San Diego Comic-Con Day 1: Costumes, Toys, and a Bit of Sentiment

I 'spose we'll have to wait a few days to get the precise attendance figures, but depending on who you asked at what time of the day, the first full day of the San Diego Comic-Con either seemed busier or less busy than Thursday in 2006. Me? I'm gonna stick with "very very busy indeed," because there was a steady, steady flow of attendees, both of the costumed and uncostumed varieties, and I was kept very busy darting back and forth between the feet of convention goers, carting books pack and forth and making certain we had plenty of copies of everything to sell. We've done a brisk day of selling here at Norton. My surprise realization: I shoulda brought more copies of the Moulin Rouge movie bookto the show. (If you want one, better come by tomorrow!) We're getting a lot of interest from our Will Eisner reissues, but the surprise hit of the show so far has been the quirky and poppy Big Bento Box of Unuseless Japanese Inventions. It's not comics, but it sure is fun! All books in the W. W. Norton booth (booth #1714) are 33% off list price throughout the con, so c'mon by not merely for a chance to meet and greet yours little stuffed truly, but to pick up a great book!

Oh course as always the Con is a great place to make new friends and re-meet the old. I was chuffed as cheese to shake hooves for the very first time with a man I've only "met" over the internet before now, Terrific Tom Bondurant, blogger extraordinaire for Newsarama and for his own site, Comics Ate My Brain. Tom is neither old nor grumpy, and I was delighted to make his acquaintance; we have a wonderful chat about the "funness" of comics and one of Tom's favorite Justice League of America stories. I also got to meet once again yet another of my favorite Toms—no, not Selleck, but the powerhouse Tom Spurgeon, king of internet daily news, reviews, and commentary with his unparalleled The Comics Reporter. Thanks, Toms!

Of course, it was a totally excellent day to spy some other folk on the Con floor, too: those illustrious, inventive attendees who come in costume! As I said last year, I'm filled with nothing but awe and admiration for these folks who are creative and bold enough to step out into the crowd in their cool and creative outfits. They do get a lot of attention with praise and compliments shouted or called to them, and plenty of requests for photo ops. Working out of the Norton booth for much of the day I wasn't able to follow around many of the costumed folk for best-angle images, but here's a few of the more inventive ones I spied:


Jedis keep peace throughout the galaxy...


...but sometimes even they need the help of an officer from Reno.


Sam and Max, Freelance Police, on the lookout for obsolete cereals like Rice Krinkles....


...while Deadpool is on the hunt for chimichangas.


Justice League Assemble! A very talented group of fans portray the JLA...


...including the fantastic butt of Green Lantern!

Let's look at that again, shall we?:



There is no need to thank me, SallyP and Ragnell.

(Of course, moments later, Hal was incapacitated when the giant yellow Pikachu display toppled from the ceiling onto his head.)

Ah, but Bully, you ask me, what of WiedlinWatch '07? Have I given up my quest to find and meet the illustrious Jane Wiedlin, Queen o' My Heart? I answer you in words of one syllable (not silly-bull): Heck no! My little button eyes were peeled wide in careful and perpetual scanning for the sprite-like Go-Go, rider of dolphins and the only girl the Go-Gos trust to sit in the convertible while the rest of them are in the store. And you know, if you look hard enough, just like Elvis, Jane Wiedlin is everywhere. I'm pretty certain that was her in Jedi robes cartwheeling down the aisle this morning, lightsaber a-twirling. When I went to get lunch at the Convention Center snack bar was that Jane in front of me, quietly humming "Song of the Factory" and ordering a strawberry smoothie? I'm sure it was. And surely that Dalek wheeling furiously down the hallways, careening wildly, had to be pedaled by Jane...I'm just sure of it. She's always up to something and is perpetually busy, so I've not yet had a chance to meet her and confess my love for her, but there's still plenty of time yet. WiedlinWatch '07 continues unabated!

I am sure of that. I am also as sure that Miss Wiedlin would not at all mind me showing a bit of affection when I met at the Con another subject of my affection, the delightful Miss Gwen Stacy:

Please note that while that cheap floozy Mary Jane Watson retails for $99.99, Gwen Stacy is priceless.

Ah ha! P'raps you've noticed..."Bully!" you exclaim. "You're out of the booth!" And so I was. That's one of the wonderful things about bringing the delightfully enthusiastic Miss Jenn along to help out this year: she's able to spell me while I make excursions of the convention floor. Jenn is having a great time and is filled with wonder and awe at the show. (I'll ask her again after she has done nine or ten of them and see if she feels the same). In the meantime she's having a ball exploring the show and going to panels (she was at the Torchwood one today and reports the show looks great, if you haven't already seen it on the BBC). And she very kindly lets me do the same, so I did have some wonderful moments to explore the floor and catch up on many of the wonders of Comic-Con. Join me, won't you, for some of them?:


Hey look! I'm a Legionnaire!


