Monthly Archives: June 2002

A semi-scary thing happened to me the other night: I discovered I couldn't do something I used to be able to do.  Allow me to explain…

I used to draw a lot and letter a lot.  I never had any delusions or even desires that I might make either my primary line of work…but when writing and editing comic books, for instance, it sometimes came in handy to be able to do a little art touch-up or letter a balloon.  I've drawn, or sometimes laid-out, a number of covers and even a few stories, and I would often design the cover lettering on comics I was editing.  Sometimes, when an artist had fallen behind, I'd ink some backgrounds.  I had enough control of a pen, brush or pencil to be able to do that.  In fact, Tom Orzechowski — who some folks felt was the best letterer in comics when he was doing more of it — once said in an interview that I was a better letterer than half the guys doing it full-time.  Beyond all this, I used to simply enjoy spending an hour or two a week at the drawing board instead of the keyboard.

But I got away from it — or perhaps it got away from me — for several reasons.  One, of course, was the computer.  Back when I was doing comics in the eighties, I designed and lettered the logo for a book I did called Crossfire and it took me about eight hours over three days to get it where I wanted it.  The Crossfire logo we use now is a version I did recently on the computer.  It took about seven minutes.

So there's one good reason I'm not doing as much lettering as I once did.  Another is that I'm not editing a whole line of comics at the moment.  Yet another is this: I've been honored to work with some of the best comic artists of the present-day…folks who are not only much, much better than me but much, much better than most professional artists.  Working with those guys only made me see my work as even less adequate than it already was…and one day, one of them made a rather thoughtless remark that I think helped erect a little mental block on the topic.  He didn't mean it maliciously…probably wouldn't even remember that he said it.

Last evening, I was called upon to do some fancy calligraphy.  It was the first time I'd really lettered something by hand in years and I was appalled at how poor my work was.  Way below whatever my previous standard was.  It's jarring to discover you can't do something as well as you could five or ten years ago.  I wasn't so good five or ten years ago that I could afford to lose any of it…but I have.

I have resolved to practice and to get back whatever I once had.  But I thought it was worth mentioning it here as a kind of cautionary note: Use it or lose it, people.  Computers are great but you might not want to wake up one morn and discover that you've lost some organic, personal skill just because you found a good software program to do the same thing.  This is what killed the dinosaurs, right?

Game shows of the MTV generation usually look for physical player involvement, so I'm surprised no one has thought to revive Video Village, a silly but fun series that ran from 1960 to 1962 on CBS.  Format-wise, it was pretty simple: Two players competed as life-size "pieces" on a studio-sized game board.  Each would bring a friend or relative along to roll the dice for them and, based on that roll, contestants would move one to six spaces along the "street."  Some spaces paid little prizes — merchandise or money — some spaces cost you a turn or took your prizes away.  On the last of the three "streets," the prizes became considerable…and, of course, the object of the game was to reach the finish line before your opponent.

There was also a kid's version of the show briefly on Saturday morning.  As I recall, it was called Video Village Jr. in the TV Guide and it was called Kideo Village on the show itself — or perhaps it was the other way around.  I was ten at the time and bothered more than anyone should have been by this discrepancy.  Years later, when I met its host, Monty Hall, I saw my chance to finally get this age-old riddle answered and off my widdle mind.  I asked him why the show had one name in TV Guide and another on the air.  His reply was, "It did?"  Thank you, Monty Hall.  (In 1964, the same production company — Heatter-Quigley — did another kids' version of Video Village.  This one was called Shenanigans and was hosted by Stubby Kaye.)

Monty Hall was actually the third host of Video Village, following Jack Narz and Red Rowe.  As was the custom in the board game version of TV quiz programs, no real host is depicted on the box cover of the Milton Bradley version above.  I had always assumed that this practice was because the owners of the show didn't want to share the loot with the host, and that may have been the reason in some cases.  But an expert at such things — a collector of board games based on TV shows — once told me that wasn't the main reason.  The main reason was so that the board game could be sold overseas (where game shows were often produced with local hosts) and so that the toy company didn't get stuck with an out-of-date box on already-manufactured items if the show changed hosts.  Changing stars in mid-stream was more common then than it is now…although, at some point, every one of us is going to get to be the host of Family Feud.

Back when I was twelve, I loved to play the home version of Video Village, often with a friend of mine named Alan.  Oddly, Alan didn't want to play against me.  The only way he enjoyed the game was if we found a third person to compete, whereupon Alan could function as Monty Hall.  Though the board game was designed to be played one-on-one with no emcee, Alan loved to preside and to do all the unnecessary game show host patter that Monty did on the air, even asking the announcer (whose voice he'd also do) to tell us what we'd all won.  Unfortunately, when I went over to Alan's house, the only third party available was usually his younger sister who was thoroughly uninterested in his silly games.  I'd say to Alan, "Let's play Stadium Checkers, instead."  But Alan wanted to play Game Show Host, so he'd start bribing Sis the way an older brother can bribe a sibling: "If you'll play two games with us, I promise not to yell at you for a week and to let you ride up front next time Mom takes us to the market."  His sister would counter, "Throw in that you'll take the trash out and tell Mom that you were the one who broke her vase."  It all foreshadowed Monty's subsequent TV program, Let's Make A Deal, except that it was more mature since no one had to dress up like a giant hubbard squash.

It also never worked.  Once we got into the game, Alan, being the gracious host, would ask her, "So, where are you from and what do you for a living?"  He'd expect her to say, "Well, Alan, I'm a stenographer from Lansing, Michigan and I have three wonderful children," but she'd say. "I'm from the same place as you, doo-doo head, and I'm ten years old.  I don't have a job."  He'd scream at her for not playing along and she'd scream at him for using her toys in the swimming pool and that would be the end of today's episode of Video Village.  Come to think of it…though we didn't know it at the time, we were actually playing the home version of The Jerry Springer Show.  You know, I bet that would sell.