The Day I met a King.

 The year is 1992. With a few friends, I leave Montreal in the early hours of the morning to take the plane that will bring us to San Diego, California.

The goal of the journey is to partake in the Grand Mass of Geekdom that is Comic-Con.

From humble beginnings in 1970 with an attendance of roughly 300 visitors, the Convention had grown into a multi media behemoth by 1992, being crowded by over 22,000 proud nerds, either on a quest for that rare comic book, or hoping to rub elbows with revered artists and has been actors. By this point, Comic-Con had started attracting the attention of Studios, who had rightfully noticed that an event attracting tens of thousands of voracious popular culture fanatics could be a good platform to promote their future nerd-friendly productions. Thus it came to be that after getting an autograph from Bruce Campbell, I sat in a large amphitheatre where Francis Ford Coppola was presenting exclusive scenes from his upcoming DRACULA.

I had been to comic book conventions before. Montreal had its own regular events where geeks could shop around and meet the occasional artist. But this was the granddaddy of them all; a monstrous agglomeration of fans and artists, spread out into the many cavernous rooms of the San Diego Convention Centre. Stating that entering the main room is overwhelming is an understatement. Three days is never going to be enough to rummage through all this. Tons of comic boxes fencing in dealers as far as the eyes can see. Costumed visitors, recreating lovingly (and at times awkwardly) favourite heroes and villains, making the experience all the more surreal.

The main room at Comic-Con as it is today. The expense was already this large in 1992.

And then there are the guests themselves. As I stated earlier, studios, stores and publishing companies know the value of a brand name, and pepper stars copiously all through the Convention floor.
This is where I make my most embarrassing faux-pas, as I stop at the Table for Hollywood Book and Poster. A sign advertises the presence of infamous horror host and PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE star Vampira (Maila Nurmi). I look right and left, and set back my eyes towards the pudgy elderly woman sitting at the table, looking up at me with anticipation. ''Where is Vampira?'' I ask. Her smile is chased away be her newly formed frown. Her voice is glacial as she answers: ''I am she''...Of course it makes sense. She is after all 70 years old at this point, and why should I expect the slender ghoul I remember from over 30 years ago. Embarrassed,  I take a photo awkwardly, and leave hastily without purchasing an autographed picture (something I still regret to this day).

Maila Nurmi in her heyday as a TV host.

Maila Nurmi cracking a smile for this misguided fan who failed to recognize her.

Other stars are encountered as I wander through the sweaty masses. Mr T has crappy Polaroids taken with fans to promote a comic book in which he is the hero. I still have an audio memory of the sound his chains made as they bounced on his barrel chest.

Special effects Wizard Ray Harryhausen, who brought to life myriads of creatures, big and small, gave a fascinating lecture on the art of character animation. We would end up meeting again about ten years later in Montreal during the Fantasia Film Festival. I am waiting with him for an elevator with a group of festival organizers. I take the opportunity to break an uncomfortable silence by adopting an odd posture, with both arms raised slightly to my sides. I ask him: ''Please, animate me.'' He looks befuddled for a moment, and then proceeds to move my arms a few inches in different directions, as if to approximate a walking gait. I thank him profusely by stating proudly that ''I have been brought to life by Ray Harryhausen''. There is an awkward feeling in the elevator afterwards, but I relish in the honour I had just been bestowed upon.

 I wasn't going to pass a chance to say hello to Sam Raimi's best gift to the Modern World, Bruce Campbell. After all, I am his ''Only True Friend''.)

As I try to arrest my sights on another display of Geekery Galore, I spot hugely influential FAMOUS MONSTERS MAGAZINE editor Forrest J. Ackerman. I approach him to ask for an autograph, which he gladly provides, and then asks if I can help him find his booth.  After looking through the plan of the floor, we walk to his destination, where he agrees to have his picture taken. I wish I remembered what we talked about, but he was warm and friendly, and that's all I was asking for. I met him a couple of times afterwards in the following years. He made a cameo in my low-budget ''epic'' THE SILENT INVASION during the 1998 Chiller Theatre Convention in New Jersey, and a few years prior, he came to Montreal to make a speech at a local Sci-Fi Convention. The room was small, and fewer than 30 people were sitting in there. He asks the small crowd to sit closer to the front row, where I had already taken place. He begins with a story about a visit he had made to Spain, where he had noticed that a lot of kids had their own pet donkeys. ''What was interesting is that all those pets seemed to be named ''Odie''. You could hear them call their pets all the time: ''Donkey Odie, Donkey Odie!'' ( Pronounce it aloud and you will find a dubious pun referencing Cervantes.). I like a good wordplay. And I LOVE a bad one. Just happy to have been able to witness up close one of Uncle Forry's infamous puns, I burst out laughing amidst a totally silent room. Ackerman looks at me, looks at the rest of the crowd, then looks back at me and says :''You can stay, the rest of you can go!''

