Ten
years ago or so I wrote and drew two short comic strips detailing the
misadventures of myself when I was a child. I intended these ‟Little
Wayne” tales to be an ongoing series, to be collectively titled
Misspent Youth. I drew them in a different artistic style than
what I usually do. My goal was to emulate some of the great ‟Little”
comics series of the past like Little Archie, Little Dot, and Little
Audrey, as well as strips like Richie Rich. While I was mostly happy
with the results of the two I produced the art style never clicked
for me. I began work on a third one, but ended up really hating the
art I was producing for it, got frustrated, took a break, and never
went back.
It’s
unfortunate, because I think I had some good ideas. I had a list of
autobiographical memories that dealt with nostalgia, child-like
wonder, and the disappointment that arises when confronted with the
real world. They were also pretty funny. I still think they are worth
sharing, so rather than go back to a dead project and attempt to
draw them I want to relate them here. It will be different of course,
but hopefully still entertaining. Each of these blog entries will
carry the Misspent Youth title.
I want
to begin by retelling the first story I drew in prose form.
When I
was in first grade in 1967 I wanted to be the Flash for Halloween.
I’m pretty sure none of my teachers or most of my friends even knew
who the Flash was. Fifty years later he’s on TV and kids everywhere
are into the Scarlet Speedster. It makes me incredibly happy when I
see posts of friend’s children dressed in the incredibly detailed
costumes that are now available.
I wasn’t
so lucky back then. Mom bought me a Ben Cooper Flash mask and costume
at McCrorys. One of those plastic affairs that made you sweat and it
was hard to breathe. The costume was a plastic sheath that had a
picture of the Flash on the chest. Flash wore a red and yellow
costume with a lightning bolt on it. He didn’t wear a picture of
himself. I didn’t want to wear a picture of the Flash. I wanted to
be the Flash.
So Mom
got out her sewing machine. We got red and yellow cloth ad began to
cut and sew. I was pretty specific with what I wanted. In every Flash
comic, and on the costume we bought, the yellow part of his costume
streaked out behind him as he ran. I now know that these drawings
were by Carmine Infantino. The yellow streaks were meant to represent
Flash running at super speed. At the time, all I knew was that I
wanted the yellow part of my costume to be made out of long, trailing
strips of cloth. It would make me look like I was running really
fast, you see.
So the
day of the first grade Halloween party came. We held a parade down
the only street in my small hometown. There I was, all drooping red
and yellow cloth, not looking like I was moving very fast at all. To
make matters worse they paired me up with some kid in a devil
costume. I was supposed to be a superhero and they made me hold hands
with the prince of Darkness.
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They
just didn’t get it.
