Hmm…. I think I can share this crazy little Bat-story now

If you’ve been reading my blog for awhile, or grew up with me as a friend or member of my family…  you would know I once had a big thing for Batman.

Lots of kids did, and still do.  Boys & girls both.  There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.  Well… usually nothing.

Wayyy back in the mid-1960s, when we still lived in town, there was one year when I walked home alone from school.  When I was in 2nd grade at North Ward Elementary, my older brother went to South and our younger sister went to kindergarten at East Franklin. 

I would go thru Waynesburg College Park on my way home (to stare at the college girls and hippies) then down High Street, turn right at the police station on Morgan to head down towards Greene and our town’s volunteer fire station.

Once, a friend of my mom’s drove past and saw me skipping down Morgan past the “Wagon Wheel”, a pretty shady saloon.  When I got home, Mom had a fit.  She let me know in no uncertain terms she didn’t want me walking that way home again.  Okay, no problem.

(By the way, that was a pretty long walk from North Ward to our house on Cumberland; I can’t imagine second graders walking home alone from school that far now…  I don’t even think it’s legal!)

Anyway, one day in school some of us were told we’d won ribbons for our submissions at the annual Bowlby Library Art Show.  We were sent there to collect them and our artwork, and go straight home.  I can remember plain as day what mine was; a (pretty large) watercolor rendition of ‘The Marriage of Batman & Batgirl’. 

On my way home, carrying that painting in front of me like a tray, two college guys came over to see what I was walking with.  When I showed it to them, one of them joked he recently met a girl who looked just like the one in my painting at the Wagon Wheel. 

Wha wha wha….??  I remember this all too well, because I almost had a 7 year old heart attack.

Now you know kids at that age are crazier than they let on.  When the live action show ‘Batman’ first aired on tv, I asked my dad if he wondered if Batman & Robin were real, and he told me I knew better than to ask. 

Well, I couildn’t help but wonder myself; they certainly looked real enough on tv. 

So when I heard about this supposed Batgirl sighting at the Wagon Wheel, I knew I had to see for myself.  I began walking home past that rickety saloon again, but would linger in front for awhile, and pretend I dropped or lost something or had to tie my shoe. 

Now it’s called Waynesburg Hotel & Lounge, but 50 years ago this decrepit place was the Wagon Wheel.  Trust me, it looked even worse then

And then one night I had a dream that I was in front of the Wagon Wheel, and a black limousine pulled up and a woman in a skin-tight costume got out; at first I thought she was Batgirl but it was Catwoman. 

She saw me watching and yelled “Grab that kid!”  

I woke up petrified with fright that one day I’d be punished for not listening to my mom and get kidnapped by some lady who thought she was Catwoman.  I never walked past the Wagon Wheel saloon again. 

(And the following year, my sister Shawn went to North Ward Elementary with me so I knew my Batgirl spotting days were over.)

I thought I’d share this cuckoo memory, because I was just watching yet another news story about those Qanon believers in disarray.  They really thought that once Joe Biden stood to take his oath as President, he and Kamala would be rushed, possibly executed, and their glorious leader Donald Trump would come out of the shadows to reclaim his rightful place as President again.  

They are FINALLY accepting the fact they might’ve been duped.

I know just how those Qanon feel, because I never saw Batgirl (in her costume or regular street clothes) come out of the Wagon Wheel Saloon either.

Of course, I was seven years old when that crazy logic was rolling around in my head.  What’s their excuse?

 

My 400th post! I feel like I should say some special words… but what?

I am suddenly at a loss for words.  I’m reminded of a Saturday night in November 2006, I was rambling on about family, the office & my love life—rather, the lack of one—to a couple of online friends who seemed to be enjoying it, when one (Ross) suggested I start a personal blog.  What in the world could someone like me possibly write about?

And now here I am on my 400th post and feeling that same way again. 