 My first meeting with Uncly Forry, unaware at this point we would be ''brothers-at-puns''

There is of course the legendary ''Artists' Alley'' where Comic Book artists sign and sketch tirelessly for gleeful fans. I take the time to have the Hernandez Brothers doodle in my sketchbook, complimenting them on their amazing work on LOVE AND ROCKETS.

Mario Hernandez looks on amused as his brother Jaime sketches for me.

 Further down the table is sitting groundbreaking artist Neal Adams, who is perusing a portfolio presented to him by a hopeful young artist seeking approval. His stuff is gorgeous. Or at least, it seems to me. Adams flips through the pages, and hands him back the artwork. Not looking at me, he grabs my sketchbook and starts doodling Valeria the She-Bat, a character that came and went. He keeps talking to the young upstart, who is riveted. ''Your stuff is nice, but it's not professional. I can't see you making it in this industry. But you're welcome to prove me wrong.'' I was aghast at his apparent lack of warmth, but over the years, I have come to realize what he was doing; He didn't want to blow sunshine up the guy's behind. He felt the guy could improve his skills, and basically challenged him to do so. Better this than to face rejection or become a third rate player. Not nice, but wise.

Neal Adams providing some tough Love.

Some artists were at their own booth, promoting their own Publishing company, or being guests of another cultural entity. I stopped to meet as many as I could, and while I won't enumerate all of them here, I will provide you with a short sampling.

The youngest of  whom I would consider Comic Book Legends was Dave Stevens. The ROCKETEER artist may not have been the most prolific creator out there, but he left an indelible mark in the field with his lavish, gorgeous artwork.

Charming and friendly as heck Sergio Aragonès, who rose to comic book stardom with his artwork that lined the pages of Mad Magazine, and later as creator of the Conan parody GROO THE WANDERER.

Horror master Bernie Wrightson who defined  his own unique style with his masterpieces SWAMP THING and his definitive adaptation of FRANKENSTEIN. I've had the pleasure of interviewing him years prior during a visit to Montreal. I may track down this interview and share at some point in the future.

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Mike Kaluta, who was part of the fabled Studio in the seventies with with Wrightson, had left a mark with his delicate artwork on DC Comics THE SHADOW. 

An undeniable giant in the industry; Will Eisner, whose very name is behind the major prize that Awards excellence in the field of Comic Book Artists. A Storyteller that revolutionized the field and made it an art form.

As far as legends in the field go, by 1992, everybody knew Bob Kane's name. He had made certain to avoid obscurity by insuring that his name would always be associated with his creation BATMAN. However, many major parts of the Batman mythos right down to the iconic look, had been conceived by original collaborators Jerry Robinson and Bill Finger. Riding high on the renewed stardom of his ''brain child'', he would ask gleefully, with money dancing in front of his eyes, ''Would you like to see Robin in the next picture?''

As Comic Book legends loom larger and larger, I happen on the  most popular name in the field today. A man who is now synonymous with Comic Books; Stan Lee. While he was mot as ubiquitous as he is these days, with the Marvel films making sure everybody and their mother know his face, Stan Lee was already a force to be reckoned with in 1992, strong from over 30 years at the head of Marvel Comics, whether as an editor in chief and writer or as overall figurehead of the company. He relished in the attention and Love from the adoring fans, and why shouldn't he? He is behind the creation of a large sum of what is to be considered modern mythology.

Funnily enough, as he chatted with fans, I saw him sign piles of comics without looking at them. One of them was a Batman comic, which he never had anything to do with.