We miss you, big guy.


Wow, look, Bahlactus was right...Galactus towers over all!


After he gets blasted by Stormtroopers, it is very easy to put Threepio back together...because he's made of Lego!


It's not wise to anger a Wookiee, even one made of Lego.


A Star Wars wall mural made entirely out of Lego. I want to do this at home. I need more bricks.


Oooh! Let me get my change purse!


Empty Lego boxes. It's like the aftermath of the best Christmas ever!


The hall of Artsy Darths!


Carmen Mirandarth.


Jabba says I can have a three week contract replacing Sny Snootles!.


This is my favorite photograph of the day. Sometimes things just work out nice 'n' artsy.


Tons 'n' tons of Totoros. Totori?


Hi, Spidey! I liked your movie.


The DC Comics Booth is so big, it requires its own map.


Do you have Tales to Astonish #39?


Hey, I have a dollar!


This is what you should do with your action figures: open 'em up an' play with 'em.


Everybody is peering into display cases all over this show!


This guy promised to help me with any extermination problems I might have. Thanks, Bob the Dalek!


The ultra-violet neony Sci-Fi Channel booth. I feel like I'm trippin'!


Funny, it looks bigger on TV.


Crates and cases of Commander Cody.


I even discovered the Yellow Brick Road! Oh wait, it's advertising something.


This one's for my pal Eric.

One of the most fun things of Comic-Con is splurging to buy yourself a wonderful souvenir...or two...or three. I am a little stuffed bull who is very careful with his money but every now and then I cannot resist splashing out on some cool stuff to bring me fun memories of my so-far-great time at the Con. So yes, like everyone else in the city of San Diego who is within ten yards of a stormtrooper today, I went shopping. And you know it's gonna be all right when we go shopping!:


Next time that pesky bunny tries to knock down my Lego city, I have the perfect weapon to set against him: a small version of my new pal Bob the Dalek! Ha! Take that, bunny!


I also finally picked up something I saw and drooled over in London and regretted not buying ever since: the Doctor Who TARDIS USB computer hub! The TARDIS light flashes and it makes that wonderful grinding whoosh...whoosh...whoosh sound as it works. Do not scribble "Bad Wolf" on the side of my USB hub, bunny!


But by far the item I was most excited and happy to buy at the Con was the special R2-KT action figure from Hasbro. R2-KT was created in and built in honor of young Star Wars fan Katie Johnson, who died of brain cancer at the age of 7 in 2005. Proceeds from sale of the figure help support the Make-a-Wish Foundation. It's a wonderful cause, a great figure, and it's ultra-pink but not just for girls only! I also got to meet the full-size R2-KT, and she put a little tear in my button eyes...




In the end, it's things like this that make me love fandom most of all. Sure, we are dreamers and fantasists, and we do dearly love dressing up and watching our shows and playing games and reading our comics, but there's also a forward-looking, open-minded tolerance and care for our world and others, and in many ways I have never seen a more open and charitable group than fans of fantastic literature like those here all this weekend. There are charitable groups for literacy, anti-censorship, the famous Robert A. Heinlein blood drive, and much great openness and care for people and kids like Katie, contributing and working to make certain that we can all enjoy our fanciful hobby. Let the people outside our circles scoff at us and point at our costumes, because in my years of fandom, I've learned that there are many, many folks who are caring and giving and making our world a better place. As somebody once said: "'Let me help.' A hundred years or so from now, I believe, a famous novelist will write a classic using that theme. He'll recommend those three words even over 'I love you.'" In many ways, so many of you who adore and emulate aliens and mutants and robots and cartoons, are the most human of all. When I see things like that, I'm proud to be part of this hobby.

San Diego Comic-Con Extra: I Must Stop Eating Toasted Cheese Before Going to Bed

Whew! It was only just a dream. Stop giving me nightmares, Mike Sterling!

San Diego Comic-Con Day 0: Let the Funstivities Begin!

I maintain my bullish position that if you must go to the San Diego Comic-Con, i highly recommend going as an exhibitor: not only do you get to go in early on Wednesday's "Preview Night" to set up your booth, you also don't have to wait in line to enter the big hall! It is sort of the "Get Out of Jail Free" card of comics conventions to have that orange exhibitor tag and breeze past the convention center's crack security teams hours before the general public can get into the show. Resist doing your Nelson Muntz "Ha, ha!" impression, however, because you're there to work. I arrived in the early afternoon and immediately dove into the job at hand, unpacking boxes of fine W. W. Norton and affiliates books and spreading them out on the table in attractive and appealing stacks. (John and Miss Jenn helped a little.) There were posters to be hung and price stickers to be applied and old friends from the Fantagraphics booth to say "hi hi hi" to, so aside from popping up my head every few minutes to check that Jane Wiedlin was not skipping down the aisles, i was a very industrious and helpful little stuffed bull and definitely earned my pay (all the saltwater taffy I can eat!) in helping get the booth into shape. Stacking up Will Eisner books can be tricky...