I remember when I did get started, I was going to try and leave news & politics out of things.  I didn’t want to look back in 10 years and see 50 posts of growls at Dick Cheney… Dick who?  Exactly!

I toyed with the idea of writing a humor blog, maybe I could become the next Garrison Keillor or Erma Bombeck.  Boo on that, I just wanted to be Doug Morris.

And now here I am, 14 years and 400 posts later, and to be honest I’m surprised it’s not a lot more.  Over the years there’s probably been fifty posts I started and didn’t finish, and some I DID finish but deleted before I talked myself into posting them.  Still, 400 is nothing to sneeze at. 

Gesundheit. 

So what do I write this 400th post about?  I was going to try & keep things lighthearted, then a friend sent me a recent NPR article where the Pennsylvania Supreme Court ruled against President Trump’s lawsuit to remove our states ballot dropoff boxes.  Oh and they’re also extending the deadline for mail-in ballots to be counted as the President of the United States and his Postmaster Crony DeJoy have CRIPPLED THE US MAIL.

Y’know, Trump and his merry band of traitors have done more damage to this country than Julius & Ethel Rosenberg—and those two got the electric chair!  (I would say we’re a more civilized people now, but one afternoon of Trump’s tweets will prove me wrong everytime.) 

Where was I?  Oh that’s right, 400th post!

That number has a special meaning to me, you know.  Waaaay back in the summer of 1970, when my family moved to the country, Dad announced that the three oldest—my brother Duke, me & our sister Shawn would begin getting weekly allowances.  (Duke would get $1.50, I’d get $1.00, Shawn 75 cents.)  

It was almost too good to be true, but Dad meant what he said and in June 1970 I began my comic book collecting in earnest.   The very first issue in said collection was Detective Comics No.400, hot off the newsstand.  It had a Neal Adams cover and was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.

50 years and a thousand Batman comics later, and Detective #400 is STILL one of the best Batman covers ever printed

I’ve always found it curious that comics were priced at 10 cents throughout the 1930s, 40s, 50s… after 25 years, they jumped a total of 2 cents in the 1960s.  In all that time!

When I began collecting in 1970, they were 15 cents.  By 1985 they were 5 times that and I knew it was time to give ‘em up. 

(What people spend on them today… insane.  Let’s just say they’re no longer bought or even marketed towards kids.)

Oh shoot, I’m sorry.  How did I get on this subject?   400, 400…

Well, earlier this week I met with my therapist for the 400th time since my little painkiller incident on July 4.  (Alright, it hasn’t been 400 visits but it’s up there.)  Dr.G asked if I’ve been continuing my “social outreach” efforts, and I said yes and told him about the 4 residents here I’ve assisted in registering for the general election. 

(So far, 2 of them have gotten their cards!)

Dr. G said that was great, and I said oh wait—I haven’t told you about Betty, the 70 year old Trump supporter who delights in questioning my manhood everytime she sees me.  I told him I was thisclose to setting her apartment door on fire.  He said “For her barbs regarding your masculinity?”   I said “Yes of course—but she is a Trumper, so that will make it right.”

Dr. G chuckled and said “Well Doug I think it’s wonderful how politics has gotten you so engaged with people and current events.”  Excuse me, did the man not just hear me say I wanted to set someone’s door on fire?

(I’m just kidding, you know!)

When I casually asked which way he was leaning in the upcoming election, he only laughed and shook his head.  Fine Doc, it’s your business; but if I find out you’re one of them, I’ll have to introduce you to my friend Danielle.  She doesn’t like Trumpers either, and is a LOT more outspoken than myself!

You’re not a toy Kal-El, you’re a statue—but you’ll fit in with the rest of them

A couple nights ago while flipping thru the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly, I came across a blurb about Supergirl coming to television this fall. Wait, really? I jumped on the ol’ internet to see if I could find anything more, and yowza! The good folks at CBS have committed to a full series.

