Book Review: "Superman: Sunday Classics 1939-1943"

The other book I read over our camping trip, this is a collection containing all of the Superman Sunday newspaper strips from 1939-1943 done by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster themselves (well, themselves or by their studio of artists). This book does not contain the daily strips, but that doesn't hurt the reading experience since the Sunday strips are completely separate story-wise from the dailies.

Superman was a very different guy back in the day, let me tell you. He was still the most powerful guy around; in all of the strips I don't think he himself is ever actually in physical danger. He is literally faster than a speeding bullet, though it's hard to say how fast he really is (the narration at one point says he is moving faster than the speed of light, but I think that was hyperbole). He's really strong, invulnerable, has his extra-sensory powers, but I have to admit I had to remind myself he can't fly. A lot of his poses look like flight, and only the narration and the fact he often observes people hanging from telephone poles and window sills gives away that he isn't flying. Based on the art I'm not surprised he eventually gained the power to fly, since he looks like he's doing it all the time instead of leaping tall buildings in a single bound.

At first I doubted how good these strips could be; how much dramatic story can you pull off in a single Sunday comic? I have to admit, Siegel and Shuster jam-packed their strips with content with amazing skill. These guys are like the anti-Bendis, getting important information out in as little space as possible. It doesn't feel forced though.

A standard story isn't done in a single Sunday strip though. Rather, we get to follow the story over the course of I'd say between 6-8 strips (I forgot to count). Superman isn't waging galactic battles or fighting to save the planet, he's helping the common man mostly. Outside of a group of men in armour (believed to be robots at first) and one super-powered foe (who was a real push-over, he had some crazy weakness), Supes spends his time taking on gangsters and mysteries. It was really refreshing. Lex Luthor did show up for one story, which was great to see.

I don't think anyone would call this Superman a boy scout. I admit, one of my favourite panels has Superman saving some potential drowning victims. He swims up to one, who is calling for help. Telling him it is for his own good, Superman decks the guy right in the face before saving him. A later panel says it was because he was thrashing about and panicking, and the guy bears Superman no ill-will, but man I laughed when Superman decked him.

I got a few other chuckles out of the book too. For example, while Superman is trying to help a race car driver who is getting targeted for death, the rival race car driver is none other than "Pete Parker". Alas poor Parker didn't survive the story.

While Superman battles valiantly to save civilians, those of the criminal persuasion die regularly. Some of them Superman could have saved if he wanted to, others he actually killed himself. A plane was waging an attack and Superman jumped up and piledrived the thing into the ground, smashing it into an accordion shape. No way the pilot survived that.

I really recommend checking this book out. I don't know if I'd read anything by Siegel and Shuster before, but man, they were good. I give this collection 4 tall buildings out of 5.

Book Review: "Crimes & Punishment: Life as a CFL Official"

While away on our anniversary this past week-end, I brought along "Crimes & Punishment: Life as a CFL Official" to read. I picked this book up while at Value Village awhile back, for the low low price of $2.99, and decided to give it a re-read.

The book is about the officiating story of Neil Payne, a long time CFL official. Payne has served many roles as a CFL official, everything from a "stick man" to an officials supervisor. He holds nothing back (or at least I hope he didn't!) in this tell-all book about the hidden world of officiating.

Payne tells various stories of the sacrifices and less-than-glamorous lifestyle of the CFL official. Staying in the cheapest hotels possible (he tells one story of a fellow official showing up at his regular budget saver to find it has been leveled to the ground), drinking with Polish sailors on their cargo ship, Payne paints quite the picture of the men in stripes.

I picked this book up because I myself am a sports official, though not in football. I am certified to officiate soccer and volleyball, but I figured there would be plenty of similarities anyway. Tough teams, tougher crowds, I could relate to a decent amount of the material, if on a much smaller scale.

I found that on my second read through I was able to keep all of the different officials he mentions throughout the book straight. Referees don't tend to be household names, so you really have to pay attention to who is doing what. I also found that some of his references would be lost on you if you are not a CFL fan (for example, he compared a woman hitting on him on a plane as "Chris Walby's bigger sister", or something along those lines). As this book is a few years old, Walby is one of the most recent CFL stars you will see Payne mention. If you're not familiar with CFL football, you will miss some of those references, as they are not all explained.