...but I take immense satisfaction in a job well done and esthetically pleasing. Here I am inspecting my handiwork hooftiwork:
...and then it was time for a brief sit to rest my hooves:


Before you know it is is six PM and time for the con to open for the special "preview night!" But it's still fantastically busy with many many people who have bought four day passes able to make their first excited runs through the show. It's only my second Comic-Con, so I still very much enjoy watching the happy people: unlike some of the other industry trade shows I've attended like BEA, this is a general public consumer show, and the enthusiasm and love these fans have for the comics, films, games, toys, videos and other fantastic media is infectious and raucous. We do a fairly solid business selling books in the first few hours, far busier than last year on Wednesday night. I think I brought a better variety of books than last year and there's a lot of interest in our Will Eisner Library, New Press's Dr. Seuss Goes to War, the Tim Burton's Corpse Bride movie book, and many other titles. I wish I'd brought maybe six or eight additional titles to really fill up the table, but they're nicely spaced and attractively displayed. I may have button eyes, but they are good at stacking up books in attractive ways, if I do blow my little stuffed horn! Our pals at Fantagraphics are even busier, and this is only Preview Night! What will it be like on Saturday?

But Comic-Con isn't all about spending money. (Altho' I did bring my little Hello Kitty change purse to get myself souvenirs!) One of my biggest delight about the show is talking to and seeing a large variety of folks, either industry professionals or just plain good friends of yours little stuffed truly and my puppet-town cow-blog. I spotted quickdraw master Sergio Aragones sprinting down the aisle. My goodness, that man's mustache really is impressive! Speaking of men with impressive hair, Eddie Campbell is once again holding court across the aisle at Top Shelf, and he comes over to hang out with the good folks at Fanta for a while. I had a very lovely chat with Phillip Ginder, a good friend of my blog and my Flickr photos. He said his wife wanted to knit me a sweater! If I were not black and white all over, I might blush at such a lovely sight. I spotted animator Craig McCracken peekin' at our Newmarket movie books but I did not harass him with my Spice Girls/Powerpuff Girls theory. I spotted one of my favorite Legion of Super-Heroes artists, Jeffrey Moy. I got a little fanbull gushy when I had a great extended chat about Will Eisner and other greats of the industry with Danny Fingeroth, who has worked on some of my favorite Marvel Comics in the eighties and nineties and now publishes the amazing Write Now! magazine for TwoMorrows (whose booth I surely must pop by this week).

I didn't spot many costumed attendees at the Con tonight (tomorrow they will be out in full force, and of course even more on Saturday, the busiest day of the show), but keep your eyes open and you might just spy Davy Jones. No, not the Monkee (I believe he was busy tonight at Marcia's prom) but old Calamari-Face himself from Pirates of the Caribbean:


I'll tell you this about Davy Jones: guy smells great. Like a Red Lobster. Man, was I hungry for fried shrimp after he passed by! The only thing disappointing about his appearance at the Con was that he was not accompanied by Keira Knightley.

Speaking of subjects of my affection, WiedlinWatch '07 continues! I'm pretty sure I spotted the lovely Miss Jane several times. When I was in line at Starbuck's for a venti mocha frauppucino (mmmmm), I was standing behind a convention attendee in full Wookiee costume. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have blinked twice but I was almost certain I could hear her humming "Rush Hour" in her fuzzy suit. She was a little short for a stormtrooper Wookiee, too. But by the time I worked up the nerve to say "'Zat you, Ms. Wiedlin?" she had grabbed her chai tea and was sprinting off across the convention floor. Later as I was climbing up on some books to get a better view of the convention goers I could have sworn I saw her cute spiky-haired head bobbing through the crowd, and I do believe I spied her down the aisle hanging out around the DC booth in a Black Canary costume. And later on I'm almost certain I saw her zipping down the aisles on a Segway. That Jane, she certainly does get around, and it looks like she must be having a ball. But oh, Jane, please slow down next time and say 'hi hi hi' to this little stuffed Wiedlin fan! I will show you our fine books and explain to you 99 Ways how I really, really love you.