That wasn’t good enough though, I needed to know more—so I began searching through some comic & sci-fi message boards (I once frequented) for anything super-related, and that’s when I stumbled upon this discussion:

• Does anyone know where I can get the Superman statue ‘Departure from Krypton’? It was issued around 15 years ago and features Jor-El and Lara preparing to send baby Kal-El to Earth.
• Dude that one’s pretty rare. Plenty of other Superman statues though!
• There’s one on Ebay right now for $600 MIB
• A guy in Italy has one for 350.00 but without the box.
• I don’t want it without the box.

I googled his statue, and right away thought I remember buying something similar to this many years ago… I then spent 15 minutes tearing my closets apart looking for it, but all I came up with was a Star Trek model kit I’d bought back in 2002 and never put together and a classic Batmobile that’s been sitting on my top shelf for the last 10 years. Still, I know I had a couple nerd-toys from some years back, packed away in my storage locker in the basement.

I hopped down there, but aside from a couple bags of Christmas decorations, old textbooks & a very dusty suitcase, everything else was in a dozen or so taped cardboard boxes. With no recollection of their contents, I had no choice but to bring those cartons upstairs for a better look.

• Trendmasters Jupiter 2 spaceship from ‘Lost in Space’ (with lights & sound)
• Spindrift spaceship model kit from ‘Land of the Giants’
• Captain Kirk 9” resin figure model kit
• Jupiter 2 model kit from the 1998 movie ‘Lost in Space’
• Medicom Rocketeer V2.0
• Superman ‘Departure from Krypton’ cold-cast porcelain statue
• “Classic” Jupiter 2 model kit from the 1960s tv show ‘Lost in Space’
• ELITE 1966 Batmobile from Hot Wheels
• Scorpion spaceship model kit from ‘Star Trek Nemesis’
• Batmobile model kit from Johnny Lightning

First of all, I couldn’t believe I owned half these damn toys; it’s been years since I bought any of this stuff.  Intrigued that I had that “quite rare” Superman statue after all (and MIB—mint in box), I thought I’d look up the rest of these items on Ebay & see if they’re worth anything too.

It turns out they’re all listed on Ebay, most of them for unremarkable prices and pretty much what I paid for them “back in the day”—give or take a little more. But along with that pricey Superman statue, I was surprised to see the asking amounts on these 3 items (that I own mint):


This Trendmaster Jupiter 2 from the mid-1990s is considered a rare item, and is listed from $400-$600.00; one guy is selling a used one for $525.00. I got mine for $40.00 in 1995

A Limited-Edition Medicom Rocketeer from Japan, Version 2.0 sells from $438-$575.00. Version 1 sits in my bedroom on my bookcase; I’ve got Version 2 still mint in box!

Hot Wheels issued a Limited-Edition 1:18 Batmobile based on the tv show some years back—I bought mine for around $40.00, they now sell from $150.00-200.00. I really want to open this bad boy up!



Okay, so now what—do I wrap these treasures back up and pack ‘em away again? Declare myself too old for these nerdy toys and list them on Ebay? Or do I say ‘to hell with everything’ and start ripping open some fifteen year old goodies?

And one more thing; as I was sitting here, looking at this pile of gold, it hit me—I ALSO OWN LIMITED EDITION PLANET OF THE APES FIGURES, so where are they?!  My teepee is only so big, they’ve gotta be here somewhere

It should come as no surprise (to myself at least)—it’s the curse of the Burts again

I hate the WORD “asshole”.  So to call someone an asshole… it’s not a small thing, no pun intended.  But the other night after watching the news, I said aloud (to an empty room) “geez what an asshole!” when it suddenly hit me—it’s the curse of the Burts again.

Y’see, this all began in the summer of 1979.  I’d just graduated from high school, had a big falling out with my dad and decided to find a place of my own—well, with my best friend Dan.  But I only had a part-time job as a busboy/dishwasher at the Pancake House Restaurant, so I needed something else.  I found a new job quickly enough, at Shop n’ Save—with daytime hours too.  I thought I was all set.

