1P2ZOg5Wk0rHbGwxEBShRQ_KHaMTgz_-1BumjV3LYqt5LM30wFE0vdY_P-gJhOP7NfnepqOipSQcBGjxTzckv5Ycz0eWYPi6QEmJNYUni8J8pnLq5yIQ/s1600/ASM316.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnW7WRxDnthfk7naiBq0_-uM1P2ZOg5Wk0rHbGwxEBShRQ_KHaMTgz_-1BumjV3LYqt5LM30wFE0vdY_P-gJhOP7NfnepqOipSQcBGjxTzckv5Ycz0eWYPi6QEmJNYUni8J8pnLq5yIQ/s400/ASM316.jpg" width="265" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqe6AyR4ET3cRGDXtG6VlVzUQ9mkY24loNWv2VnqcOJRbwerUkG-BWxjmfJySozrcbDXshRIrT_hbQphwWG362TmB7sqazv7m4WXvpA89WZeYXiCBQDPoqAYuslc-svyI9hvA-Mu0gF4/s1600/Batman426.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqe6AyR4ET3cRGDXtG6VlVzUQ9mkY24loNWv2VnqcOJRbwerUkG-BWxjmfJySozrcbDXshRIrT_hbQphwWG362TmB7sqazv7m4WXvpA89WZeYXiCBQDPoqAYuslc-svyI9hvA-Mu0gF4/s400/Batman426.jpg" width="263" /></a></div>
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Again, this is just a rough guide—and an excuse to enjoy some cool comic book covers! Most new comic books won't ever be worth a ton of money, but some will!<br />
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My personal favorites of all are the Marvel "20 cent" covers. I just love the combination of "teaser" words at the bottom with the beautiful illustrations. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_P6VZcbdQhaujlnC1QYd2PwiyBcofFA1BHudUNhl3mpSLT7kwa4j-FxBiM6f1QwXGMoBpGSUe2zO5Axwp0Us94lVtbk2JN9Xn66iH0HC20e9Aih7BIT5nOJ1i0DQ73zYrQdnDPrHkelo/s1600/ASM129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_P6VZcbdQhaujlnC1QYd2PwiyBcofFA1BHudUNhl3mpSLT7kwa4j-FxBiM6f1QwXGMoBpGSUe2zO5Axwp0Us94lVtbk2JN9Xn66iH0HC20e9Aih7BIT5nOJ1i0DQ73zYrQdnDPrHkelo/s640/ASM129.jpg" width="409" /></a></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-43104057681132240972015-04-03T09:06:00.001-06:002015-06-23T12:23:14.858-06:00CGC CASE - POSSIBLE SCAM?I really like CGC. As a comic-book collector, I like the idea that if I pay big money for a high-end collectible comic book, I am going to get the grade that I paid for. If you are new to collecting slabbed comics, CGC stands for <a href="http://www.cgccomics.com/index.asp" target="_blank">Certified Guarantee Company</a> and they are the premier grading company in the business.<br />
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CGC takes your book, inspects it for any signs of restoration, and also assigns a grade to it. They also put it in a hard plastic shell (usually called a slab by fans) and then you can handle the book without worrying that the value will plummet if you touch it, breathe on it or look at it funny.<br />
<br />
There are a few reasons why you might want to get a book slabbed:<br />
<ol>
<li>The comic is very expensive and you want to sell it someday</li>
<li>You don't want to risk having it decay or get damaged</li>
<li>The comic is important to you on a personal level and you would like a cool showpiece. </li>
</ol>
Unfortunately, not every book comes back with a high grade. The very first comic book I ever bought was Web of Spider-Man #1. I recently submitted the comic to CGC and it came back with a much lower grade than I was hoping. I knew that it wasn't going to be a 9.8 or a 9.6, but I was hoping for a 9.2. Yikes it came back much lower, at a 7.0! Well, there was no point in keeping it slabbed (since no one is going to pay a premium for a mid-grade book) so I figured I would just crack the slab and see what the inside looked like. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6GIvkAWFuXy2FnVy8JKwELlcssQ9JougBqLedwWm33R9dZTZb8NG_D-lQ9NzXOX48xnWBH3x3Xldz9qF7ND9shEnisxeWkOOucL5KC-V7P7-WNzuR9PiZZKzFBQ0T0jvraT35Clbh7s0/s1600/IMG_3776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6GIvkAWFuXy2FnVy8JKwELlcssQ9JougBqLedwWm33R9dZTZb8NG_D-lQ9NzXOX48xnWBH3x3Xldz9qF7ND9shEnisxeWkOOucL5KC-V7P7-WNzuR9PiZZKzFBQ0T0jvraT35Clbh7s0/s1600/IMG_3776.JPG" width="476" /> </a></div>
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<i>Oh well, live and learn. Not every book will grade super-high.</i></div>
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Normally to unslab a book, you put a screwdriver in the seam and pop open the slab. The slab is designed to be brittle so that you can't easily tamper with it. When you pop the slab, usually the whole thing cracks up and looks like a smashed windshield.</div>
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Much to my surprise, I grabbed the slab, pulled on it, and came perfectly apart.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiamNuoo7WUrZq5Lk2H6VrpjUXGX4E4gIi3Lvbnm9CchJcHf1RmD5ibnH-ySSXVCJtha99QDiLGQwwUrgFt42tGtJmI5RezX3NQZAK12FjBQEClT53AwsaOGczI6wvqjzANVnihfeGmWr4/s1600/IMG_3781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiamNuoo7WUrZq5Lk2H6VrpjUXGX4E4gIi3Lvbnm9CchJcHf1RmD5ibnH-ySSXVCJtha99QDiLGQwwUrgFt42tGtJmI5RezX3NQZAK12FjBQEClT53AwsaOGczI6wvqjzANVnihfeGmWr4/s1600/IMG_3781.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Whoops.</i></div>
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So now I had a mid-grade comic book worth about four dollars and a perfect CGC case. I wondered: has this happened to anyone else? </div>
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I would like to point out that I have absolutely no interest in ripping people off. However, what would stop a person from printing a new CGC blue strip along the top? Everyone these days has Photoshop. While the comic book is fused into the plastic (kind of like a vacuum seal in hard but bendy plastic), the blue strip actually isn't welded into the slab at all. It's just a piece of paper. So in theory, I could take the 7.0 and make it anything I wanted - how about a 9.8? How about a 9.9? Maybe I add in a "printing error" variant or something that some collectors go gaga over? </div>
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This book is worth only a few dollars, but here would be another idea. Let's say I have a low-end silver-age Fantastic Four. Maybe it's restored. So I get it slabbed, and it comes back at a 2.5 restored. Not great. So I bust open that slab, change the strip to a blue 9.4 and then use this Web of Spider-Man slab, with the hologram, and glue it back up? Now I have a silver-age Fantastic Four at a 9.4 or 9.6, and what was a $50 book is now on the market for $800 or $2000. Yikes!</div>
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I took some close up photos of the book in the slab, but it is important to note that the slab in these photos is already broken open. It looks (at least to a novice, or someone buying something on eBay with sub-par photos), that it is a perfectly acceptable slab. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrWxlBy7-fOyNWjBJM-xGfB3A6pumh72ssHWqOKX9YsYdP1y-NhTWx6ovYdwA-DC8fU1B3irkiXdZ06X7GRJsKJAxuvFeCvfq-BlnUrJOsnYFQ2XEsgCRZE7vpj9JtlW3dMXAGSrLWGa0/s1600/IMG_3778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrWxlBy7-fOyNWjBJM-xGfB3A6pumh72ssHWqOKX9YsYdP1y-NhTWx6ovYdwA-DC8fU1B3irkiXdZ06X7GRJsKJAxuvFeCvfq-BlnUrJOsnYFQ2XEsgCRZE7vpj9JtlW3dMXAGSrLWGa0/s1600/IMG_3778.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i> I just stuck the slab back together.</i> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdSjdCZKXLNf2HBo0Qx4MVdkSYjcvB9DG7vuHsdWCBgwlSuGs0befNO7AE3K0YP47R7YVefRUSWeoWFe-V6Klnqi2YpWAgZBdpOGKgzyzkXtZ6IQL6YQhwD9Or3bHpHbRGcG4z6xwkk_I/s1600/IMG_3779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdSjdCZKXLNf2HBo0Qx4MVdkSYjcvB9DG7vuHsdWCBgwlSuGs0befNO7AE3K0YP47R7YVefRUSWeoWFe-V6Klnqi2YpWAgZBdpOGKgzyzkXtZ6IQL6YQhwD9Or3bHpHbRGcG4z6xwkk_I/s1600/IMG_3779.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>With a bit of glue, I am pretty sure it would be "good as new" to an unsuspecting buyer...</i></div>
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So what's the lesson in all of this? I am NOT trying to rail against CGC and claim that they are not good value. I like CGC. I buy CGC slabs. I think that their slabs are not perfect, but that is not a crazy statement to make. Nothing is 100% tamper-proof. There are all sorts of scammers out there. <br />
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Here's my opinion—if you are buying a slabbed book, especially an expensive one: <br />
<ul>
<li><b>Look at the actual comic book.</b> A lot of collectors just pay attention to the slab. Look at the book! Does it really look like a 9.9? Or even a 9.4? Just because the slab says 9.8, that doesn't mean that you should not even glance to see if there is a big crease or a popped staple or something on the actual comic book. </li>
<li><b>Check the slab.</b> Does it look pristine? Are there any cracks? Is it possible that someone replaced the book inside?</li>
</ul>
I have heard people claim that it is virtually impossible to crack a CGC slab without it busting into a bunch of unusable pieces. I just wanted to show my experience—that without really trying, I was able to get two perfect CGC slabs with the CGC hologram totally intact. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-77414024794475180652015-02-18T11:51:00.001-07:002015-02-18T11:51:01.160-07:00U2: THE DEFINITIVE BIOGRAPHY (Book Review)I love U2. I remember sitting in grade 8 art class, painting some watercolour of a potted plant and the teacher was cool enough to put on <i>The Joshua Tree</i> as we painted. I baked donuts in the early 1990s and listened to <i>Achtung Baby</i> and <i>Zooropa</i> in the kitchen. Great memories! Nothing in a book would every destroy those.<br />
