Tagged: Martha Thomases

MARTHA THOMASES: Dorothy Parker

MARTHA THOMASES: Dorothy Parker

Dorothy Parker was a poet, short story writer and critic for The New Yorker in its heyday. When I was first writing, I wanted to be Dorothy Parker. Well, actually, I wanted to be Nora Ephron, who wrote a column in Esquire at the time, and who said that she had once wanted to be Dorothy Parker. A quick trip to the library, and I had an entertaining week reading her poetry. You probably know at least one of her poems, “News Item,” which goes:

Men seldom make passes

At girls who wear glasses.

Her literary and theatrical criticism, under the nom-de-plume of Constant Reader, was also hilarious, and I cannot recommend it highly enough. You can catch up with her poems, short stories and reviews in the omnibus Portable Dorothy Parker.

Mostly, however, she was celebrated for being the only woman at the Algonquin Round Table. In a group that included Robert Benchley, Harold Ross, George S. Kaufman, Harpo Marx, Alexander Woollcott and others, Parker was the only woman considered witty enough to be a regular (although Edna Ferber and Jane Grant, Ross’ wife, sat in occasionally).

It was an attractive fantasy for an unpopular girl in boarding school. I was not a person who got to sit at a table with boys. The only males who listened to me were my teachers, who were paid for it. Naturally, I looked for a way to be sought after, instead of merely tolerated. I spent the next twenty years writing, trying to earn my place at the table. If only I had known that the easiest thing to do was to work for a comic book publisher.

I’d freelanced for Marvel in the 1980s, but being on staff at DC was an entirely different animal. All of a sudden, I had everyone’s telephone number, and if I called someone for no apparent reason, my call was still answered happily. I could go to one of the Warner Bros. movie screenings and have people save me a seat. I could sit at any table at any bar near a convention and be welcome. In fact, I was often the only woman at the table.

It was heady stuff. True, these were not the prep school boys whose attention I had craved in my teens, but instead comic book editors, artists and writers. They were often smart and funny, but hardly ever blond or WASPy. Still, it felt as if I was sitting at the table with the cool kids. I was getting laughs telling jokes to guys who weren’t my husband. This was better than therapy!

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A midsummer’s weekly reading

A midsummer’s weekly reading

Another glorious summery weekend here in the New York metro area, so with the necessary errands all done (why is it that most of them seem to involve spending money?), it’s time to catch you up on what ComicMix columnists have written this past week:

Hey, Mellifluous Mike Raub has reached a milestone with his big ComicMix Broadcast #65 and beyond; does that make him eligible for senior citizen privileges?

Lastly on a personal note, a huge thanks once again to Andrew Wheeler for all his comics link posts during my extended day-job swampitude! I hope to be back here full time before y’all know it (but not before Sandy Eggo)…

MARTHA THOMASES: That’s What Friends Are For

MARTHA THOMASES: That’s What Friends Are For

Over the weekend, I read the entire trade paperback collection of The Amazing Transformations of Jimmy Olsen. I had anticipated a rollicking journey through my childhood, since I’d read most of these stories as a kid.

Alas! It was not to be.

The stories are fun, don’t get me wrong. Jimmy Olsen, the Everyboy of the DC Universe, is transformed from a working guy into a futuristic genius, a fat man, a werewolf, a porcupine, a turtle boy, a giant, a Bizarro and more. He travels to the future with the Legion of Super-Heroes, and he’s courted by two separate beauties from other worlds. As a kid, even a girl-type kid, I identified with Jimmy, and wanted to be Superman’s Pal.

Now, reading these stories as an adult, I still find them funny, but also oddly bleak. Jimmy Olsen is a lonely, lonely man. Superman may be his pal, but their interaction in these stories seems limited to story set-ups. Superman brings Jimmy a collection of stuff he found in outer space, leaves it for the young reporter to write about, and mayhem ensues. Sometimes Superman saves him, sometimes the bad stuff wears off, and sometimes Jimmy is sharp enough to save himself. In every case, he’s terrified that he won’t fit in, and his friends will shun him.

Professionally, Jimmy is on thin ice. He gets fired time after time, and often is forced to go and join a carnival freak show to earn a living. For some reason, there is always a freak show conveniently in town, with a side-show slot for him. Maybe things were different when these stories were written, but I thought most newspapers required at least a high school diploma to get a job. Doesn’t Jimmy have any other marketable skills? Why doesn’t he consider a related career, maybe in advertising or public relations, where his writing ability and photography skills would earn a more reliable income?

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STUFF REVIEW: Arf, Arf, Arf

STUFF REVIEW: Arf, Arf, Arf

Craig Yoe is not the most unusual man I’ve ever met. However, this is a statement that reveals more about me than it does about him, and since this is a review of his work I’ll try to stop scaring people.