On my first day, the store’s assistant manager (a chubby man named Steve) said “We’re going to start you out in the dairy aisle, you’ll be working with Burt—he’s the one who runs things over there.”  I was taken back to the stockroom and introduced to this tall, skinny man in his early thirties, who looked me up and down before shaking his head and saying “alright, c’mon… we don’t have all day.”   I followed him out to the milk, where there was a metal dolly and stack of 4 red milk crates waiting.  Burt reached into the top one, lifted out two gallon jugs of milk.  He says “You reach in with both hands—pull out 2 jugs—put ‘em on the shelf.  Reach in—both hands—on the shelf.  Questions?  Get started.” He wheeled the dolly back into the stockroom and I began filling the dairy case with milk. 

It’s around this time that Steve the manager comes around the corner, sees what I’m doing and says “Stop, stop!  That’s not the way to do it!” I froze in place.  Steve says “Look at the dates!  You have to pull all the old dates to the front, and slide the new milk to the back.  You do it whenever you restock, especially the perishables!” I apologized and began scooting all the new jugs to the rear.

I was about halfway through when Burt returned with his dolly and another stack of filled milk crates.  He says “Hey Dorothy, whaddya think you’re doing!”   I stammered “uh—uh—Steve said I—” and Burt mocked me: “UH—UH—I—I!”  I didn’t know what to say.  But apparently, someone else did—Helen, a long-time employee who was in the next aisle overheard and told Steve.  Several minutes later, I’m informed there’s a change of plans & I’ll be working in the produce dept instead.  As I headed over, Burt stopped me and said “I don’t want to see you in my aisle again, you hear me Dorothy?”   LOUD AND CLEAR, ASSHOLE.

The curse of the Burts struck again 15 years later, in 1995.   As a lifelong Bat-fanatic, I was excited to hear that Burt Ward, who played Robin the Boy Wonder on the awesomely campy tv show ‘Batman’, had written a book on his years on the ‘60s show, and what went on behind the scenes.  Holy tell-all, Batman!

I ordered a copy well in advance, and when they called to tell me it was in, I ran over there like Batman to Commissioner Gordon’s office.  My excitement turned to dismay however, when I saw the cover.  Why was someone unzipping Robin’s trunks?  Batman was as wholesome as apple pie, this was a family show!

Not according to Burt; the book wasn’t so much a behind-the-scenes look at Batman as it was a neverending series of Robin’s sexcapades when the cameras weren’t rolling.  Waitaminute, wasn’t Burt married when he was hired for the show?  Well, that’s showbiz… and wasn’t he a new dad at the time too?  Again, that’s between him and his conscience, keep reading.  Then we get to the chapter about his manhood, more specifically, the size of it.  Burt, c’mon—a chapter?  Well, yes because he wanted us to know how his ‘endowment’ caused a lot of problems during filming, he was so blessed.  The poor guy had to contend with various bindings and restraints, “unlike Adam (West) who wasn’t nearly as well equipped”.  What the—!!  It’s one thing to put your privates on a pedestal but to stomp on Batman’s while doing it?  Burt you asshole!  There’s nothing more to say.

Finally, a couple nights ago on the news, I watched Burt Reynolds being honored by a bunch of Floridans.  I felt real sympathy for the man as he hobbled to the stage, he’s 80 years old now, a gaunt reminder of his former Playgirl self.  As Burt gave his thanks, he decided to give a shout-out to the recently deceased Leonard Nimoy, and claimed they were close friends, and Leonard was one of the kindest gentleman he ever knew.  Good stuff, I felt a sniffle coming on.  Then he added “and we’ll miss him a helluva lot more than the other one!”  

It raised a lot of eyebrows as everyone knew he was talking about Nimoy’s former co-star and friend William Shatner.  But as I sat here, wondering why he would say such a cruddy thing for all the world to hear, it hit me—it’s the curse of the Burts again.  He’s just another asshole.