Warren Ellis has reported on his Twitterfeed that apparently someone died at Comic-Con! Oh dear! I sure hope it wasn't you, dear reader. Please take it gentle and easy and enjoy the show: it's a big, big one and there's lots to see. You can follow my progress and celeb sightings throughout the day by tuning into my Twitterfeed. Yes, it's a busy show but I still will have time to tell you if I spot Laurell K. Hamilton or Darwyn Cooke. (I know which one I'd rather meet!) But if I do run into Jane Wiedlin, you're just going to have to wait. I'll be busy telling her just how meeting her is making me Feeling Like Flying.

San Diego Comic-Con Day 0: Breakfast Makes Bully Feel Better

A quick post as I'm on my way in a few mins. to the fabulous San Diego Convention Center to help John and Miss Jenn set up the Norton booth and stack out lovely books for your perusal (check us out at booth #1714, won'tcha?), but just wanted to share with you the sure way to get yourself up, ready, and energized for a busy busy day ahead: breakfast at the Old Town Mexican Café in San Diego. Here I am, about to munch down on a hearty plate of chorizo y huevos! Yummy, and Mexicany!:


Here's a handy Bully tip which won't cost ya anything: step into a taxicab and head on over there for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Well, the breakfast will cost you something but it's very affordable. It's the tip that's free, although I couldn't say no if you brought me back some yummy corn tortilla! You may have to cool your heels a wee bit for a table, 'specially on the weekends, but it's worth the wait! I'd even recommend ditching the convention center in the middle of the day and headin' on over for a late lunch. Your tummy will be glad you did!


It's at 2489 San Diego Avenue, but if you can't remember that, just step in a cab and tell them to take you to the main drag in Old Town, and then you can find it easily or ask for directions. It's just down the street from the Chuck Jones art print store, so pick up a print of Bugs or Daffy while you're there, or enjoy any of the other many great bars, restaurants, and gift and art shops in Old Town!

And oh yeah! I even think I saw Jane Wiedlin there! At least I'm pretty sure that was her. She was sitting in the back hunched over a big-ass plate of huevos rancheros, a fork in each hand and going at it like a Mixmaster! Even Jane's burps are cute, I'm telling you. As I'm a very very big little stuffed fan of the cutest Go-Go with the best solo albums (really, Jane! I even bought Kissproof World! And the Frosted album!), ever since I found out the Wild Miss W. was co-hosting this year's Eisner Awards ceremony, I'm become obsessed with getting to meet (and maybe get a "Blue Kiss" from) my favorite Go-Go and Star Trek supporting character! P'raps I will hand her a copy of my Ensign Wiedlin fan fiction story! (It's the one where she works at Starfleet by day and fronts a girl group rock band at night.) Anyway, I'll be on the lookout for Jane all weekend, and like Waldo, I'm sure I'll be seeing her pop up everywhere I look, so I hereby declare WiedlinWatch '07 open. See you, and Jane, at the show!

San Diego Comic-Con Day Minus 1: Hertz Donut

Arriving in San Diego, you get on a little bus and go to pick up your rental car. And that's where the fun begins:

Trip One to the Hertz Rental Desk:

I have Express reservations, which means you step up to the Express desk, give them your license and credit card, and then print and pass you your papers. In Seattle (admittedly, at Budget, a different rental company at a different airport), I do this sort of system 5-6 times a year. It usually takes twenty to thirty seconds.

There is no one at the Express desk and the roped off aisle to the Express desk is actually closed at the end. It is adjacent to the Customer Service desk. I ask "Can I get someone at the Express desk?" There are four clerks sitting at the customer service desk talking among themselves. One of them looks up and jerks her thumb at the regular reservation line. "You have to go over there," she says. I get in line. There's about ten people in front of me and three clerks behind the desk, one of which is going through training. Two of the people being served are deciding what car they want to rent by flipping through the book and asking questions instead of having it picked out ahead of time.

It takes about half an hour to get to the front of the line. The man behind me starts yelling and complaining to the staff about it. They promise they will add extra staff. One more person is added about five minutes later. When I finally step up to the desk, however, I'm in the home stretch. I have a reservation and it's all down on paper. I've also reserved Hertz's pretty-excellent "Never-Lost" GPS navigational system, with the friendly chirpy voice of "Linda Neverlost" telling you when to turn and where. Good value for money.

ME: This car has Never-Lost, right? (pointing to my reservation papers where it says "Never-Lost GPS Navigational System Reservation confirmed")
CLERK: Oh yes, yes it does. It's a burgundy Taurus, and it's in space 613.

She has a bag of Skittles which she keeps munching on. My mouth waters. Mmmmm, Skittles. We laugh and joke about keeping your afternoon blood sugar up. She is very pleasant and polite.