<br />
Wrong! Well okay, maybe not. But John Jobling, the author of U2: The Definitive Biography sets out to do a "real" book, not some pablum spewed out by the big scary corporate U2 machine. And what a machine it is—they have been around for almost 40 years, have 13 studio albums, and have won more Grammy Awards than any other band. Even the Beatles only one 8—those tossers! Or maybe it's geezers. I'm still not sure if tosser or geezer is a good thing or a bad thing. Anyway, Jobling makes the claim that U2 is a huge money-making corporation they steamroll anyone who gets in the way. <br />
<br />
Like most biographies, it starts out a little slow—the boys are born in Dublin, or wherever, and they learn to play guitar or drums while working as chimney sweeps and textile mills. Or something along those lines. Things get really good when the boys all meet up in school. Bono is raw and unrefined, with more attitude than ability; Larry Mullen is not the world-class drummer that he is now. They are human (they argue and get petty and egotistical, like normal people) and success is definitely not guaranteed!<br />
<br />
Once Live Aid happens in the mid-1980s, U2 broke out into the world in a huge way, and the album <i>The Joshua Tree</i> also catapulted them to huge fame. One of the things about a chronological biography like this is that you can listen to the albums as the author writes about them—it is quite cool to read about <i>Rattle And Hum</i> and have <i>Desire</i> playing in the background. <br />
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What I really enjoyed about this book was the business side of the business—more time is spent discussing record deals and backroom boardroom deals than the writing and playing of the music. This is a great treat for someone (like me) who wonders about how much money these artists actually make, and the legal battles that they sometimes get into. It's not exactly <i>The Dirt</i> with Motley Crue (no one is taking their top off in the front row at the concert) but there are some very interesting business-related stories that I found very entertaining.<br />
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My only complaint with the book is that there is little if any mention of the latest album Songs Of Innocence and the disastrous launch through iTunes. Because these guys aren't dead and are in fact still making music, this book needs to get updated if it wants to be known as a definitive biography. I for one will be looking forward to an update—overall a very good read!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-44815618823215963272015-01-23T21:42:00.000-07:002015-01-23T22:24:09.895-07:001980s MEMORIES!I took a great professional development course recently called "Generations" where we learned about the differences between different age groups—did you know that Baby Boomers are people too? Crazy but true! I am a "Generation X" person, which means that I entered the world after the Baby Boomers but before Generation Y. One of the neat exercises that we did was share some big important memories from our childhood—many of them were tragedies, like the Challenger Space Shuttle explosion, or profound political events like the fall of Communism and the Berlin Wall. I spent a good deal of time reflecting on how the world today is much different than in the "olden days!" Here are some highlights that I remember and I hope you enjoy the trip down memory lane.<br />
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<u><b>Computers</b></u><br />
My family got a computer in the mid 1980s. It looked like this:<br />
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It did nothing. Well, that's not exactly true. I played chess on it. You could also type literally anything into it and get "command not found". Good times! Also, if you dropped, touched or even looked at the 5.25-inch floppy disks, they wouldn't work.<br />
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<u><b>Toys</b></u><br />
I stood in line at the Consumers Distributing for what felt like 6 days but was probably 20 minutes to try to purchase G.I. Joe action figures. The catalogue would always show awesome action figures that they never carried. To this day, when I hear "Consumers Distributing" I smile with delight that the company went bankrupt. It feels so good. I found these action figures at Sears (they were $3.00 each) and played with them until they literally fell apart. Snake Eyes once disarmed a nuclear bomb that Cobra Commander had planted in my bath tub. Good work Joes!<br />
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<u><b>Saturday Morning Cartoons</b></u><br />
Once upon a time, long ago, kids used to get up early and watch TV on the weekends. Superfriends was awesome, although I wondered why Superman needed a wimpy guy like Batman all in the same city. Superman was punching asteroids and Batman had a rope and Robin, who was a teenager in really short shorts. It was less weird back then, I promise. Aquaman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern... they were all just hanging out in the Hall of Justice, also known as the Greatest Place On The Planet. Why were the super villains so dumb as to attack the one city on Earth that happened to house all the heroes in one place?<br />
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<i>Cheesy writing... activate!</i></div>
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My favourite cartoon was this one called "Dungeons And Dragons". The general rule was to not bug me at 10:00 am because there was a guy with a magic bow and a unicorn as a pet! There was no VCR—life did not begin until 11:00 am on Saturday when the boring news or basketball game came on.<br />
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<b><u>Comic Books</u></b> <br />
Spider-Man got a new suit in the mid-1980s. It is still awesome even all these years later!<br />
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I find it weird that I think of Spider-Man still wearing this suit, even though it has been over 20 years since he wore it in the comics. Even more disturbingly, I don't find it weird that a guy in tight spandex is swinging around New York City. Totally normal. </div>
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<u><b>Music</b></u></div>
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Since there was no internet, and there weren't CDs, I spent New Year's Eve of 1985 making a double cassette mix tape of the best songs of the year courtesy of the radio and my parent's stereo system. It was a real art taping REO Speedwagon and Dire Straits in real time and then quickly editing down the DJ's comments before the next song came on. </div>
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My good friend Greg introduced me to one of the greatest rock bands in the world in 1985 with a mix tape of KISS. They were NOT in makeup. Well, they weren't wearing 1970s makeup anyway.<br />
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<u><b>Literature</b></u><br />
I know that I can handle whatever life throws at me, because I learned many decision-making skills on board a spaceship, in an Old West town and in a submarine. Thank you Choose Your Own Adventure. Plus I got abducted by aliens. Great books.<br />
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The best part was that after I got killed or the story ended, I would tell myself that I didn't REALLY choose that ending... in fact, yeah, in fact I really chose the OTHER ending! Yeah, that's the ticket.<br />
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<u><b>Wrestling</b></u><br />
In the 1980s, wrestling was completely real.<br />
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<u><b>Christmas </b></u><br />
I want to end with the greatest Christmas present that I ever got—a tabletop hockey set. Unfortunately, there was no way to know which two random teams were in the box—I got the Montreal Canadiens and Boston Bruins. I paid extra money next spring and got a bunch of extra hockey players sporting the colours of the Hartford Whalers, Colorado Rockies, N.Y. Islanders and many more. Strangely, Coleco spent all their money on the jerseys and had no money for different faces. They were all the exact same guy—I wonder if Larry the face model (I am assuming that was his name) is now a billionaire because every NHL player had his likeness in the 1980s. Awesome times! The only thing that was more challenging than scoring a goal was trying to find the hockey puck after it fell under the couch. <br />