The secret of Batman’s Utility Belt—revealed at last!

One of the reasons I’ve been holding off on ‘cutting the cable’ is a weekly show on the Travel Channel called ‘The Toy Hunter’.  This dude (Jordan Hembrough) travels back & forth across the country in search of vintage toys—for upcoming comic-cons, celebrity collectors or himself.

Last week he was in London looking for American toys (of all places) and came across something that made me sit up and take notice: a 1967 ‘Batman Utility Belt’ made by Ideal.  Jordan’s eyes bugged out as he exclaimed “Do you know how rare this is??”  

He wound up paying a couple thousand dollars for it & then MY eyes popped—because once upon a time, I owned one myself.  And not only that, seeing this again after all these years finally solved a decades long mystery in my own family!

 

The 1967 Batman Utility Belt by Ideal Toys; a lot of Bat-belts have come & gone since then, but this was the original!

This all started a lifetime ago, October 31, 1967.  It was Halloween, and my sixth birthday.  That’s my baby brother Steve’s crib in the corner, our brother Duke in the closet, and me looking wearily into Mom’s camera.  Batman watches over all.

My thoughtful parents (knowing what a Bat-freak I was) killed two bats with one stone—they got me a Batman costume for Halloween, but added a pair of groovy ‘Batman Boot Slippers’ and the ultimate accessory to make my costume complete:  BATMANS UTILITY BELT.

This awesome contraption came with two ‘dart bombs’, a batrope with grappling hook, a Batarang, mini Bat-Light, a pair of Bat-cuffs and dartgun

When my know-it-all brother saw it, he said “this is all wrong, Batman doesn’t kill!  He’d never carry a gun!”  I went ballistic:  “IT DOESN’T SHOOT BULLETS, it’s for sending emergency messages or dispersing gas bombs!!” 

After teaching my brother that crime doesn’t pay, a stern looking caped crusader stands guard over his birthday cake…

And finally, another with Duke, Shawn, myself & Dad with our baby brother Steve; he was a little over 1 1/2 years old and responsible for this age old mystery

A week or so after my birthday, I came home from school & rushed upstairs to get into my Bat-gear; as I picked up my utility belt, I saw the grappling hook lying on the floor.  Wait, what happened to the official bat-rope it was attached to?   I ran downstairs and told Mom, and we searched up & down the house.  It was gone.

Later, when my mom went to change my brother Steve’s diaper, we came upon a grisly sight and I’ll never forget it:  MY BAT ROPE WAS IN HIS SOILED DIAPER, COILED IN HIS POOP. 

Now with any other kid, you’d think “well, they probably jammed it down in there” but not with Steve.  At the time, he had this disturbing habit of eating string.  No fooling, remember when you bought lunchmeat or chops at the meat counter, and they’d wrap it up in orange paper & string?  We were always instructed to bury that twine in the garbage before Steve could get his hands on it, but sure enough the next day it’d turn up in his poop.  

You couldn’t leave a YO-YO sitting out, he’d eat the string right off it.

So when we saw that bat-rope in Steve’s diaper, Mom panicked & said they had to take Steve to the hospital—but Dad assured her the boy was fine, and couldn’t have eaten it.  Mom told me how sorry she was, and promised to bleach it until it was white again, but I would have NO part of it.  

As time went by, we would sometimes laugh about that poopy batrope and wondered if Steve had eaten it after all.  Mom would ask me if I remembered how heavy or long it was.  As I never got to play with the damn thing, I couldn’t.

That is, until the other night when I saw ‘Toy Hunter’ and my Utility Belt again for the first time in over 45 years—that rope was LONG, and heavy-duty (and had to be, it was for scaling walls!)  Shawn & I agreed there’s no way Steve could’ve eaten it and survived.