Walking out across the hot parking lot, dragging my suitcase, I find a burgundy Taurus, throw my suitcase in the trunk, my other bag in the back seat, get in the car...

No Never-Lost navigational system.

Trip Two to the Hertz Rental Desk:

I'm lucky enough to catch my clerk hanging out at the customer service desk rather than at her post (even though there's a line of twenty people waiting to pick up their cars).

ME: I'm sorry, but that car doesn't have Never-Lost in it.
CLERK: Oh no! Hold on, let me fix that for you.

She goes back to her post and I follow. She eats some more Skittles while she punches up another car for me to take and gives me the paperwork. It's supposed to be another Taurus, this time in space 625.

I drag all my stuff back across the hot parking lot to space 625. It's a lime green Mercury something. It isn't a Taurus. I open up the front door and look in. There's no Never-Lost in this car.

Trip Three to the Hertz Rental Desk:

ME: You gave me another car without Never-Lost.

She is very apologetic. She's waiting on a guy and I tell her, "No, finish waiting on this guy, he was here." It takes about four minutes, which is fine. I notice that while the line for the rental cars has grown to about thirty people, there's yet again only three clerks waiting on people, including mine. I also notice there are six Hertz reps standing at the customer service desk talking to each other.

Clerk pops some more Skittles while she looks up my paperwork again. This time she calls to one of the customer service reps and reports my problems. Customer service rep takes my papers and goes out to the parking lot; returns five minutes later to confirm there are no Never-Lost systems in those cars. "Yes, I know that," I say. "That's what I was telling you. What I need is a car with one in."

She goes out and returns again five minutes later, telling my clerk to give me the car in space 779. It's another Taurus and it has Never-Lost, she says, and hands back the papers to my clerk and walks away into the back room. The clerk starts going through my papers and realizes she didn't give her back mine but someone else's. Wait while she hunts down the rep and finds the papers. Books me on the third car. She is continually apologetic. I tell her I completely understand it's not her own fault and I am very polite and patient with her, but that whoever's parking the cars in the spaces is putting them in the wrong slots. She hands me my papers.

ME: Thank you very much. But if I have to come back I'm taking your Skittles away and eating them all.

It is now one hour and change since I stepped into the rental building. The third car is in space 779 and it is the silver Taurus the paperwork shows. It has a Never-Lost system in it. I put my bags in the car and get in. It's very, very hot inside. I turn the key and turn on the air conditioning.

The AC doesn't work.

I fiddle with the knobs a little. On fan settings 1-4, there is zero air conditioning. On fan setting 5, the AC blasts nice and cold but very loud and very hard.

I sit and think for a moment. Do I want to go back or can I live with a car that has AC only at the top setting?

I put it into drive and pull out of the parking space for the exit.

At the exit barrier a clerk in a hut looks at my license and paperwork. I report the AC problem and ask him to put it in his report, which he types in. He peers in the car and asks me "And your gas tank is full, correct?"

I look at the gas tank. It is 7/8 full.

He marks that down so I don't (hopefully) get dinged for it at the end of my trip. And I zoom out onto the highway and head for San Diego.

When I check into the Radisson Harbor View they can't find my packages I had shipped to myself in their package room. The cheerful and friendly desk clerks goes off to look for them but returns to say she did not see them anywhere. I have already gotten an email UPS confirmation that they have been signed for so I tell them when they arrived and who signed for them. One is a big box that's a foot long on every side and has W. W. Norton on the side of the box. The other is a four foot tall, two foot wide, six inch deep massive box containing foam-core mounted posters for my SDCC booth. Hard to miss. She goes away and come back ten minutes later saying she can't find them. I ask if I can go look in their room because I'm sure I can spot them immediately. They say they can't allow guests in the package room but she will recheck and she rushes off again. I immediately follow her. Despite her protests I step into the package room with her, which has about a dozen boxes in it, the vast majority of them FedEx pizza-size boxes. Mine are leaning right along the wall. There are no other big brown boxes except my two.

There are no bellhops in the (under-construction) lobby or out on the front landing. She promises to get a bellhop to get a cart to bring my stuff up. I wait five minutes. No one appears. The desk clerk returns behind the desk and asks me if a bellhop came. I am remarkably patient when I say "No, if they did, I would be in my room."

She apologizes and goes to get a bellhop. She hasn't returned in two minutes so I manage to hoist the square box in my arm while pulling the big poster one behind me, tugging my suitcase with the other. I get up to my room by myself and toss my stuff on the bed and floor. I turn up the AC and veg out for a while.

Half an hour later I realize I'm still warm and sweaty. I put my hand up by the AC grill and there is air coming out but it's room temperature. The AC is turned up to maximum coldness. I step out into the hall. It is cooler in the hall than in my room.

