September 14, 2004
Your Tastes are Your Tastes

   Random Acts of Kindness Dept.: Two weeks ago, I had made reference to the fact that I no longer have a copy of Birds of Prey # 8. I usually keep at least one copy of everything I've worked on, and since that issue sold out rapidly and I accidentally gave away my last copy, I thought I was out of luck. Until I received an unexpected package from a friend, John Q. Adams. I had no idea what was enclosed, as he's sent me lots of cool stuff over the years. Lo and behold, a bagged and boarded copy of B.O.P. # 8! Below is the note he enclosed (I blocked out his phone # and address since it was a private note. But check out www.silverfishgallery.com (his site devoted to over 300 professional comic artist's representation of, well, silverfish!).
 
   I've been asked by friends to share some of my recommendations for music, books, comics, TV, etc. in my blog. Much as it would easily fill a blog or three with such fluff, I have no enthusiasm about doing so. I feel it would be a boring exercise if I were trying to push my tastes on you.

   Okay, I'll do a trial run to show you why I feel this way:

   I can't get enough of "One All", last year's CD by former Crowded House frontman Neil Finn. Soon as I finish it, I can go back to track one and listen all the way through again. Whether it's solo Finn or Crowded House, I find that his brooding pop sensibilties really touch something in me.

   Now, what do I expect you to do with that info? Rush out and buy it? If you couldn't care less about Crowded House, you're not likely to try it. If you think Crowded House sucks, then I may have diminished myself in your eyes, gentle reader. "Can we trust someone with such crappy tastes to ink Captain America, who represents our nation's ideals?"

   Sorry, the election season's making me a tad nutty. The hurricane season's already made me nutty. I'm just all about the nutty lately!

   Now for the flipside: I think Elvis Costello ran out of good songs after releasing his first greatest hits in 1984. Greatest Hits compilations have that effect on some purchasers like myself. Even if it's a solid collection of songs, the new material will be forever compared to the early material when the artist was young, angry and hungry. Now Elvis hams it up with Burt Bacharach. In my opinion, it hasn't legitimised Burt so much as it's made Elvis a sad former punk who aspires to introduce a new generation to elevator music.

   In the end, I feel that nobody really cares what I like, unless it's something they also like. That's human nature. What drives me nuts on message boards (human nature at it's worst on occasion) is when someone adds a lengthy list of their top 20 comics to the bottom of their every post. Who cares? There's a fanboy conceit that insists if a comic is cancelled, it's because it was ' too intelligent' for the great unwashed with thier plebeian tastes. I loved X-Statix, but I'm over it.

   Your tastes are your tastes, and I can't change it. Ever insist on loaning a CD or DVD to a friend and wait months only to find they never heard/saw it? I've been on the other end, letting a loaned item take up residence next to my rolodex and the CD's I really want to hear.

   One of the scariest incidents I've had where someone tried to vigorously impose their mania on me occurred in the early ' 90's. Remember the TV show Twin Peaks? Movie director David Lynch had created a show that was quirky, dark and audatious. This kind of television was not very common back then. This was even pre-X-Files, let alone Buffy and Angel. Surprisingly, it caught on like wildfire, converting new fans each week, making darkness downright mainstream!

   It was the first time, to my limited knowledge of such things, that a new kind of television viewing habit had begun. Twin Peaks started the if-you've-missed-the-first-episode-you'll-already-be-hopelessly-lost storyline format. Rabid fans would frantically try to convert friends, family and co-workers, by loaning videotapes of previous episodes to catch other potential viewers up to speed. It worked. In short time, Twin Peaks became the unlikely hot new show everybody either saw or knew about.

   Twin Peaks' rapid popularity was eventually it's downfall, as most 'overnight-smash hit' shows can't sustain the elevated expectations placed upon it. I think it only lasted two or three seasons. After it's cancellation, Lynch prepared work on a movie version named Twin Peaks:Fire Walk With Me.

   Okay, back to me. Remember me, the guy who's name is sandwiched between a www and a dot-com? I'm at my local comic store where I routinely loitered after making my weekly purchases, jawing it up with the store manager. One of the customers who joined in kept hijacking the conversation, directing it back to Twin Peaks, and the manager and I casually wrangled it back to our previous subject. By now, the Twin Peaks movie had just been released theatrically for two weeks. This Peaks fan had already paid to see it three times, but at the third viewing, he had snuck in his video recorder, taped the movie, then watched it at home two more times. All in two weeks' time. I made the mistake of finally, matter-of-factly stating "I never watched Twin Peaks." His eyes widened in disbelief (to a size I hadn't seen outside of a Tex Avery cartoon).

   "Why not?", he gaped. I hemmed and hawed, something about missing out from the beginning and it's over anyway, so...
   "Oh, but you must! I have all the shows..."
   "I appreciated it, but I don't want you to make a special trip home to get them..."
   "No, I have them here!" He opened his backpack, and without delay, brandished Twin Peaks Tape One at me. His face had a disturbed, solicitous mien.
   "Look, I really don't devote a lot of time to TV viewing.", my voice became gingerly and measured, like a preacher talking a jumper off a ledge. I may have self-consciously stepped back a pace or two.
   "Look, take the first season then!", he cajoled while unloading more tapes from his bottomless backpack.

   What struck me as odd was the sense I had that these were his only copies, and that he would entrust them to me, a virtual stranger. I could've taped The Simpsons over them for all he'd know.

   I finally broke, exclaiming "NO, NO, NO!", in a now-strident tone usually reserved for puppy paper-training.

   Then, like a puppy, he slumped his shoulders down, dejected and confused, possibly thinking: "Why won't this bad man watch my favorite TV show and we could be friends forever and live in a beach house like The Monkees did..."

I did a "Look at the time, I'm late for sumpin'-or-other!" pantomime and made a beeline out of there. I had to restrain myself from fishtailing my car out of the parking lot.

   The End. And now, a word from our sponsor:

   Chris and I have added four new entries in the Rarities section of the site. I've been meaning to expand both that and the Pencil-to-Ink Studies with reprints of my previously-published Sketch Magazine articles. Eventually...

   Time to flip the Open sign to Closed, turn the chairs up on the table, sweep the floor, dim the lights and go home.
 
To be continued...
 
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