Mom—this case is solved; the “Mystery of the Poopy Bat-Rope” is now CLOSED

Before I kick it, I need to decide on a Rosebud of my very own

 

Remember that final scene in “Citizen Kane”?  While reporters gathered outside the dead tycoons estate, speculating on who “Rosebud” was in Charles Foster Kane’s final gasp, we see workers inside cataloging the man’s vast collection of artwork & other treasures, and tossing junk into a giant furnace—including an old wooden children’s sled with the name ROSEBUD painted across it’s center.  Talk about a goosebumpy ending!

It got me to thinking, now that I’ve amassed my own personal fortune & approaching my twilight years & such, what I might utter if I was on my deathbed & holding a snowglobe.  I had a Rosebud of sorts when I was a kid too y’know… a couple of ‘em in fact.

So in honor of this awesome movie (which I just finished watching, is it obvious?) here are the contenders for my final gasp that will leave the reporters tongues wagging.  I had my fair share of toys as a kid (and then some) but these are the ones I treasured the most.  Now I just need to pick which one it’ll be!

1. “Patootie…”  (drop snowglobe, fade to black)

Remember when grownups assumed all kids loved clowns?  (This was before that crazed clown doll came to life in ‘Poltergeist’ and ended the fad.)  But in 1968, for my seventh birthday, my mom gave me this Patootie doll, made by Mattel.  It was a clown BOY, bald when you removed it’s yellow felt cap and it even came with a separate sad-face (for when you were in the dumps & needed a kindred spirit). 

He had long red underwear under his harlequin costume, oversized feet & I can honestly remember balking when I saw him—“for the love of Mike, I’m too old for this!”  But I wound up really caring about the little guy for longer than I’d care to admit.  Dammit I miss you Patootie!

2. “Holy…” (drop snowglobe, fade to black)

Can five year olds have heart attacks?  Because I swear to God, I almost had one when I got this badass ride for my fifth birthday.  It was 1966, and I can still remember Dad coming into our little kitchen on Franklin Street & setting this GARGANTUAN box on our steel & formica table.   When I ripped off the wrapping paper and saw that giant yellow box with Batman & Robin on the front with the word “WOWIE!” in big letters… gasp!  The official Batmobile Rider!

“Come to Papa!”

It wasn’t your typical pedal-car, you pushed the thing backward 10-20 feet, then stuck your feet into ‘pockets’ behind the headlights and flipped a go-switch on the Bat-dash.  That thing TOOK OFF.  The ‘atomic engine’ made a high-pitched revving sound, and even had a hand-brake.  Holy Go-Go Batman, if this doesn’t scream Rosebud, what does?? 

3. “Danny…” (drop snowglobe, fade to black)

Christmas Eve, 1971.  Mom gets a mysterious phone call & Dad hurries out, for what no one knows.  It’s dark when he returns home with a brown cardboard box, which he hands to Mom who takes it into their bedroom like a surgeon with a donated kidney.  What the heck’s going on?  The next day, my parents proudly present me with the one thing I’d asked for that Christmas—a Danny O’ Day ventriloquist dummy.

He was COOL.  Not only did he arrive dressed for business in a suit & bow tie, he came with an instruction book on ‘How to Throw Your Voice for Fun & Profit’ and a long-play record instructing you on the tricks of the trade.  (I think I played that album 400 times, trying to master the “P” sound without moving my lips.) 

That’s my brother Steve, me & Danny O’Day in our bedroom 1971 (dig all those clowns on the bedspreads & curtains)

I didn’t exactly come up with a Vegas act for ol’ Danny & myself, and truth be told I had a lot of other toys (and sibs like Steve here) that were far more entertaining.  But everytime I played with O’Day, I was reminded of Dad hurrying out into that snowy night when Sears called Mom on Christmas Eve and said “we got it”.  

Take that, Rosebud.  