I go back down to the lobby and tell them my AC is not working. A (different) desk clerk tells me she will call to have someone come fix it. This is where I put my hoof down. "No," I say, politely but firmly. "I would like a different room now, please. I'm going to be here six nights and I would like a different room now. On the same floor, please, so I don't have to lug my stuff too far." I do not want to wait until it is too late to do this: the hotel will be full up tomorrow and there is no chance to change.

She is very polite and apologetic and instantly gives me a new room a few doors down from where I was. I go back upstairs and check it out. It is cooler in this room with the AC off than the other one with it on. I flick on the AC. It immediately starts to get cooler in the room. I move my stuff and take the old key down to the desk clerk and thank her.

Then I go out and buy a bag of Skittles.

The moral to the story is: I'm too polite and patient a little stuffed bull for my own good. And, that if you book into the Radisson Harbor View when you arrive for San Diego Comic Con, don't let them give you room 613.

And yes, I have already written a complaint letter to Hertz, explaining my frustration, but that it was not the clerk's fault, who was apologetic and helpful throughout but that their system is severely broken and that I am unlikely to rent from Hertz again. I am patient, yes, but I do like to get form letters of apology plus discount coupons.

May your San Diego adventures be smoother and less frustrating! See you tomorrow evening on the floor for Preview Night!

A Wodehouse a Week #13: Nothing Serious

Who doesn't love the unlimited all you can eat buffet at Ponderosa Steakhouse? Even little bulls enjoy hopping up, peering under the sneeze guard, and shoveling huge heaps of salad, Jell-O, chicken wings, tacos, cottage cheese, pickles, pudding, macaroni and cheese, spaghetti and meatballs, little plastic toy cars...golly, let's go to Ponderosa right now, shall we?

...

Okay, we're back. And I'm stuffed! So it's an excellent time to lie back on the couch and prop up my copy of P. G. Wodehouse's Nothing Serious (1950) on my overstuffed belly. An odd segue, you say? No! (This is an odd segue.) Nothing Serious is a collection of various short stories featuring different Wodehouse characters—a veritable smorgasbord of fun and fancy by the master of whimsy and wit...in other words, an all you can eat variety buffet of fun! And no chicken bones!

There's ten stories in here, mostly reprints from magazines, featuring varying characters, from Bingo Little (Bertie Wooster's chum from the Jeeves stories) and Lord Emsworth (of the Blandings tales), five "Oldest Member" golf stories, a Ukridge story (which reminds me—I've got to do a Ukridge book soon in this Wodehouse project!) and other tales of love, marriage, and even cricket. There's a slight sporting theme running through almost all the stories (only the second defies sports-i-fication), but even this little sports-challenged bull can appreciate 'em. (Although I still don't understand the rules of cricket!)

Short stories are great for the hot long summer days: I highly recommend one of Wodehouse's short story collections for lyin' back in a hammock with a frosty cold Arnold Palmer. They're best read in stretches of one or two at a time rather than a big chunk at once: the finger food of literary entertainment. And really, what's more delightful than the wonderful Wodehouse world in which love is so cheerful and casual:

An idea struck him. He called up Agnes Flack.

'Miss Flack?'

'Hello?'

'Sorry to disturb you at this hour, but will you marry me?'

'Certainly. Who is that?'

'Smallwood Bessemer.'

'I didn't get the second name.'

'Bessemer. B. for banana, e for erysipelas—'

'Oh, Bessemer? Yes, delighted. Good night, Mr. Bessemer.'

'Good night, Miss Flack.'

The sentiment must be catching, because Miss Flack isn't the only one to leap into love:

'...She's a modern streamlined Jezebel, dash her insides.'

'Uncle Everhard,' said Corby, 'you are speaking of the woman I love.'

The girl gave a little gasp.

'No, really?" she said.

'Absolutely,' said Corky. 'I had intended to mention it earlier. I don't know your name...'

'Clarissa. Clarissa Binstead.'

'How many s's?'

'Three, if you count the Binstead.'

'Clarissa, I love you. Will you be my wife?'

'Sure,' said the girl. 'I was hoping you'd suggest it.'

Don't you wish all love could be the same? Sigh. Only in Wodehouse. Of course, the advice for the lovelorn you get should p'raps sometimes be taken with a grain, or a shaker, of salt:

'Women.' he said, 'are all alike. They need to be brought to heel. You have to teach them where they get off and show them that they can't go about the place casting away a good man's love as if it were a used tube of toothpaste. Let me give you a bit of advice. Don't sit brooding in bars. Do as I intend to do. Go out and start making vigorous passes at some other girl.'