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And then the 1990s happened and now we live in the future. I recommend spending a couple of minutes to think about the awesome toys and games that you had as a kid—it also helps us to appreciate the technology of today—I can better appreciate the high-speed Wifi and multi-gigabyte computers that we use to share cat photos with people in other countries. I Can Haz Technology Indeed, LOL Cat. I think it was Winston Churchill who said "those who cannot remember the past... are destined to look it up using The Google." Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-36978535241529839602015-01-02T22:39:00.004-07:002015-01-23T21:57:42.603-07:00PAUL STANLEY: FACE THE MUSIC (BOOK REVIEW)I am a big fan of the music group KISS. I remember sitting in my bedroom looking at the back of Marvel Comics, seeing Ace, Paul, Gene and Peter on an ad for music posters. Who were these guys breathing fire and shooting sparks out of a guitar? My parents had ABBA and Kenny Rogers records. I had never heard of KISS. They were mysterious rock gods who were like real-life superheroes. Fast forward to 2015: Paul Stanley (the guy with the star on his face) is the last of the original members of KISS to write his autobiography, called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Face-Music-A-Life-Exposed/dp/0062114042" target="_blank">Face The Music: A Life Exposed</a> and officially complain about his band mates. I have read the other three books, so now I can die knowing that I have read every word of these old men who love to badmouth the other guys. One thing in common with these biographies is that in each case, regardless of which book you read, the author is the sane person and the rest of the guys are boobs. <br />
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If you enjoy reading the dirt on other band members and hearing about the struggle to the top, then these biographies are great reads. Paul Stanley is the front man for KISS and the book is really interesting. Paul grew up in New York and was born with a deformity (born without one of his ears). He really delves into it in the book and it is pretty cool to read someone talk honestly about being bullied and mocked. It is a downer getting made fun of all the time. He rose above it and spent most of the 1970s famous and (kind of) rich. Spoiler alert: the lawyers and manager mismanages the money! Plus there is plenty of sleeping around, crazy band stories and honest talk about what dummies the other members of the band were back then. <br />
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Of course, staying at the top as one of the most successful bands in the 1970s is tough -- it doesn't help when the drummer is snorting cocaine and the lead guitarist is drinking champagne for breakfast. Eventually Ace (guitar) and Peter (drums) were kicked out, and Paul Stanley talks about the lean years in the 1980s, the reunion in the late 1990s, and even confides that him and business partner Gene Simmons don't see eye to eye on some things. They aren't best friends, but they are respectful business partners who have grown KISS into a bazillion-dollar empire. <br />
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My only complaint about this (and any) autobiography is that they are written by the author, so they aren't exactly the poster child for unbiased journalism. Basically in this book, Paul Stanley is the sane and noble musician and the rest of the original members range from naïve but talented egocentric sex maniacs to completely inept buffoons. Peter Criss sounds so dumb it's a wonder he can barely tie his shoes or remember to eat food on a daily basis.<br />
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Here are the four autobiographies -- a must for any KISS fan to read and try to piece together what really happened during those crazy years. After reading the four books, I can honestly say that I know what it would feel like to sit at the dinner table at Thanksgiving with this dysfunctional family and listen to everyone argue while they pass the stuffing. <br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Face-Music-Exposed-Paul-Stanley/dp/0062114042/" target="_blank">Paul Stanley: Face The Music</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.ca/Kiss-Make-Up-Gene-Simmons/dp/0609810022" target="_blank">Gene Simmons: Kiss and Make-Up</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/No-Regrets-Ace-Frehley-ebook/dp/B0043RSJE0" target="_blank">Ace Frehley: No Regrets</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Makeup-Breakup-Life-Out-Kiss/dp/1451620829/" target="_blank">Peter Criss: Makeup To Breakup</a><br />
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<i>Who's the respectable musician and who's the dummy? </i></div>
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<i>It depends on which autobiography you read.</i></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-59462139400520903842014-11-29T10:17:00.000-07:002014-11-29T10:23:29.238-07:00JOHN FOGERTY CONCERT - SCOTIABANK SADDLEDOMEIf you ask anyone under 40 who John Fogerty is, you are taking a gamble. Most people don't recognize the name. In fact, a small portion of people would also get angry and demand that you "stop phoning them at 2:00 am". Well I am sorry, I was having trouble sleeping, random person in Newark. Anyway, John Fogerty was the lead singer of the band "Creedence Clearwater Revival" and he also had a few solo hits in the 1980s. If you have heard "Proud Mary", "Fortunate Son" or "Centerfield", then you have heard of John Fogerty.<br />
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<i>One of the first records I ever heard my parents play.</i></div>
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I went to the concert with my mother, who is now retired so what better way to celebrate than to sit in a big hockey arena and smell other people's weed. I think that is why you work all those long hours in an office. Now that she is officially a senior citizen, getting to the Saddledome via C-Train was risky business. I resigned myself that I would either show up and see her waiting by the West Entrance, or she would have talked to a stranger and I would never see her again. 50/50. Luckily she was at the Dome so I put my phone away, did NOT dial the police and weep uncontrollably, and went inside.<br />
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Fogerty played a couple of years ago at the Corral (a much smaller venue) and did not sell out, so I knew there was no way that he was selling out the 19,000-seat Saddledome. Lucky me! Here is my strategy: buy the cheapest possible ticket and then scoot over to a better section. The ushers act all put out, but secretly they love the challenge of spotting who paid good money and who just squatted like a hobo in an abandoned apartment. We found a nice empty section and stretched out. Let there be rock!<br />
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The lights went down and we were treated to a 35-minute music film about the year 1969—Woodstock, other bands, The Beatles, San Fransisco, etc. It was a cool movie but to be honest, I found it a little long. I started to wonder: was this the concert? Had Fogerty died a couple of weeks ago and this was the whole show? Luckily the lights dimmed, people started screaming like they were being cattle prodded by security and eventually the 69-year-old Fogerty came out rocking "Born on the Bayou". He looked half his age and sounded great!<br />
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You ever have one of those songs that you hear and it instantly takes you back to a certain time in your life? When I was three years old, I had a ViewFinder, which is a kid's toy (like binoculars) and you can watch a comic book or a movie through the ViewFinder.<br />
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<i>somewhere between cave man drawings and the iPad, </i></div>
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<i>there exists The ViewFinder </i></div>
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I had a DC comics reel and watched Aquaman. Meanwhile, my dad was playing "Bad Moon Rising" (by CCR) on the record player. This is one of my earliest memories. So when Fogerty busted out "Bad Moon Rising", I was in heaven. I was three years old again. (I didn't drool or pee myself, in case you were wondering—it is a legitimate question.) The only way it would have been better was if Aquaman had suddenly shown up on stage and maybe played an instrument. Anything. Keyboards. Tambourine. Even an actor playing Aquaman would have been awesome (I am not picky).<br />
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<i>new base player? Just an idea.</i></div>
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All in all, it was a great concert. He played a ton of hits and the crowd seemed really into it. Well, okay, maybe a little too into it. My only complaint was the guy sitting behind me who whipped out a harmonica during "Lodi" and started playing along. Really? Um... this is not a jam, old guy who smells like warm beer and marijuana. I am pretty sure I know the exact number of people who paid money to hear him play harmonica, and it rhymes with hero. We picked up our coats and moved to another empty section—I couldn't believe security let riff raff like that into a section that we had snuck into. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-5742847254114863942014-11-17T18:10:00.000-07:002015-06-23T12:22:35.133-06:00CGC Comics: How Much Does It Cost From Canada?I wanted to document exactly how much it cost to ship my comics to CGC and get them back (I live in western Canada). This is not a rant about CGC itself, or their grading process, or their holders, or any of that stuff. I did, however, want to document the slabbing process (partly because of my own bad memory) and partly because I had a bit of a difficult time finding out the process and the cost (the REAL cost) when first starting out.<br />