Batman’s here in Pittsburgh--yet he’s never felt so far away

I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that they’re currently filming the next Batman movie right here in Pittsburgh.  Sunday morning while doing some weekend ‘blog-browsing’, I saw that my friend Martin (who primarily writes about music and comics on his blogsite) had done a piece on Prince’s ‘Batman’ soundtrack from 1989.   (Click here for his review.)  

When I mentioned to Martin about Batman filming in the ‘Burgh, I was surprised he didn’t already know.  What, isn’t this national news?!

 

The Bat Emblem, blazed across the front of the Highmark Building

Later, when I told my sister Shawn (who lives south of Pittsburgh) about the filming disrupting parts of downtown, she said “it sounds terribly exciting.”  Yes, it does so how come I’m not feeling it?  I’m just having a tough time finding the love for Batman these days.  

I’m not sure if it’s because of Christian Bale’s raspy voice, the glut of superhero movies on the market, or the character’s evolving further and further away from the Bat-Dude I’ve loved since the 1960’s. 

Like most of my generation, my earliest memory of Batman was the live-action tv show in the ‘60s with Adam West; my parents (God bless ‘em) did the best they could to keep up with my love of Bats—I had Bat pajamas, Bat slippers, a giant Batman poster that hung directly across from my bed (the first thing I saw in the morning & last thing I saw at night), a Batmobile I could pedal and of course—a ‘regulation Bat uniform’ for kids, complete with a fully accessorized utility belt.

 

Christian Bale in his updated uniform, fighting the juggernaut Bane on the steps of the Mellon Institute -- it was 93 degrees when this photo was taken! 

The day before, Christian jokingly lamented on the local news that he was roasting alive in that “black rubber suit”... he should’ve added “all the way to the bank”!   (Okay, that sounded kinda snarky, sorry there Christian) 

Well, getting back to my boring tale—what was so ironic about those early years of mine(and my love of all things Bat-Guy) was that they went on for a good year or two before I even knew Batman had his own comic book!  

Then one day in the summer of ‘68 my older brother Duke asked me if I wanted to see his friend Jeff Tewell’s comic book collection.  I said sure (not really interested, but just wanting to hang out with my big brother).   When we went up to his friend Jeff’s bedroom, I saw a desktop with 2 towering stacks of comics;  it turned out that Jeff’s mother worked at the local GC Murphy’s and was allowed to bring her son home all the books that didn’t sell. 

My brother mentioned what a Batman fan I was, and Jeff said “Here, I have a couple copies of this one.”

 

The cover of my first Batman comic, Batman #197  “Catwoman Sets Her Claws For Batman”

I carried this book around with me for a couple months, not knowing that it was published monthly; and then in early 1969 I got the chicken pox, and my family’s babysitter (Barbara Knopski) brought me a new Batman comic—and my addiction was started.  

(By the time my comic fever was over in the early 80s, I had amassed a couple thousand comics—but with Batman appearing monthly in Batman, Batman Family, Detective, Brave & The Bold & World’s Finest...he probably accounted for half of them!)

Anyway, around the same time DC Comics decided it was time for a change, I did too and began finding new places to spend my money.   

 

Okay, I can’t say I walked totally away;  in the 1990s the ‘tpb’ was born, glossy collections of old & new Batman stories, and I may have bought a few here and there for old times sake... but I’m not the Bat-fan I once was.  I guess I’m still nostalgic for the Batman of my youth.

Anyway, I’m happy they’re filming here in Pittsburgh; the city could use the money.  Am I excited to see it?  Not like I wished I was.  And just because I happen to have this cool limited edition 1960s Batmobile squirreled away in my bedroom closet (still in the original packaging) doesn’t mean anything either, haha!   Until next week, same bat-time... same bat-channel. 

BAT NOTE:   I wanted to give a special shout-out to my friend Jeff W, who reads my blog and sent me a link to a custom car site that will BUILD YOU YOUR VERY OWN BATMOBILE, complete with all the bat-gadgets.  (Okay, it’s $150K but it doesn’t make me want it any less!)