Craig Yoe runs this place called Yoe! Studios, which is really just one single studio filled with talented people, a lot of energy, and great fun. They do all kinds of stuff: they create the Big Boy Comics (yes, they’re still being published), they do those astonishingly packaged comics figurines that Dark Horse sells and they do design work and create toys and sundry chachkis for such clients as Kraft, Warner Bros. and Microsoft. They hand out Yoe! Studio whoopee cushions and thongs at important business trade shows. He used to run the Muppet Workshop. He actually looks like the Kelly Freas drawing, slightly dispelling the myth that if you don’t look like Corporate America, you won’t fit into Corporate America.

Craig Yoe is also a major, long-time comics fan, among the best and brightest Ohio has had to offer comics, which is saying a lot (the tip of the iceberg: Jerry Siegel, Tony Isabella, Maggie Thompson, Mike W. Barr, Harlan Ellison, ComicMix’s own Martha Thomases and Mike Raub). But, to no one’s surprise, his tastes are as unusual as he is.

For the past couple years, he’s been foisting his line art fantasies on the general public with his Arf series, published by Fantagraphics. There are three such books out right now – in order, Modern Arf, Arf Museum, and Arf Forum. No matter how hardcore a comics enthusiast you might be, there’s a lot of weird stuff in these volumes that you should see, that you would want to see.

His roster of reprinted talent includes (in alphabetical order): Ernie Bushmiller, Charlie Chaplin, Robert Crumb, Salvadore Dali, Dan DeCarlo, Jack Davis, Rudolph Dirks, Max Ernst, Jimmy Hatlo, Hugh Hefner, Reamer Keller, George Herriman, Frank King, Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, Patrick McDonnell, Pablo Picasso, Artie Spiegelman, Mort Walker, and Wally Wood. That’s a really eclectic group of cartoonists; and, yes, I meant cartoonists. You might not have perceived some of the above as such.

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MARTHA THOMASES: Mansion on the Hill

MARTHA THOMASES: Mansion on the Hill

Every weekend, when I walk by the newsstands, I see cover stories in gossip magazines about Brad and Angelina, Jennifer, Reese, Lindsay, Britney and others. Although I only read these magazines at the hairdressers, I am fascinated by the lifestyles of people I will likely never meet. On Sunday, I enjoy the Real Estate section of The New York Times, looking at pictures of homes that can cost tens of millions of dollars.

And then, there are my favorite comics.

Batman has always been one of my favorite characters, at least in part because of Bruce Wayne. I am moved by the image of that little boy, watching his mother’s pearls scatter on the street as his parents are murdered. As a child, I was afraid the same thing could happen to my parents. As a parent, I wanted to spare my child from that tragedy.

(To his credit, my son wanted to do the right thing. “Don’t worry,” he assured me when he was five years old. “If you’re ever gunned down by criminals, I promise to avenge your death.”)

Most of the people who have written Batman over the years have concentrated on the Caped Crusader and his underground Bat Cave, not the billionaire playboy who lives in the manor above. Most of the more recent writers believe that Bruce Wayne is the disguise, that the little, traumatized boy grew up to be Batman, not Wayne.

That premise allows for many interesting stories, and I understand that it’s more fun to play with the driven, rage-filled Batman, the character with the high-tech equipment and the regimen of martial arts training. A person who fights bad guys is more likely to work in stories that require a beginning, a middle and an end than a single man rattling around in a mansion.

Except …

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ComicMix columns declare independence

ComicMix columns declare independence

Between the final episode of this season’s Dr. Who airing on the Beeb last night, and this afternoon’s "live" (read: an hour delayed) VH1 running of the Concert for Diana (sure, I could have seen the actual live stream online, but then I wouldn’t be able to do anything else with my computer), it seems this weekend as though England must have won that war a couple hundred years ago, at least the cultural end of it.  Nonetheless, our ComicMix columnists have been doing our all-American best to keep you entertained this past week, and here’s your weekly wrap-up of our latest:

Did you catch Mellifluous Mike Raub‘s "Words and Pictures" below?  If you want to relisten to the Big ComicMix Broadcasts to which he’s referring, here they are again:

Lastly, we extend a laurel and hardy handshake welcoming Andrew Wheeler to our happy little gang!

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MARTHA THOMASES: Gotta Serve Somebody

MARTHA THOMASES: Gotta Serve Somebody

This past month has been a very busy one for me. I’ve been out of town three times, twice on business, and I’ve attended two trade shows and three comics conventions. It’s a lot of time to be thrust into crowds of people, whether waiting at an airport, a synagogue, a taxi line or a display booth.

This past month has exposed me to a variety of interpretations to the phrase, “customer service.”