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For those who are new to the whole process of "slabbing" comics: there is tons of information online about CGC (Certified Guaranty Company, found at <a href="http://www.cgccomics.com/">www.cgccomics.com</a>). So this blog is a tracking of the cost for me, a Canadian, shipping my books down to Florida and back to Canada. How much does it really cost?<br />
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<i>One of the comics I did NOT submit to CGC. Sigh. </i> </div>
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(Note: these are 2014 prices—if you are looking at this from the far-reaching future, these might look great in 200 years.)<br />
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<u><b>CGC Membership: $140.14 Cdn</b></u><br />
This was the "premium" $120.00 US per year. What this gets me is 4 free CGC submissions and access to the website to look up CGC census data, access the forums, etc. What I personally cared about was the coupon for the 4 free submissions.<br />
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<u><b>Shipping My 4 Raw Books: $30.00 Cdn</b></u><br />
You can use Canada Post, Fed Ex, Purolator, etc. I chose Canada Post. It cost about $30 to ship the books from my home and native land to sunny Florida. I always wonder why they would have a comic-book-grading company based out of the one place nearby that can get a hurricane, a flood or invaded by the communists. Every time the weatherman says it is windy or rainy there are comic book fans getting ulcers. <br />
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Even if it is a relatively tiny package, you have to ship "Expedited Parcel" which has a tracking number (good) and insurance (very good). You also should ship the 4 books in a box (not an envelope) and stuff it good with paper, bubble wrap and extra sheets of tough cardboard). I didn't have any problems and the shipment arrived right away (around 7 business days).<b><u> </u></b><br />
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<b><u>Grading: Free</u></b><br />
Well, kind of free... remember to include the coupon in the box and the books get graded as part of the premium package that I already paid money for.<br />
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<b><u> </u></b><br />
<b><u>Return Shipping To Canada: $72.78</u></b><br />
Hello! Be on the lookout for the priority shipping back to Canada. Good news is that it gets back to you quickly—the bad news is that it is a bit more expensive than it was to send it down there.<br />
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<u><b>Total Cost for 4 CGC Books: </b><b>$242.92 Cdn</b></u><br />
This works out to about $60 per book (Canadian). So if you are going to get only these 4 books graded, make sure to have the books be either a) super in-demand, b) super high grade, or c) books that you personally really want to get graded. Typically, people will send in 4 "high end" books (like silver-age Marvels, or expensive 10 or 12-cent comics) for this tier.<br />
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Because I had already paid the annual fee, I figured I would give it a shot and submit 30 modern books as well to see if I could average down the costs. My logic: I had thousands of comic books, at least 30 (hopefully) worth CGC-ing from the modern era, and I already had the annual membership, so that gave me a slight discount (and the ability) to submit more books. Same deal, but this time I was submitting 30 modern books.<br />
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<b><u>Shipping 30 Modern Books To Florida: $30.00 Cdn</u></b><br />
Again this was through Canada Post as an Expedited Parcel and it worked out to about 30 dollars. Here's a tip I learned: open up a PayPal account and ship the books through the PayPal account. You can get a small discount (like 5 to 8 per cent). Also, knowing what I know now, I would have submitted the 4 higher-end books along with 30 moderns. Just fill out 2 invoices and send them together all in the same box. Live and learn!<br />
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<u><b>CGC Fees for 30 Modern Books: $660.01 Cdn</b></u><br />
The fees worked out to $22 per book (Canadian) to get them CGC'd. Now this will no doubt change over time (exchange rates, etc) so again this is 2014 prices, with exchange, with a credit card. This apparently includes the return shipping as well.<br />
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I had heard horror stories about CGC taking forever to grade books. The total time spent between shipping the books and getting them back was 62 calendar days (so about two months).<br />
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<u><b>Return Shipping: $22.78 Cdn </b></u><br />
The package was shipped back through Federal Express. It arrived in one huge box that looked like a 28-inch TV screen had arrived. It was heavy (30 books). So exciting! This was the big question mark in the whole process—the return shipping was included in the CGC charge. The only thing I actually paid was the customs "brokerage fees".<br />
<br />
I personally did not get hit with any duty, and I didn't fill out any special forms. CGC indicated on the shipment that the books were being re-imported and I guess the customs guys liked it.<br />
<br />
Fed Ex has to stay in business somehow, so they charge a "brokerage fee" to get your books from the United States through customs into Canada. It's not technically duty... it's more like a "service fee" to ship it. Grumble grumble.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><u>Total Cost for 30 Modern Books: $712.79</u></b><br />
This does not include the membership (because I already paid for it).<br />
<br />
<b><u>Total Cost for 4 Silver Age Books Plus 30 Modern Books: $955.71 Cdn</u></b><br />
Let's call it an even $950 Canadian dollars, after it is all said and done.<br />
<br />
$950 Cdn <br />
34 books total<br />
----------------------<br />
$27.94 Canadian per book to get slabbed<br />
<br />
This isn't meant to persuade anyone to CGC their books or not—simply an accounting for Canadians to figure out what the real fees are if anyone in Canada is interested (and obviously this is a ball park amount since shipping rates could be different depending on where people live and what service they use).<br />
<br />
I think that some people see $18 listed for a modern book on the CGC website and so we factor in maybe $20 for the book when making a purchase. However, shipping (especially to and from Canada) can be very expensive, especially if someone doesn't ship stuff all the time. The actual price to CGC the books was more like 150% of that, at around $28 per book. <br />
<br />
Tips to save money:<br />
<ul>
<li>If you have a bunch of stuff to send in, consider waiting and do it all in one year (rather than send a little over multiple years). It costs a lot of money (like $30) to send one item, four items or twelve items—the postage is not much more for each additional book on a "per book" basis.</li>
<li>Really a take a super-critical look at your books. If there are <i>any</i> defects whatsoever, the grade of the book will fall (and often fall a lot). Remember, each book is going to cost you about $30 (Canadian) so be very critical. ANY fold, crease or tear, or scuff, or anything will bring it down.</li>
<li>Consider opening a PayPal account to create a shipping label—the difference between sending one parcel through PayPal ($25) versus two Canada Post "at the counter" parcels ($60) is definitely worth the time and effort. </li>
</ul>
<br />
Good luck and happy hunting for that great comic!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwT_wS3vzWcyK7SasjzLfIm-4_j71YGZSTxrpRk1WjFWT2a2jLRW-NSESMMsW6pWbCmMe74SvFX9W31hoeXurIWMPe64mR8EyJ6wl1Sdo86FMe_q0kO_st0P-MVavhnB-4jEFsvY9WqBU/s1600/Wolverine+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwT_wS3vzWcyK7SasjzLfIm-4_j71YGZSTxrpRk1WjFWT2a2jLRW-NSESMMsW6pWbCmMe74SvFX9W31hoeXurIWMPe64mR8EyJ6wl1Sdo86FMe_q0kO_st0P-MVavhnB-4jEFsvY9WqBU/s1600/Wolverine+1.JPG" width="240" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>One of my actual comics. Yay! Something came back higher than a 5.0. </i></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-2709880915352464952014-10-28T12:51:00.004-06:002014-10-28T20:58:25.399-06:00LANGUAGE: I KNOW, RIGHT?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">English is a difficult language. I work with people who know multiple
languages—Russian, German, and many others.