You can read all about it by clicking right HERE.   Thanks again, Jeff!  

Shining a Light on Things: Spending time with family, Batman & a real-life Joker

I wish it was the weekend again. These last couple days at work have been downright criminal with system problems, & I'm beginning to feel like my favorite hero here...(I'm not kidding, when will it all end?!) 

Getting back to the weekend, this past one couldn't have been nicer. Sunday morning I finally bit the bullet & drove to my sister Donda's house in West Virginia for the first time. (It's only the second time I've been there too.) I've often talked about making the trip down, but she lives HOURS away from me and truth be told, I felt a little apprehensive about doing this solo.

But the weather was gorgeous & I enjoyed the long drive--even when I got lost!

But the important thing is, I got to spend a sunny day with Donda & my beautiful niece Drew. (I only wish I didn't have to work yesterday, it would've been nice to hang out with them for the evening. We're both night owls... my next trip may have to be an overnighter!)

Donda, I sure love what you did with the place!  So about those refreshments...

After my arrival, we spent a leisurely hour or so sipping cherry Cokes & carrying on (including some wobbling around on Drew's trampoline while Miss Olympic did handsprings behind me) & then we all piled in the car & went to Arby's to grab something quick before hitting the theater to see the new Batman movie.

(I'm not going to post any personal reviews here; I don't think I enjoyed it as much as admired it, but Batman seems more a hero for adults now than kids...it was pretty dark.)

‘The Dark Knight' was a fine but sad tribute to Heath Ledger; man, his portrayal of the Joker outshone everything else in the movie! He really was brilliant.

There's really not much else to say here, other than a big thank you to my sister & niece for spending their Sunday with me.

They even sent me home with two big hunks of my favorite dessert, a pineapple upside down cake that Drew made--it was excellent!

(This kid is almost as tall as me--what happened to that shy little ten year old with the nifty detective kit?) No matter, she's as sweet as ever & quite the young lady.

I was planning to end this bat-blog here, but a friend recently showed me something online and I felt compelled to share it here.

I generally like to keep my blog in an 'up tempo', but at the same time I don’t want to pretend I’m not dealing with some fucking psycho. 

Part 2:  A Real-Life Villain (What would the Batman Do?)

Here is the jist of it; a former acquaintance of mine (from across the Atlantic) recently posted something on his creepy blog page that I took to heart.

He didn't use my name, he didn’t have to; seeing how he makes a point of letting everyone know how much he despises me (why?) and his Netherlands IP showed up in my blog’s visitor tracker shortly before his drunken rant, it didn’t take much bat-sleuthing to know that he's talking about me here. 

Here’s what he had to say about yours truly.

"Have you ever noticed how the numb nutz who have no life in reality tend to have the biggest counterfeit lives in hyperspace? I mean what normal person has time to build sites and fill it with reams of tedious photos of their humdrum existence? It would be sad and pathetic if it wasn't so sad and pathetic.

I guess it explains why most of them middle-aged losers are still single. No time for the present when the past is in such dire need of embellishment. I guess society at large should be relieved that the potential child molesters find some release for their pent up sexuality."

(A friend of mine saw it, pointed it out to me, and posted his feelings about it before this joker took it back down.  It was up there long enough, though. I kept a screen-print.)

When I first read it, I wanted to respond yes, my blog is filled to the rafters with nonsense, and yes I've probably spent far too much time on it too.  I just see this as a hobby, what's the harm?  How is it different from coin or stamp collectors?  I know people who spend entire evenings for weeks at a time building airplane or ship models, woodworking, restoring old cars.  Or blogging. 

But my response would just be a waste of time—and what I choose to post here is MY business.  Of course. David’s comments here (especially the child molester line) were so filled with hatred & poison… I’ll never understand it.

It’s so weird, there was once a time & place when I actually admired this guy.  But I’d much rather be sad & pathetic than this two-faced monster.