And still reminiscing. The first comic book convention I ever attended was a New York affair in 1970. Going by the calendar (never a very reliable guide to how long things last), it was three days but from where I was, it seemed like twenty. So much was new, so much was exciting. Now, flash forward to this Comic-Con International, which is ostensibly four days, or four and a half for those of us who arrived the night before. How startling to find it almost over when it seems like a good twenty minutes since Carolyn and I checked into the hotel. Time to start packing, for God's sake. Yesterday went particularly fast, despite the fact that I moderated five (5) panels, one after the other, commencing at 10:30 in the ayem with a panel on the history of Western Publishing Company, Dell Comics and Gold Key Comics. Mike Royer, Maggie Thompson, Len Wein, Frank Bolle, Jerry Eisenberg and I talked and answered questions from a highly-interested audience…and I guess I should explain about Jerry: He's one of the most brilliant designers of TV animation but we didn't have him there to talk about that. His father, the late Harvey Eisenberg, was one of the great "funny animal" comic book illustrators — the main guy for years on the Tom & Jerry books that Western produced, plus he also turned up in the Disney books, the Hanna-Barbera titles and everything else they could get him to do. Like many who labored so anonymously, his work has been much-loved but the lovers never knew whose work it was they were loving. Assuming the con will let me, and I have every reason to assume they will, we'll do more panels in the future about Western and try to shine the spotlight on more such artists and writers.
At Noon, we had the annual Golden Age Panel with Howie Post, Harry Lampert, Irwin Hasen, Mart Nodell, Murphy Anderson and an unusually feisty Julius Schwartz. This was followed at 1:30 by the annual Sergio/me panel, also featuring Stan Sakai and Tom Luth, with whom Sergio and I do Groo the Wanderer and other silly books. Attendees of this panel received the rare and much-coveted honor of watching me eat lunch as we answered questions.
At 3:00, I ran across the hall to moderate a gathering of three legends of science fiction: Forrest J Ackerman, a still-feisty Julie Schwartz…and the incomparable Ray Bradbury. Ray is still confined to a wheelchair due to one or more strokes but from the waist-up, he's still Ray "The Martian Chronicles" Bradbury. I took the three of them through the saga of their three-way friendship: In the thirties, the L.A.-based Ackerman and the New York-based Schwartz struck up a correspondence which led to Ackerman contributing to The Time-Traveller, a small-circulation mimeographed publication which Schwartz produced in 1932 with his friend, Mort Weisinger. It was the first science fiction fanzine ever. Ackerman also participated in a small s-f fan club in Los Angeles, which is where he met Bradbury. Later, when Ray travelled to New York (via a gruesome Greyhound bus) for his first science-fiction convention, it was because Forry had loaned him ninety dollars, which he later paid back by selling The Los Angeles Times on street corners.
It was at that convention that Bradbury met Schwartz who had become an agent for s-f writers. Two years later, Julie sold a story of Ray's — the first one ever to be purchased by an editor. As it happened, Schwartz was planning a trip to Los Angeles anyway, so he decided to deliver the good news and payment in person. He drove to L.A. and his first night there, hooked up with a friend and went out to get some dinner. By coincidence, the restaurant was across the street from where Bradbury was hawking newspapers. Schwartz recognized his client…and that's how Ray Bradbury found out he'd become a professional writer. Julie walked up and handed him a check for $35, less the 10% commission.
Bradbury spoke eloquently and passionately about a range of subjects, including the space program's shameful (to him) neglect of Mars. He's just finished an article for Playboy on the subject, so those of you who buy Playboy for the articles can find out his thoughts on the topic. He also spoke with even greater passion to those in the audience who aspire to write, urging them to follow their own muses and to not listen to "any damned fool" who tells them how and what they should write. It was a short but wonderful hour and I doubt anyone who was present will ever forget it.
Then I ran next door to host the Cartoon Voice Panel with — hope I don't leave anyone out — Joe Alaskey, Rob Paulsen, Lauri Fraser, Kathy Garver, Mark Hamill, Jess Harnell, Billy West, Gregg Berger, Bob Bergen, Greg Berg and Maurice LaMarche. Not much I can say about this except that we had a packed dais and a packed house, and the audience seemed to love what they heard. We read scripts from Fractured Fairy Tales and Pinky & The Brain, and everyone on the panel did about eleven voices and that's about all I have to say on the matter.
I party-hopped the evening away and staggered back here to the Hilton (from whence I am currently blogging) way too late. Got a lot done…but darned if it doesn't feel like this con has lasted about the time it takes to microwave a Hot Pocket. In a couple hours, I go over to interview Larry Lieber for my last panel, then I sign books for an hour and get on the San Diego Freeway. Now, there's a place where time moves like molasses…
See you later from my home computer.