One lady even knows Swahili! (Or
so she says… it really only works if there is another person around who can
vouch for it. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">One Swahili-speaking person
= not impressive. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">TWO Swahili-speaking people
= awesome!</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">These multi-lingual people
are running around having multiple conversations and meanwhile I can barely
read and write English. However, me like
words. Me like words long time. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Speaking of language: one annoying phrase is the old “I know,
right?” This in and of itself is no big deal, but when used in a conversation
it makes me want to jump off of a tall building. Quick example: </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me: Hi there. You
look busy! </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Person: I know, right?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me: Yes. Yes I
do. You look busy. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Person: I know, right?
I’m so busy. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me: Are you almost finished the Johnson project? </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Person: I know, right? </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me: No… no I don’t. I
need to know, hence why I’m asking. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Person: I know, right? </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me: Please find a toaster and a bathtub so I can end this. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Okay, so a slight exaggeration for hilarious comedic purposes,
but you get the idea. The other one I
don’t like is when someone says “you’re not kidding!” Again, this does nothing
to add to my life in any meaningful way.
I make a witty observation and people will exclaim, “man! You’re not
kidding.” Well, in fact sometimes I am kidding, but I’m not about to point it
out now. Now I feel all stressed
out. I’m busted. What if they find out at a later time that I
was in fact, kidding? WHAT THEN? Best just to hide in the bushes until they
leave. Problem solved. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There are all sorts of parts of language that we use that
are annoying, but only if you are aware of it.
I will now destroy your life for the next 40 years by bringing up the
word “Um”. Not really a word, um. Before, you might not have even noticed “um”. Now, you will hear it every time you listen
to the radio, you’re your mouth, or hear any other humans speak, ever. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Is “um” really a word?
Sure, you can play it in Scrabble, and you might even place the “Um” on
a triple word score, but that doesn’t make it a real word in my opinion. (The same goes for “Muzjiks”—not cool—I know
that Russian peasants are people, they are real, and they deserve human rights,
but it is annoying when people beat me at Scrabble using weird words.) So, ummmmm, where were we? </span></span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I ask again: is “um” even a real word? Well, um, “um” is considered a “filler” word by
the wordanistas, also known as people who are English professors. They went to school. Braggers!
According to the interwebs, it is typically used to denote a pause when
talking. In other words, “um” translates
into “I’m not finished!” I will also
throw “uh” into this category. Um and Uh
are pretty much the same thing as far as I’m concerned—they both mean, “I am
thinking, so please shut your pie hole until I can get my words out.” On the other hand, “ugh” is totally
different—“ugh” is what most people think when they hear the words “pie hole”. See?
Words are fun!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I’m not a big fan of being super-picky on words. Words, phrases, and what has been commonly
used by the average “layperson” has changed over the past millennium. Imagine sitting in the Globe Theatre back in
the Middle Ages and listening to a Shakespeare play. First of all, I wouldn’t understand any of
it—English was way different back then. Too many thees, and if you throw in a “wherefor
art thou” I am pretty much finished.
Secondly, I would question why I was able to travel back in time only to
sit in a theatre watching a play. Aren’t
there any Hitlers around to murder? No
apple to drop on Newton’s head? Give me
something constructive to do please. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My point is that words and phrases have changed over the
years, so I am not inherently opposed to weird new phrases like “LOL” (Laugh
Out Loud) or “ROTFL” (Rolling On The Floor Laughing)—come to think of it, there
is a lot of laughing going on these days.
Enough with the Ls, everyone. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Now before I start sounding all zen and centered, I do want
to point out that there is one thing that I cannot stand under any circumstances—and
it’s more of a numbers thing than a word thing:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The 0.99 cent sale.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This really irritates me.
The seller means to put 0.99 DOLLARS on a sign, not 0.99 cents. 0.99 cents is almost one whole penny. One big fantasy in my life involves me buying
100 “0.99 cent” items, dropping a dollar at the checkout till and telling the cashier to
keep the change. Dammit that would be so
awesome! They would call the police, and
when the officer showed up, I would calmly explain that the 0.99 means it is
almost one penny. Then I would get
tazed. Then I would soil myself, because
electricity will eventually lead to paralysis.
But THEN, and only then, would I be able to go to court, plead my case
to the judge and jury, and “0.99 cents” would be struck down for all time. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then who would have the last LOL?</span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-87580975814076263982014-09-07T18:44:00.000-06:002014-09-07T18:44:10.705-06:00CAT SITTING - THE GOOD, THE BAD & THE SCARY (Part 2)<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got home from my first stint as a cat sitter, humiliated in my attempt to be the cat whisperer. My two cats at home greeted me with indifference—one thought it smelled food on me but it turns out that I just hadn't showered. False alarm. I slunk onto the couch and replayed the morning over in my mind. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Quick recap: I showed up at the friend's house, the friends' cat freaked out and then the cat ran away. And then I wandered around the friend's house for a half hour, shaking a bag of cat treats. I mean I was wandering <i>around</i> the house. Like outside. I was circling the house like either the world's worst burglar, or maybe one of those super-old people who look for Mr. Pickles, but Mr. Pickles died like 17 years ago and they still think that they punched Hitler in the nose last week. But more importantly than all that... was the cat going to be okay? And more important than even that... would I have to give back any money if the cat never showed up? This is why all cat sitting should have an eight-page contract that is reviewed by a team of notaries. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This had all happened on Sunday. So later that day I texted the friend (who I was thinking was "the client"—as in, "don't get sued by the client"—and I explained that I sort of, um, lost the cat. Apparently this was no great news. T</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">his was expected. </span>The cat apparently just needed to "get away" once in a while, and as such would saunter off into the neighbourhood and do whatever wild, feral cats do. I am guessing activities included chasing mice, sitting on a fence and singing with other cats, and possibly playing the accordion—or maybe I am thinking of a Disney movie. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had trouble sleeping Sunday night, because I kept wondering if the cat was going to come back home. I know what you are thinking—I got up in the middle of the night, got dressed, got in the car, drove the half hour across town and stood outside the house with the ghetto blaster like John Cusack in <i>Say Anything</i>. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDhszVwKQg-ccY0mKqIdnNYhCRHOT2DsRBQZ5FRyWvCV2CGIjTnhBE0kyUNE3j4jgFhNK9STVCTs8uJXb_cmdm4bgWozvszW-9UdHwwwwlv_vXMXjqJQig-X4JA_YpNJqWWqPI1xf1Po/s1600/JohnCusack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDhszVwKQg-ccY0mKqIdnNYhCRHOT2DsRBQZ5FRyWvCV2CGIjTnhBE0kyUNE3j4jgFhNK9STVCTs8uJXb_cmdm4bgWozvszW-9UdHwwwwlv_vXMXjqJQig-X4JA_YpNJqWWqPI1xf1Po/s1600/JohnCusack.jpg" height="182" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <i>"In Your Eyes... Kitty Lies... Kitty come home..."</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>- </i>Peter Gabriel</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> </i><br />Well, big surprise—that didn't happen. I did, however, get up in the middle of the night. Yes, I am that caring. Actually, I just had to take a pee. I drank too much iced tea. It has nothing to do with the story, but I get the feeling that you wanted to know. So, really, shame on you for being so nosy. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Monday: me at work. I was sitting at my desk trying not to think about the crazy cat. I was planning on stopping by after work to put in my contractually-obligated visit, but I also wanted to. Even if it was just to scrape a carcass off the road with a snow shovel, I felt that I owed it that much, after all we had been through together—her hissing, me getting angry and scared... okay so maybe there were memories that just hadn't been made yet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I left at lunch and swung by the house. No sign of the cat. I opened the door and slowly, carefully tiptoed into the house. I know what you are thinking—why tip toe when the cat was not actually in the house. Well, I can say this: if any cat was mean enough to learn how to jimmy open a patio door with a screwdriver, it was this cat. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I peeked out through the patio door and didn't see anything. Well, it was done then. The cat was gone forever. Could I still bill for two visits? I swung open the patio door to water the plants, thus insuring that the client would have to pay me. After all, I drove all the way over here and checked the mail...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Suddenly, from the shadows, a figure lept up onto the fence. Okay, it was noon so there weren't really "shadows", but there was definitely a scary furry animal on the fence. I stood there, paralyzed with either joy, fear or boredom. Get in the house already. The kitty sauntered back into the house, stopped at my feet to take a swipe and a hiss and then jogged inside to poop in the litter box. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Welcome home, creep! I locked the patio door and got the hell out of there. The rest of the week was uneventful—there was some general hissing in my direction and I let her out once during the week, but I knew that the cat would come back. Well, at least I hoped she would. Well, at least I kind of hoped that she would. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So if you need a cat sitter: I have experience dealing with difficult animals, as long as you are okay with me just letting them out into the neighbourhood and hoping that someday they come back. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-84307845677368884212014-08-28T20:35:00.002-06:002014-08-28T20:41:13.502-06:00CAT SITTING—THE GOOD, THE BAD & THE SCARY (Part 1)<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I decided to do a little community service this summer. Now before anyone pictures me picking up garbage on the side of the road wearing an orange jumpsuite, stop! (Too late—you pictured it.) A friend of mine needed a cat sitter and I figured it was some easy money. I like cats. I like cats because they require about as much maintenance as a potted plant. Basically make sure it gets some water, drag it out into the sunlight once in a while, and try not to get too dirty shoveling around in the dirt. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The friend in question had gone away on vacation in the past and another, a DIFFERENT person had cat sat. She had sat the cat. After my friend came back from vacation, we heard horror stories about the cat—basically the cat was a terror or possibly the devil had possessed said cat. I thought this was hilarious; after all, I knew all about cats (I had lived with cats my entire life AND watched LOL cats on the internet). I figured that this so-called "cat sitter" had no idea what they were doing. Why were they hiding in the bedroom, or holding out a broom in a defensive manner? I heard the details and derisively shook my head. Why were they cowering in the bathroom, praying that the "beast" would eventually leave through the open patio doors? Was crying and threatening to phone the police really necessary? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I scoffed and figured that I would be able to earn some easy money as well as help out a desperate family in need. Yes, I am a charitable person, providing my services for money. I am a giver. (And a taker.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The mission was simple: Sunday through Friday—six days of looking after the cat. Easy. I showed up Sunday to an empty house, ready to spend my hour playing with the cat. The family had left the day before. I opened up the door to the house and called for the cat. I reached into my back pack and whipped out my cat toy on a string. I was ready to play with the lonely cat.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Only there was no lonely cat. There was a little furry beast with evil eyes hissing. I was a little surprised—did the beast not know I was on her side? I stooped down to clean out the litter box and heard a low, gutteral growl. Umm... I scooped faster and tied up the bag. Now the hard part—I had to somehow get past the cat in order to get to the patio door, which led to the patio, which led to the garbage can. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I stared down the cat for about thirty seconds, but she wasn't moving. Let me be clear here—this cat is like 18 inches long. I stuck out my bag of cat poop and litter like Captain America's shield and pushed forward. The cat didn't move—well, didn't move backwards, that is. She jumped up in the air like Michael Jordan heading for a slam dunk. This was Nike cat—and it was NOT all about the shoes! (1990s reference for those who are younger than thirty.) This cat arched her back and swiped at the bag of litter. And connected. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The explosion of stinky, urine-soaked cat litter into the living room of the family I was trying to cat sit for was definitely one of the low points of that day. It wasn't the ultimate low point—that would be me yelling and running for the patio door, a trail of sand zig-zagging across the living room and dining room floor. I opened the patio door and threw the bag outside, hoping I would not hit a random neighbour in the face. It was a chance I was willing to take. I prayed that if the authorities found my half-eaten carcass next weekend, they would be able to identify me by my dental work—or come to think of it in hindsight, my car sitting in their driveway (with my license plate). Okay, so I didn't really think that one through. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The devil cat screamed past me and bolted outside. I took a deep breath and peered out across the yard. She was sitting on the fence—literally, not figuratively—she definitely did NOT want to come back inside, so she was sitting on an actual fence. I shut the patio door and she turned and ran away. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I put my cat toy back in the back pack—I wasn't going to be needing that anymore. I wondered about offering a partial refund if the cat never showed up again. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">TO BE CONTINUED... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-17591596061386278272014-06-30T11:57:00.002-06:002014-06-30T11:59:15.216-06:00MIKE TYSON: Undisputed Truth (Book Review)<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What does it mean to be a fan of Mike Tyson? Growing up in the 1980s, I thought Mike Tyson was the greatest fighter ever—being able to knock out another professional fighter in 8 seconds sounded like a great skill to have in junior high school. The book is called "Mike Tyson: <a href="http://www.amazon.ca/Undisputed-Truth-Mike-Tyson/dp/0399161287" target="_blank">Undisputed Truth</a>).