 

This brings us to the end of our journey.

But wait! What about the ''King'' you refer at the beginning of this story? Was it Stan Lee?

No. Stan Lee was ''The Man''.

''The King'' was, and will always remain, Jack Kirby.

I'm not going to revisit Kirby's accomplishments in the field. Suffice it to say that he was already working as an artist in 1936, and the age of 19. That he created with Joe Simon in 1940 the patriotic hero who would until now personify American ideals, Captain America. That over his career, he created more heroes and villains that populate current popular culture than any other artists.

More than an artist, he was a man of ideas. With Stan Lee, they established in the sixties ''The Marvel Method'': Stan Lee would come up with a plot. Kirby would go home and write the actual story as he drew the pages, adding bits of dialogues in the margins. Stan Lee would get the artwork back and write the final dialogues. A technique that would lead to many surprises. A fine example is when Lee got back pages from Fantastic Four #48, where he had plotted the coming of a planet devouring foe named Galactus. As he looks through the pages, he notices this ''Crazy flying guy on a surfboard''. He asks Kirby what it is and Kirby replies: ''well I figure a guy as important as Galactus would have his own herald.'' Thus was created fan favorite The SILVER SURFER.

This collaborative effort lead to the creation of the super powered menagerie that populates our screens these days; the aforementioned Captain America, Thor, The X-Men, The Fantastic Four, The Hulk, Iron Man (with Don Heck), etc... Even the bad guys in the new Justice League movie were imagined during his tenure at DC Comics in the seventies, when he created the ''Fourth World''.

His style may not be the most refined, but it is always striking and he is a redoubtable storyteller. It is nearly impossible to grab a Kirby comic and put it down before the end. He is undeniably dynamic, and came to be an inspiration for generations of comic book artists. In 1992, Comic-Con were celebrating his 75th birthday and he was one of the highlights of the event.

That is why I was overly excited when I saw him at the Hanna-Barbera Productions booth, nearly alone as fans were lining up nearby to meet and greet artists from newly founded and wildly popular IMAGE COMICS. The irony and injustice was hard not to notice. My camera was out of film, so I run to meet my friends, telling them that Jack Kirky is here! Being people of exquisite taste, they came along and one of them took a picture of me with the King. The man felt frail standing next to me. As my friend got ready to click away, I noticed longtime wife Roz standing in the wings. I plead her to come along in the photo. She adorably faked modesty and said ''Oh all right!''.

I asked for an autograph, but Roz reminded Jack that he is not up to start signing things. ''I know you, you won't stop!''  So I told Jack about my appreciation of his work. I took out an issue of Argosy Magazine where a short autobiographical story by Kirby is featured. STREET CODE recounts in affectionate details a slice of life in Jack Kirby's youth in 1920s New York City.

Showing the 8 pages story to Kirby, I told him how I found it great to see him finally draw real life. I will never forget his reply, as he leaned closer to me, as if to share a secret.

''But everything I draw is from real life! Take Doctor Doom. He is a handsome guy. But he has this tiny scar on his face, and it made him crazy. I knew a guy like that back in the days. Nicest guy in the world. But if you made the tiniest rip in his shirt, he'd kill you! HE'D KILL YOU!!!''

His stare is fiery and his gravely voice is raised as he says those last words.

The whole dramatic flourish of this moment is pure perfection and will remain engraved forever in my mind.

I had met The King, and he had warned me of a potential deadly attack by a madman.

This is what happiness is like.

So many of them have departed this mortal coil by this point; Will Eisner, Forrest J. Ackerman, Dave Stevens, Bernie Wrightson, Bob Kane, Ray Harryhausen, Maila Nurmi... Kirby died two years after our meeting. This year, he would have been 100 years old.

It took me over 20 years to go to another comic book convention. After meeting such giants in the industry, everything else seemed anticlimactic. How could it ever compare? I had been in the presence of some of the very founders of this facet of Popular Culture. True Escape artists who had defined an industry and literally created Worlds I had spent uncounted hours in. Embellishers of life who make this planet infinitely more interesting, both sending us soaring through the Universe, and grounding us back to Earth to explore its repulsiveness and beauty.

I salute you.