'To make her jealous?'

'Exactly.'

'So that she will come legging it back, pleading to be forgiven?'

'Precisely.'

Sidney brightened.

'That sounds good to me. Because I mean to say there's always the chance that the other girl will let you kiss her, and then you're that much ahead of the game.'

'Quite.'

And avoid dictating advice to your fianceé:

'I'd like to give you a bit of advice,' he said. 'What's wrong with your dancing is that you give a sort of jump at the turn, like a trout leaping at a fly. Now, the way to cure this is very simple. Try to imagine that the ceiling is very low and made of very thin glass, and that your head just touches it and you mustn't break it. You've dropped your engagement ring,' he said, as something small and hard struck him on the side of the face.

'No, I haven't,' said Celia. 'I threw it at you.'

My two favorite stories in here are "Bramley is So Bracing" (whose title is a take-off on that famous British railway poster), in which Bingo Little's pal Freddie Widgeon misplaces Bingo's baby son...twice, and what would surely be Stan Lee's favorite P. G. Wodehouse tale, "Excelsior":

'...When I think of what Horace Bewstridge went through the day he battled for the President's Cup, I am reminded of the poem, Excelsior, by the late Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, with which you are doubtless familiar.'

'I used to recite it as a child.'

'I am sorry I missed the treat,' said the Oldest Member courteously. 'Then you will recall how its hero, in his struggle to reach the heights, was laid stymie after stymie, and how in order to achieve his aim, he had to give up all idea of resting his head upon the maiden's breasts, though cordially invited to do so. A tear, if you remember, stood in his bright blue eye, but with a brief "Excelsior!" he intimated that no business could result. Virtually the same thing that happened to Horace Brewstridge.'

'You know,' said the young man, 'I've always thought that Excelsior bird a bit of a fathead. I mean to say, what was there in it for him? As far as I can make out, just the walk.'

'Suppose he had been trying to win his first cup?'

'I don't recollect anything being said about any cup. Do they give cups for climbing mountains 'mid snow and ice?'

'We are getting a little muddled,' said the Oldest Member.

"Excelsior" features one of the greatest and funniest denouements in the Wodehouse golf stories: the aforementioned Horace, struggling in love and golf, perseveres feverishly to win at both by wooing the attention of his fianceé's obnoxious and boorish family—laughing at the uncle's Irish Pat and Mike jokes, indulging the spoiled little nephew, and sneaking treats to the vicious nipper of a family dog—but his patience runs out when they trespass upon his one chance to win the golf trophy of his dreams. When Alphonse the dog begins to yap during a tense moment of putting precision, Horace must make the choice to either be a mouse or a man (and please note, the 'chasm' is actually just a golf bunker and not a Wile E. Coyote-style cliff):

The dog, he was saying to himself, was the apple of Irwin Botts' eye. It was also the apple of Ponsford Botts' eye. To seek it out and kick it in the shins, therefore, would be to shoot that system of his to pieces beyond repair. Irwin Botts would look at him askance. Ponsford Botts would look at him askance. And if they looked at him askance, Vera Weatherby would look at him askance, too, for they were presumably the apples of her eye, just as Alphonse was the apple of theirs.

On the other hand, he could not putt with a noise like that going on.

...The next moment, the barking had broken off in a sharp yelp, and Alphonse was descending into the chasm like a falling star.... Horace returned to his ball, and resumed his study of the line.

The Bottses, Irwin, and Ponsford, had been stunned witnesses of the assault. They now gave tongue simultaneously.

'Hey!' cried Irwin Botts.

'Hi!" cried Ponsford Botts.

Horace frowned meditatively at the hole. Even apart from the length of it, it was a difficult shot. He would have to allow for the undulations of the green. There was a nasty little slope to the right. That must be taken into consideration. There was also, further on, a nasty little slope to the left. The thing called for profound thought, and for some reason he found hismelf unable to give his whole mind to the problem.

Then he saw what the trouble was. Irwin Botts was standing beside him, shouting 'Hey!' in his left ear, and Ponsford Botts was standing on the other side, shouting 'Hi!' in his right ear. It was this that was affecting his concentration.

He gazed at them, momentarily at a loss. He, he asked himself, would Bobby Jones have handled a situation like this? The answer came in a flash. He would have taken Irwin Botts by the scruff of his neck, led him to the brink of the chasm and kicked him into it. He would then have come back for Ponsford Botts.

Horace did this, and resumed the scrutiny of the line.

Excelsior, indeed! The twist, of course, is that Vera has been waiting all along for someone to put her horrible family in its place, and Horace has just fulfilled her dream. Love conquers all, on the golf course and everywhere else in the world of Wodehouse.

