CHARLES ATLAS STOLE MY ANKH

The classifieds in old comics were a minefield for the young soul.

If you thought getting hold of a bottle of Dracula's soil was dangerous then think again. Yes, a vial of the Count's mouldy substrate would be enticing but then you saw the small ad for an ankh! Yes, your very own Ancient Egyptian ankh complete with curse! Now who in thier right minds would buy a curse by mail order?

Not to be outdone by objects, there were perilous activities too. the Dim Mak or the death touch was but ten bob away and you too could slay your enemies with just your fingertips. Its a wonder we didn't see streets full of writhing youths succumbing to the Dim Mak!

And what about hypnotism? For a couple of pennies you could learn to hypnotise your best friend's sister and turn her into a golem to do your bidding. It was there for the taking, you just had to send a 10 pence postal order.

If not yet mesmerised you could always ask Joe Weider or Charles Atlas how to kick sand in the face of humiliation whilst sunbathing on Morecambe Bay. I often found myself lying on golden sands on the Fylde Coast surrounded by a harem of tanning aphrodites and their sand kicking guards. Alas not!

If any of these weren't enough to tempt your mortal soul to squander its flimsy creed and send off some serious dosh then you hadn't yet reached the ad for the Rosicrucians. Now who in God's name were they? Festooned with ancient symbols, compasses and pyramids, I can only assume they were the cub scouts of Freemasonry or some other secret society that actually run the world and should you respond to the ad you would never be seen again [no offence if anyone is in fact a Rosicrucian!]

Despite being almost compelled to sin cardinally every week by these small ads I somehow managed to keep my post office savings account intact and my tremulous soul too!

Did you respond readers? Did you send off any money?

BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND: BIRD IS THE WORD

Hello Woodsy

For interest, this is the basis of what I cooked.

Over the years I greatly increased the amount of preserve and mustard as the original is a Weight Watchers plan and I have a British sweet tooth. Also sweet potatoes are not as good as spuds! 

Have fun if anyone tries it. 

Enjoy the weekend, 

Terranova47

USA

BELLA'S SCOOBY DOOS

Hi Woodsy

Here is an item from Bella's Toy Chest, on the 50th Anniversary of Scooby Doo from 2019. Lots of Scooby Doo toys - a large plastic Mystery Machine van, and various figures. The figure of frightened Scooby even has pop-out eyes, which is totally nuts.

SCOOBY - DOOs 50th Birthday - YouTube

Another Scooby Doo item has more figures, and there is a very brief shot of a mug.

Scoob 2020 - YouTube

A word of warning, Bella is pretty rough when it comes to opening boxes. Some people may be reduced to tears.

Paul Adams from New Zealand

D E S O L A T E twisting

 

THANKSGIVING'S BIRD

Hello Woodsy

Your blog post THIS YEAR'S BIRD deserves a follow-up. 

Thursday was Thanksgiving, the one holiday all US citizens can agree on. 

As it's during COVID-19 when it's recommended that families do not travel from afar to get together, we are home just the two of us.

 No need for a full Turkey so this year it was a huge Turkey Breast with potatoes baked in a mix of Apricot Jam and Dijon Mustard. 

The attached photo is THIS YEAR'S BIRD or that part of it we need. 

Keep well, 

Terranova47

USA

DEAR SIR

Like many people of my age I used to write a lot of letters.

Growing up it was the only way to communicate with anyone beyond phoning them up, which wasn't always possible was it, not like today.

My first letters I suppose were love letters written on Valentines Days in the late Sixties, scribbled notes to young belles I gave my heart to. Most of these were in Leyland where I stayed with my older Sister Barb and her hubby Terry. I still have Valentine's letters written to me from back then! I'm not sure why we just didn't send cards but we didn't!

Next, my letter writing went commercial, when I started ordering stuff by mail order. Please Sir/ Madam, can you send me Hunky Dory by David Bowie! Somewhere I have the ad I responded to in Sounds music newspaper which my older Brother Eugene bought. 

Ellisdons in Liverpool was another favourite place to order stuff from. Dear Ellisdons, can you please rush me a Jivara Shrunken Head and a Restless Skeleton! Paul H. Compton got a lot of letters too when I became obsessed with King Fu and Asian fighting arts. I still have all the books I ordered in the early Seventies.

A few good models came my way as well, all ordered with a letter and a postal order. Samurai and orcs.

I remember a plastic petit typewriter I had and a proper metal one in my parent's home, which I messed around with too and typed a few missifs on, using Basildon Bond watermarked paper, which for some reason makes me think of the word vellum. My Mum and Dad had some personalised stationary too, which was all the rage back in the early Seventies.

True letter writing began when two things happened: I left my home town of Preston and I fell in love. both events occurred roughly at the same time and both required a lot of ink. Many people received letters from me during this period, friends, family members, pen pals and my girlfriend, who later became my wife! We must have written to each other every other day for a few years and being sad romantics we have each kept them all! Its a big stack I can tell you.

I also fired off a few communiques to people I admired like Al Pacino and Spike Milligan. Amazingly, I got a letter back from Spike!

From 1981 to about 1985 I also wrote to my Dad [My Mum had died in 1977].  I lived away and for some years abroad, so saw little of him during those years, just Christmas and when I visited. 

We wrote to each other a lot and I can see now in my mind's eye his beautifully formed hand-writing swirling across his letters like waves. My Dad was a clever bloke. He loved reading, he loved words and knew lost arts like Shorthand, which he used to help the smooth running of his Cash 'n' Carry warehouse during the Sixties and Seventies.

Sadly the early Eighties proved to be my old Dad's final years, as he too passed away, all too young, in 1986. 

After he died I found my letters too him. They were all in a bundle, neatly tied together with string inside his battered briefcase. I was very moved by this simplest of gestures and together with the letters he sent me, all saved, they formed an almost unbearably special memento between us. 

Alas, I have not had the courage to read them again since back then but, one day, I promise to do it for the bond of writing we shared, our mutual passion for words and the love we had for each other expressed best in those letters.

Perhaps in six years when I'll be the same age as him when he passed away, 66.

Did you write letters readers?

IT'S THE WOLF!

 

Remember this?

from 1969.

DID YOU DO JOBS AS A KID?

I didn't do much when I was a kid. I mean I didn't do much for my Mum and Dad at home. At least I don't remember helping much. My memory is terrible but I really hope that I did a few jobs now and then. I just don't know to be honest and it's something I regret if I didn't as my parents went too soon.

I think my lack of industry at home if that was the case would have been because I had older siblings at home who did stuff. There were always at least two older sibs throughout my life at home.

I do remember my Mum asking me to scratch her back with a backscratcher, which sounds a bit weird now I've written it. She had a bamboo one and a plastic horse headed one I think!

I remember washing up too and my older brothers whipping my bare legs with tea towels. They actually chased me to the top of the road where I hid in a phone box. I actually think I phoned my Dad to come and get me!

I also regret not having a paid job of any kind until I was 17, although I did work full time from that age and apart from studying have worked ever since.

I didn't have a paper round or anything like that. I remember doing a day's sweeping and stacking at my Dad's cash and carry warehouse, for which I was paid £100 and taxed by my Dad £99. I was so chuffed with the pound I ended up with!

Did you do jobs paid or unpaid when you were a kid?