This message appeared here originally on October 31, 2003…
One day back in 1967, I was home from school with the flu and to pass the time, I decided to write some letters to comic book letter pages. This, of course, was back when comic books had letter pages.
Back when they did, I sent in a lot of letters and amazingly (for a time) had about 85% of them selected for publication. I told myself with grand pride that obviously, my prose was of such wit and insight that it stood out from the piles of what must have been hundreds, even thousands of letters. That track record stopped being so amazing when I started working in comics and saw the volume and quality of the mail that was received. Even a comic selling 250,000 copies only received about 25 letters, of which maybe eight might be printable, some with judicious rewriting by the editors. The rest were in Crayola® or said nothing deeper than "I love this comic!"
But I didn't know that back in '67. I just knew it was fun to open up a comic book and see your words — and better still, your name — staring back at you. So in a moment of fever-induced inspiration, I wrote the following letter and sent it off to Stan Lee. Months later, I was surprised to find it not in the letter page of one Marvel Comic but in Stan's Bullpen Bulletins page, which meant it ran in every Marvel that month. You can click on the image below and see a scan of the printed page or you can just read the transcript that follows it…
STAN'S SOAPBOX!
While we're waiting for your letters telling what you'd like us to editorialize about, we thought you'd get a charge out of this note which we just received:Dear Bullpen: Enough! I have sat idle too long! I have watched the M.M.M.S. turn into disorganized chaos. (And that's the worst kind!) As a solution, I suggest we have some officers. By buying his first Marvel mag, a fan is automatically entitled to the rank of RFO (Real Frantic One). His first published letter elevates him to QNS (Quite 'Nuff Sayer). A no-prize raises him to TB (True Believer). Each additional no-prize raises one level: From JHC (Junior Howling Commando) to RH (Resident Hulk) to AAT (Associate Assistant Thing) and finally to the penultimate, the utmost status a fan can attain: MM (Marvelite Maximus)! Naturally, the artists all have the rank of DDD (Definitely Dizzy Doodlers), the editorial assistants are IPR (Illiterate Proof-Readers), art associates are VOD (Victims of Doodlers), the letterers are IWP (Indefatigable Word Placers), and Stan himself is at the summit – MEO (Marvel's Earthbound Odin). Each person would use his title at the start of his name – as I've done. (Signed –) RFO Mark Evanier
Y'know something, gang – we kinda dig Mark's idea. Let us know how it hits you and maybe we can really get the thing rolling! Fair ‘nuff?
And sure enough, they modified my titles a bit but soon, there were official ranks of Marveldom. To this day, when I run into Stan Lee, he rarely fails to mention that I came up with that and he treats it like it's the only important thing I've done in my life. Which it may well be. (The letter, by the way, was somewhat edited…as were most letters I had printed in comics back then. I don't believe I even knew the word "penultimate" at age 15. One of the reasons I stopped writing letters to comic books was that they were often rewritten, sometimes to the point of significantly altering my intended message.)
But it was not to be my only time in the Bullpen Bulletins. In 1970, I worked for a while for an outfit called Marvelmania International, which was selling posters and decals and other merchandise of the Marvel characters. Well, let me amend that: The mail order firm, which was disguised as a fan club, was taking orders for such items and cashing the checks, and once in a rare while, they'd actually produce an item and ship it out. But a lot of kids were shamelessly ripped-off and when it became apparent that this was happening, I quit, as did my friend Steve Sherman, who was also working there. A few months later, the guy who owned and operated the company upped and vanished to avoid a legion of creditors, and has not been seen since.
Before that happened, back when we and everyone still thought the company was legit and functioning, Steve and I paid a visit to New York City and spent a few days hanging around the Marvel offices, meeting everyone and gathering material for the "club" magazine. This was in July of '70 and even though we, like everyone else who ventured near Marvelmania, never got paid what we were owed, there were certain perks to our association with it…not a lot but, hey, you take what you can get.
One was that we spent a few hours with Stan Lee and he stuck a little notice in the Marvel Bullpen Bulletins, which appeared in every Marvel title each month. Some of the later Bullpen pages were written by others imitating Stan but he wrote this one, which ran in comics dated January, '71. I know because I saw him sit down at the typewriter and begin banging it out in his inimitable style, which included forced nicknames and chatty familiarity. No one ever called Steve "Stevey" and no one else thought we were young, zingy with-it guys but, hey, he's Stan Lee. If he says you're young, zingy and/or with-it, you don't ask questions. Here's the way it appeared in all the Marvel books a few months later. And whether you click on the image to see the scan or read the transcript that follows, take note of the item after the one about Steve and me…
ITEM! Just thought you'd like to know – the outspoken young fan who gave us the idea for the Ranks of Marveldom a few years ago (R.F.O.'s, F.F.F.'s, etc.) is now a full-fledged editor, turning out possibly the greatest fan mag of all for our own MARVELMANIA INTERNATIONAL! His name's MARK EVANIER, and he and his assistant editor, STURDY STEVEY SHERMAN, came to visit us the other day from sunny California where Marvelmania has its headquarters. They're a couple of young, zingy, with-it guys, and after yakkin' it up with ‘em for a while it's easy to see why MARVELMANIA has become the toast of fandom! They were in town to attend the famous ComicCon '70, and speaking of conventions —
ITEM! We just have to tell you that our first open meeting of the ACADEMY OF COMIC-BOOKS ARTS, held during the summer, was really somethin' else! One of the cleverest entertainers of our time, none other than WILL JORDAN, the great monologist and impressionist (you've seen him break up the Ed Sullivan show a zillion times), provided some of the most hilarious routines we've ever howled at. Our most heartfelt thanks to Will, and to all the panelists and guests who made it such a memorable and meaningful affair.
Most of the comics Stan worked on in the sixties have been praised to Asgardian proportion and I certainly agree there was wonderment aplenty in there. But I also really liked the friendly editorial "voice" he established in his letter columns, house ads and especially in the Bullpen Bulletins. He put himself on a first-name basis with the readership at a time when the rival DC editors generally came across not only as adults but stodgy adults. He simultaneously bragged about the greatness of Marvel and expressed such humility that when they screwed up, as they occasionally did, you were willing to cut them a lot of slack. I will never forget the issue of Tales to Astonish where in the letter page, Stan admitted that the Giant-Man story had been done in such a rush that he wasn't sure it made a lot of sense (it didn't), nor will I forget the way he made it sound like he and the Mighty Marvel Bullpen lived to serve us 14-year-old consumers.
And there's a reason I included the item after the item about me. While I was in Stan's office that day in 1970, he got a call from Jim Warren, publisher of Creepy and Eerie. They were on the planning committee for the Academy of Comic Book Arts, a group that was then trying to elevate the form in cursory ways. Warren was calling to say he'd arranged for Will Jordan to entertain at the upcoming meeting and Stan replied, "That's great! He'll be terrific! Good work, Jim!" Then Stan hung up the phone, turned to me and asked, "Who's Will Jordan?"
I explained that Will Jordan was a comedian-impressionist who was best known for his appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show, and Stan proceeded to write the entry you see above, talking about how great Will Jordan was, and how great he'd been at the meeting…which took place after this page went to the printer. Some would call this a bit of trickery but I thought it was a fine example of Stan's imaginative writing. Anyone can write a report on an event after it happens…