I first started to think about this nearly 20 years ago, when I saw a presentation by Peter Glen, the author of It’s Not My Department: How to Get the Service You Want, Exactly the Way You Want It. At the time, I was working in the special events department for a large retailer, and we were just starting to feel the first effects of Wal-Mart and other discount stores. According to Glen, the way to compete was not by cutting prices, but by offering more service.

He doesn’t just mean stores need to hire more sales assistants. He means the customer must be treated with respect, as if her time has value, and her needs are important. Customer service includes displays that feature all available sizes, quality merchandise that doesn’t break, and efficient check-out. This shows the customer that the merchant understands her, and provides the best value.

“Value?” you say. “How can you say value is important when you first said stores shouldn’t compete on price alone?” Well, I’m glad you asked. Would you rather shop at Wal-Mart, where costs are kept so low that they won’t hire a security guard to patrol their notoriously dangerous parking lots, or at another store where the management demonstrates a concern for your safety? Would you rather by a cheap coffee-maker (or other small appliance) that you need to replace every year, or a good one that lasts a decade or more?

As a comics reader, would you rather buy a comic that has a cover that’s teasing or unclear, or would prefer one that clearly represents the story inside?

When I worked at DC Comics, I was astounded at how obscure some of the covers for the trade paperback collections could be. “Where’s the title?” I’d ask. “How can I tell who wrote and drew the story?” Often, this information would be on the back of the books, invisible to the customer looking at the display. “It doesn’t matter,” I was told. “By the time the book is racked, we’ve already been paid for it.”

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Overloaded on cons?

Overloaded on cons?

The older some of us get, the more tendency to burn out.  Transportation troubles and physical limitations may conspire to prevent us from getting the full con experience, but when you can keep up with everything from the comfort of your own computer, things don’t seem so bad.  Here’s your weekly wrap-up of ComicMix columns:

It was great seeing Mellifluous Mike Raub and Kai and Matt yesterday; as usual, they’ve been busy as well with their podcasts:

And don’t forget this week’s special bonus:

Remember, summer’s just started — pace yourself!

MARTHA THOMASES: I love my shirt

MARTHA THOMASES: I love my shirt

When I left DC Comics in 1999, I stopped traveling to comic book conventions. I’d still go to the Big Apple shows and MoCCA Art Festivals to see my friends, but these take place in New York City, which, coincidentally, is also where my closets are. Now, for the first time in this century, I’m going to shows again.

At DC, those of us in the marketing department were required to wear t-shirts promoting the company’s characters, or with one of the company’s logos. At ComicMix, we wear our logos as well while we’re on duty. When I go to local shows to see my friends, I figure they already like me, and I’m not particularly going to make any new pals.

This is the long way to say that I don’t especially worry about my appearance at comic book conventions. Either someone has made that decision for me, or I was going to see someone who already had formed an opinion about me.

None of this is not to say I didn’t obsess over my appearance. I do. I worry constantly that people look at me and think, “Who let that fat old woman out of the house? Aren’t there laws against such public displays of cellulite? Is it really possible for flesh to sag that much in so many different places?” However, when going to a comic book event, I didn’t worry about these questions any more than I do when going to get a newspaper, or mail a letter.

To me, comic book conventions were a professional obligation. I presented myself as my profession requires, just as I wear a suit to meetings with journalists or clients, and a sweater to the yarn store. When a comic book convention is a social occasion, I’ll dress as my peers dress, perhaps taking the occasion to wear some cute shoes my friends can admire.

I do not consider conventions to make new friends. In fact, I never went to one before I worked at DC (except to go to parties when I first started working in comics, but, as a freelancer, I needed the free hors d’oeuvres). Even though I’ve been reading comics since 1958, I never socialized around them. Comics were something I liked, like rock’n’roll music, or blueberries. My friends were more likely to come from my political activism or the swim team or, later, from jobs or parents with kids the same age as mine.

Until recently, I’d guess most women at comic book conventions also didn’t worry too much about their appearance. As Heidi MacDonald has observed, most women at comic events were “dragalongs,” women who were attending because their boyfriends, husbands or sons liked comics, not because they were fans themselves. The best thing about going to a show used to be that there were never any lines for the ladies room.

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ComicMix comes to Poppa

ComicMix comes to Poppa

While my ComicMix colleagues are having the time of their lives in Charlotte or Philly, I’m moping here in NY with a bad case of the sufferin’ sciaticas.  It breaks my heart, I love Heroes Con and really wanted to be a part of its big silver anniversary celebration.  Oh well, at least I can catch up on comics reading while hearing about all the cool stuff to come (PAD on She-Hulk!  Dwayne on JLA!  MWaid back on Flash!  Oh yes, I’m a happy fangirl) and, of course, bring you the weekly columnist wrap-up:

Meanwhile, Mellifluous Mike Raub marches on with his Big ComicMix Broadcasts:

Hope my fellow ‘Mixers bring me back some goodies from down south!