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After having won the heavyweight championship of the world at age 20, Tyson was synonymous with power and terrifying behavior in the ring. Unfortunately, the wheels of his life fell off the rails, and he was convicted of rape and served some prison time. Unfortunate for him—but great reading for the rest of us. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you like "the dirt" books—you know, where someone achieves fame and fortune and then bites off a piece of someone's ear and spends 300 million dollars and has nothing to show for it—then this book is for you. It is a highly-entertaining romp through Tyson's childhood (filled with criminal behavior), his fanatical dedication to training and then the fall off the wagon including some pretty heavy drug use and indiscriminate sex. A highly entertaining read! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He also discusses the "ear biting" incident (where Tyson bit off a piece of Evander Holyfield's ear during a boxing match). I always found it funny that Holyfield could take punches to the face no problem, but someone biting his ear off was suddenly "a big deal". Don't teenage girls get their ears pierced? Isn't that the same thing? This book does not answer those questions, but they do explore Tyson's view of "what was he thinking" during these and many other ridiculous incidents in his life. (He once misplaced a duffel bag with a million dollars cash in it—hilarious!)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Normally I don't like autobiographies, primarily because the protagonist is always telling the story from their point of view. Yes, I was arrested. Yes, I got that girl pregnant. But hear my side of the story! Tyson does not try to sugar-coat the stories—when he screws up, he says so and I found that refreshing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />Overall, if you are a fan of Mike Tyson, boxing, tell-all books, or even the old 1980s Punch Out! video game, then you will enjoy this book. </span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-89946410036717684602014-06-18T10:50:00.001-06:002014-06-20T06:27:21.332-06:00Karl's European Vacation: The One Hour FlightI left Berlin tired and happy. I had the choice of a 7 hour train ride, or a one hour flight. Obviously I chose the one hour flight. After all, I am in a hurry to get somewhere and relax. Hurry up already! The problem with the one hour flight is that it still takes six hours. Bus stop, bus, airport, pre-check in, check in, post check in, security, stop to celebrate your birthday because it is taking so long, and finally the flight. But we aren't done yet-- you still have to actually get to the apartment at the new destination. <div><br></div><div>It was rough right out of the gate. I researched exactly how to get to the airport. I had my Google Maps. I was ready. About 2 minutes in, I realized this was going to be a long day. For some reason, the streets in ancient Berlin are made of uneven cobblestones and paving stones. So my suitcase on wheels kept falling over like Muhammed Ali was punching it in the face. Wobble, wobble, and suitcase is down. Suitcase is down! (Howard Cosell reference for anyone over forty.)</div><div><br></div><div>I finally lugged/carried/rolled/dragged my life in a box to the bus station. Google Maps said it was the corner of two streets-- but there are four corners at an intersection, and each intersection had a bus stop. Come on man! I could literally still see my apartment and I was already fumblin' and stumblin'.</div><div><br></div><div>I was looking for bus 128 Tegel Airport. Got it. 128. 128. I finally found 128... But it said 128 Nordbahnoff. Zuh? Why is Google Maps lying about this one detail? Why would it go through life so beloved and then choose to dick me around on this? I was confused and quite frankly, a little hurt. Google Maps, you son of a bitch.</div><div><br></div><div>128 was rolling up. Great, we are off to the airport--or so I thought. A nice German guy wearing a McDonald's uniform suddenly emerged from the shadows. (Or he was also waiting for the bus. I wasn't paying attention). He asked me where I was headed. I said "airport". He pointed across the street. Not this 128. I needed... The OTHER 128! Thank you, kindness of strangers! Especially ones that smell like freedom fries and cigarrettes. I found the other bus and was at the airport in no time.</div><div><br></div><div>The flight itself was non eventful, and suddenly I was in Frankfurt. I needed to get to my new apartment, and quickly too; the guy I was renting it from was waiting at the place to let me in. It was 10:00 pm and I was hoofing it from the airport terminal to the train into the city. I was completely lost. I spotted an info kiosk (manned by a human) in the terminal. Yes! Okay, time to turn on the charm. I patiently waited as the info guy watched the World Cup Soccer game. I could hear the crowd cheering and his eyes were fixed on a tiny TV above my head. I stood there for a couple of minutes, literally staring at him 2 feet away. Was I invisible? Was this a Bruce Willis thing? Were we "Sixth Sensing" it? He picked up the phone and started talking. Screw this. Can info kiosk employees be tenured? I guess they are in Germany. I ran over to a map on the wall and figured it out. Info kiosk guy was no help-- he put the weiner in Frankfurt. (Hot dog SLAM.)</div><div><br></div><div>You know that scene in the movies when the guy rolls up to the train, and the doors close in his face? And then there is sad music as the girl on the train cries and the train speeds off? Well, that really happens, except it was just me and my broken down suitcase missing the train by literally 3 seconds. Huff, puff, slam, chugga chugga. Wah.</div><div><br></div><div>I spent the 30 minutes waiting for the next rain wisely--mostly cursing and wandering around. A half hour later I got on the train and headed into Frankfurt. Now I was really stressed-- this poor guy was waiting for me at the apartment and he probably had to work the next day! I hiked over to the apartment and at 11:45 pm started apologizing. He said "is no big deal". Is no big deal? It was almost midnight on a weekday! I apologized profusely that I kept him up and he had to travel all this way. I felt awful.</div><div><br></div><div>Then he explained that he was a student and he didn't have anywhere to be tomorrow. Well, yeah, okay... but he still had to travel all the way over to the apartment! "Is no big deal," he said. "I live next door". Yes, his apartment is 4 feet down the hall. Mellow German guy then threw me some keys and let me settle in. Welcome to the big city!</div><div><br></div><div>So remember, travelling sometimes can be a pain, but sometimes is "no big deal".</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3J8RFkE_xx6yR5TRi6BBVzGi_I7r1jq48Q4Hze-iIHuMK62TtGJo3k8wCT_gyhziBLt-PfQFvu1wvXwPfNUVVc2Q4KxtO45rKEZUZDArKdnMOtfuwCc-QsUwJxLOdHszoreCvdxMiy_0/s640/blogger-image--1818525788.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3J8RFkE_xx6yR5TRi6BBVzGi_I7r1jq48Q4Hze-iIHuMK62TtGJo3k8wCT_gyhziBLt-PfQFvu1wvXwPfNUVVc2Q4KxtO45rKEZUZDArKdnMOtfuwCc-QsUwJxLOdHszoreCvdxMiy_0/s640/blogger-image--1818525788.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-53283107515855026362014-06-14T07:18:00.001-06:002014-06-14T08:16:34.109-06:00Karl's European Vacation: Sachsenhausen Concentration CampThere is a weird disconnect when I visit places like The Tower of London or a medieval dungeon that is centuries old. People wander around and talk about creepy things--but they usually do so with an indifference. After all, no one we know today was around back when King Henry The VIII was running the show.<div><br></div><div>It's not the same feeling visiting <b>Sachsenhausen</b> <b>Memorial</b>, located in the northern community of Oranienburg. The people here were relatives and neighbours of people still around right now. (The town of Oranienburg is literally a 5 minute walk away, and was here during World War II). The Nazis built this central camp just north of the capital city, and today it is a huge museum dedicated to those who were imprisoned, tortured, and executed here.