Nothing Serious is the July "Book of the Month" for the Yahoo Wodehouse group, so everybody who's anybody is reading it. (I myself read it in a Vintage UK paperback edition I picked up on a trip to London in 1997, where I was lucky to fill in a lot of holes in my collection thanks to a large number of newly-reissued Wodehouse paperbacks). Here's the spot in "A Wodehouse a Week" where I usually tell you where you can pick up a copy yourself, but wow, that's gonna be a difficult hunt, because the book's out of print in both the US and the UK. I'm not posting the usual Amazon.com link because copies are going for $99-250 used online. As I am a little stuffed bull who is very careful about his hard-earned dimes I'm going to instead recommend you try to order Nothing Serious through interlibrary loan, okay? There should be enough library copies floating around the country to let you do that. In the meantime I will write Overlook Press a very polite email and ask them to bring Nothing Serious back into print in their beautiful Collector's Wodehouse edition hardcover reissues. Also, I will eat some of the chicken wings I brought back from Ponderosa. Mmmmm, chicken wings.

Seven of a Kind: Hayley's Comet

In honor of one of my favorite blogs—the incomparable Lady, That's My Skull, hitting its second anniversary today, and to salute its erstwhile and cold-blooded webmaster/blogger/repitilian-insect hybrid, the illustrious Sleestak, here's a very special Ten Seven of a Kind spotlighting the patron goddess of Lady, That's My Skull...Miss Hayley Mills!















And...that's it. I could only find seven comic books (one a reprint) featuring the smiling face of the delightful Miss Mills on the cover. She doesn't appear on the cover of the Saved by the Bell comic, nor does there sadly ever appear to have been a Dell Comics adaptation of her movie The Family Way.

So, instead, in celebration of the man reptilisoid who's the Hayliest, here's three more images of Miss Mills:

Paint-by-numbers Hayley! Don't forget to stay inside the lines!



"Oh no, little Hayley has gotten into her sister Juliet's makeup case again!"



Miss Mills's hair by Mister Poppin-Fresh of Hollywood, California.

And, oh, what the hey: two of my favorite panels from that Summer Magic comic book adaptation, only half of which is reprinted in an issue of Walt Disney's Comic Digest that I own, so I have never known how the story started:

Hayley is sick and tired of you, Julia Carey!



Hayley loves literature! 'Specially poetry!

But Hayley loves Lady, That's My Skull even more. And so do I.

Happy Blogiversary, Sleestak!

See you in San Diego!

I'm currently packing my little wheeled suitcase with all the outfits and stuff I need for a week away from Brooklyn...yes, that's right, folks, it's that time of year again: I'm off on Tuesday to beautiful sunny sopapilla-filled San Diego for the 2007 Comic-Con International! I'm bringing my want lists and my camera and my sensible shoes to walk the starship-sized floor, and I'm also bringing my little bull-sized laptop, so I hope to have reports and photos for you right here, every night from the show!

As last year, however, my reports will be mainly stationary: I'm going there to work, so I'll be tied to my booth for much of the show and will be reporting on the sights and scenes that pass by row 1700 of the show like a carnival parade. However, this year I'll also get some chances to wander out of the booth, because in addition to my best pal and ace Bully-wrangler John, we're also bringing along the delightful Miss Jenn who will be bringing her usual expertise and enthusiasm to the show! Also, she's a big comic book fan too, and frequently stumps little stuffed me on trivia questions. You're really really smart, Miss Jenn!



So, if you're going to be at the show, why not drop by and shake my hoof? I'd be deelighted to meet you! I'm going to be based much of the show in the W. W. Norton booth, booth number 1714, adjacent to our good pals at Fantagraphics and once again across the way from the pleasant Mr. Jim Balent and his frighteningly pneumatic heroines. C'mon by and see and buy (at discounted Con prices!) our fine graphic novels, movie tie-in books, and street art surveys, plus a few surprises! If you don't see me hopping about on the tables replenishing books and pointing you to the fine new editions of Will Eisner, don't panic! Just go up to the big guy in the Hawaiian shirt (that'll be John), grab him by his lapels and say "I want to meet Bully!" If he's not there, the delightful Miss Jenn will be around and will be glad to tell you when we'll be back in the booth. You may also see me at some panels: I 'specially want to go to Saturday morning's "Meet the Press: Writing About Comics" to see many of my favorite comics journalists and bloggers up on the podium. So if you spot me there sitting on John's shoulder hopping up and down to get a good look, well, just come up to me and say "So you must be the famous Bully!"

If you're not going to go, well, I salute your fortitude and self-control in staying home and relaxing instead of trying to hustle through the packed crowds. It can be overwhelming. But if you are gonna be there, see you there!