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwl2bTS8mdVkEpLWlakBaf6aulm_qhClOiGKsswXu4h5XT_nBQS_Gr26PDECfZhPjFWtRz-aUPw-dCSLTOTfxn_TItNY-4n7FrmWVK0TQNW9bs89vS69izUXABRQSj96WxqKFHgSophA/s640/blogger-image-740931499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwl2bTS8mdVkEpLWlakBaf6aulm_qhClOiGKsswXu4h5XT_nBQS_Gr26PDECfZhPjFWtRz-aUPw-dCSLTOTfxn_TItNY-4n7FrmWVK0TQNW9bs89vS69izUXABRQSj96WxqKFHgSophA/s640/blogger-image-740931499.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I travelled on the train S1 to Oranienburg) and from central Berlin it is a quiet, 30-minute train ride. If you are interested in avoiding crowds, go on a Saturday and go early in the morning (8:30 am). There was virtually no one there until around 11:00 am--people sleeping in on the weekend means more solitude to soak in the atmosphere.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcqYTWUmPTrW5Q6OMt4mqXvhHvzwmV1KSA4Mmg2_zJ8MdtxjsKJtIXg2WbfW-kVdtjEwfWUaYgsgMMiU2Y9QIJktM9GippR0f_4TrqF34dNtpek_1v6hO4MaGaix1ZgUSgxYNulaAVEEw/s640/blogger-image--1695721934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcqYTWUmPTrW5Q6OMt4mqXvhHvzwmV1KSA4Mmg2_zJ8MdtxjsKJtIXg2WbfW-kVdtjEwfWUaYgsgMMiU2Y9QIJktM9GippR0f_4TrqF34dNtpek_1v6hO4MaGaix1ZgUSgxYNulaAVEEw/s640/blogger-image--1695721934.jpg"></a></div><br></div>It is strange to see World War II from the losing perspective--the site has fallen into disrepair over the years, as obviously Germany had other priorities in the 1950s and beyond (like rebuilding their country). As a result, pieces of the camp have completely rotted away. There are markers, plaques and loads of reading to see, as well as speeches and interviews to listen to.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwdkt2sSQoFIXzl8_LzD7TF08yRC4qmf5LOf-20y7_Jr-kNUdwgyIeWml5QPD9yLM_Fuizs0246GsDsOBN9jp5CfY6M7pntlGN6bDYwkNFFD-5cqMgOOfaOFqrzilI8MhMlH0S3_9SPk/s640/blogger-image-1239640704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwdkt2sSQoFIXzl8_LzD7TF08yRC4qmf5LOf-20y7_Jr-kNUdwgyIeWml5QPD9yLM_Fuizs0246GsDsOBN9jp5CfY6M7pntlGN6bDYwkNFFD-5cqMgOOfaOFqrzilI8MhMlH0S3_9SPk/s640/blogger-image-1239640704.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>After World War II, the camp was used by the Soviets until 1950, and so mass killings and forced labour continued. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFR5JBlVErK6H-Fx7kX18ZHVh4QglWL77HaNdF5SLpu6c3bqC6Uc09P22AJSfXA3HGSbYOYg0SiTi03Pi58c1R6Zhy2SXHZKiV88S7D25D3HtJqcvpdtViRPedvEB6HQi8iUmaNqX_KEc/s640/blogger-image-894142682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFR5JBlVErK6H-Fx7kX18ZHVh4QglWL77HaNdF5SLpu6c3bqC6Uc09P22AJSfXA3HGSbYOYg0SiTi03Pi58c1R6Zhy2SXHZKiV88S7D25D3HtJqcvpdtViRPedvEB6HQi8iUmaNqX_KEc/s640/blogger-image-894142682.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>From a "hands on" perspective, it was fascinating to walk the grounds, touch the walls, sit in the barracks and visit the crematorium (and the ruins of the gas chambers). A regular museum can be interesting, but it is visceral to enter the infirmary, walk down into the cellar, feel the day turn from warm to cool, and to smell the dank, rusty rooms.</div><div><br></div><div>There are multiple buildings here (like more modern museums built specifically to house artifacts and show movie footage. There are many different rooms and buildings that showcase personal artifacts and documents. Not every historical building is available to wander through, but many are open or are in the process of being restored. Wandering around and exploring is encouraged--there are lots of multiple ways to get somewhere, and often a quick diversion leads to a whole different discovery. Despite this being one of the Nazi's smaller concentration camps, it is still massive-- walking it takes at least three hours, and there are lots of places (like benches) to just sit, take a moment and think. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> I highly recommend this half-day trip from Berlin if you are looking to see, hear, smell and feel a piece of modern history.</span></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglr2ZLKFmloyDJiYV2Fgv1Sn8RJ4gfKiBCiF7zMGx4sfIz41yeVTfI8TfibdKPRdAnQ2dEBaXtcRbT6lhtfAoq7if0pLpxX9QYxDgk7vi2DBxILCeR2ULrO9EwzB80UHyRAbjnSGeff0/s640/blogger-image--739869937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglr2ZLKFmloyDJiYV2Fgv1Sn8RJ4gfKiBCiF7zMGx4sfIz41yeVTfI8TfibdKPRdAnQ2dEBaXtcRbT6lhtfAoq7if0pLpxX9QYxDgk7vi2DBxILCeR2ULrO9EwzB80UHyRAbjnSGeff0/s640/blogger-image--739869937.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Tip: bring some rain gear and/or sunblock-- it went from sunny to torrential downpour to scorching hot and sunny all within 45 minutes. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTL4SfjKSAkv2idENL9FgCvBRBlSjIrm5Q1ulyfjDYLAMUc9rg8Eod8TUNiOsrHDYszFPwtUxUicMgtObaVF8SBkj_km895moSS7H4sgtQ9Jj52RjEoIuUMxSW9oJVnuV3JGAf9derx38/s640/blogger-image-246707202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTL4SfjKSAkv2idENL9FgCvBRBlSjIrm5Q1ulyfjDYLAMUc9rg8Eod8TUNiOsrHDYszFPwtUxUicMgtObaVF8SBkj_km895moSS7H4sgtQ9Jj52RjEoIuUMxSW9oJVnuV3JGAf9derx38/s640/blogger-image-246707202.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3804597836360908174.post-59180581951311967562014-06-13T00:00:00.001-06:002014-06-13T01:11:50.560-06:00Karl's European Vacation: Biking BerlinI left soggy Amsterdam and arrived in blazing-hot Berlin. It had reached 37 degrees the day before, so people were excited it was only 32 celsius. The apartment I rented has a bicycle included, and I had a 10:00 am appointment the next day in downtown East Berlin with a hop on hop off bus.<div><br></div><div>Biking in Berlin is easy-- the trick is to say goodbye to your loved ones before you leave, so that you have no regrets. I merged into rush hour traffic heading into downtown. Helmets? People here didn't wear helmets when the Soviets invaded with tanks in 1945, so they aren't going to worry about helmets just because a dump truck is 18 inches from you on a cobblestone road.</div><div><br></div><div>There are lots of bikers in Berlin. Everything was going fine--I was following a young lady who was all dressed up for work. There are bike lanes (actual dedicted pieces of sidewalk just for bikes) so we were cruising along pretty good. The problem was, she was in too good of shape. I couldn't keep up. Then the bike lane ended. So suddenly I am "in traffic". Then I got squeezed inbetween a delivery truck and some parked vehicles. Then, in an almost comedic absurdidy, but I swear is true, someone whipped open one of the driver's-side doors right in front of me. Okay, okay, I tapped out. I slammed on the brake, dismounted the bicycle and pulled it up onto the sidewalk. In order to cope with the stares from the locals, who were wondering how I was still alive, I played it cool. I <i>meant</i> to go up here and look at the fruit market. I suddenly was very interested in nectarines. Nothing more to see here, people! What's next, two people carrying a giant pane of glass? Is anyone delivering a piano to the third floor of an apartment building using distracted rope pullers? When things got too busy, I just dismounted, walked my bike across the street and watched with respect at the 12 year old kid zipping along on his six speed. Get to school, you crazy kid!</div><div><br></div><div>The middle of East Berlin has this giant, 1200 foot space-needle that looks very 1960s and Soviet-ish. It's very cool. My destination was right next to the needle, so I took a less busy sidestreet and chugged along. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS689kE-u8AHxmmKl3vgvQGPvk8g5-AvQqqt3fm-Xu9DzjPc8d5vN5Q0-pttOcHqyyvX363i3V7Opdexeyf4JQCaQk9QgpCnovLWAim6RA27eHtIcqSgrZIvNBoap49LAdNJrZ3aCYGCE/s640/blogger-image--919279012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS689kE-u8AHxmmKl3vgvQGPvk8g5-AvQqqt3fm-Xu9DzjPc8d5vN5Q0-pttOcHqyyvX363i3V7Opdexeyf4JQCaQk9QgpCnovLWAim6RA27eHtIcqSgrZIvNBoap49LAdNJrZ3aCYGCE/s640/blogger-image--919279012.jpg"></a></div><i>Head</i> <i>for</i> <i>that</i> <i>thing</i>.</div><div><br></div><div>I highly reccommend the hop on hop off tour bus if you want to see a lot of something in a short time, or to get oriented with any large city. San Fransisco, Los Angeles, London, Paris-- they all have this option and you just pay a one-time fee and then you can visit all the touristy stuff. The ones in Berlin ran pretty well (not a long wait, and lots of seating). They also have defferent languages (lots of them) so you can listen to 80s muzac AND a person with a British accent describe the sights.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com