One of my favourite things about the book is Payne is actually from Winnipeg. Therefore a good number of his stories deal with the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, which I appreciate as a Bomber fan myself.

I did find that the book seemed to meander across different time periods in his career at times, but it didn't detract from my overall enjoyment of the book.

If you're a fan of the unseen world of pro sports, this book is great. Payne passes on things you never see or hear about on the news or in the paper. However, if you are not a CFL football fan, I'm not sure how much enjoyment you would get from the book.

3.5 Flags on the Play out of 5. Repeat 1st down.

Anniversary

So today is our 2 year wedding anniversary. To celebrate this year, we spent 3 days camping in the Whiteshell. I would say it was a good anniversary.

We stayed at the Otter Falls provincial campground. It's a fairly small campground, at least in comparison to Hecla or St. Malo. The sites aren't as private as the aforementioned campgrounds, but we had chosen a site that only had a neighbouring site on one side. When we picked the site we didn't realize we were right next to the road either.

Would we go back to Otter Falls? Maybe. What the campground has going for it is the fact it is literally right on Margaret Lake. You can actually book a site that is directly on the water. So if you like to fish you can fish from your campsite. If you're a boater, you can pull your boat right up to your tent! And some of those sites actually had a small sand beach right off of them; if you are there with kids you can watch them swim while making dinner!

One highlight for me was our canoe trip. We rented a canoe and tooled around on the lake, and I really enjoyed it. Unlike Lake Winnipeg, the lakes in the Whiteshell are a little...calmer, and less unpredictable. I was a little surprised that I could rent a canoe without even giving my name; the Otter Falls Resort (next to the campground) rents out the canoes, and seriously, they took my money and rented us the canoe without taking a name, phone number, or credit card. We could have just loaded it on top of our car and drove away (but we didn't, just to be clear!). Had we rented a powerboat they would have taken our name (since they were going to record my Pleasure Craft Operator's license info)

We played games, had naps, ate some good camping food, and spent the whole time together. It was a great anniversary. I love you babe!

World Cup Blues

I have to admit, I really wasn't interested in the recently completed World Cup. I absolutely love to play soccer, and I play a decently-sized part in the organization of soccer in the Interlake, but watching the pros do their thing didn't really interest me.

There are two reasons I was not interested in the tournament. The first is, well, Canada isn't in it. It is very rare for me to watch any type of sporting event that I have no emotional interest in. I don't usually watch a CFL game unless the Blue Bombers are one of the teams competing. I rarely watch NHL hockey unless the Pittsburgh Penguins are playing. And so on. So having no team to cheer for was kind of a downer.

Possibly the greater reason, however, is the proclivity of "diving" in professional soccer. It seems that anytime an opponent gets near, the other player hits the dirt writhing in agony. They are trying to draw a penalty against the opposing team, and it is completely lacking any kind of sportsmanship.

Athletes in other sports embellish injuries too, I have no doubt about that. But soccer has gotten beyond ridiculous; the sheer number of incidents per game is enough to really turn me off the professional game. As a coach I would never teach my players something like that and I don't want them to learn that behaviour either.

I really hope Fifa does something to crack down on this, because if they really want soccer to take root in North America, it has to be dealt with. There are already tools in place that could easily be used to combat this problem. For example, they could designate a video replay official who reviews any injury to determine whether the player was actually touched or not. It would not slow down the game because the game has already stalled because the player is rolling around the field in "agony". Pretty simple solution for a problem that even FIFA has admitted they have.

Most Beloved

One of my hobbies is writing, and this week-end I threw this together. I've been a contributor at the Tales of the Parodyverse message board for many years now, and one of the regulars posted this picture of one of his characters. It's such a beautiful piece I had to write something to go with it. I don't know how hard this will be to follow for those not "in the know", but I figured what the heck, I'd post it here anyway just for fun.

Most Beloved

It was not clear what awoke Magweed that clear fall morning, the gulls circling her lighthouse home or the sunlight tickling her face through the open window. Irregardless of the source, the young girl awoke and sat up in her bed, arms stretched high and wide to stir her muscles back to activity.

With her stronger right leg she kicked the down comforter away and, bracing herself with her good arm, swung herself so her bare feet dangled over the side of the bed. She rea ched out to grasp for her cane before sliding down to the floor.

She quietly made her way to the wash basin in her bathroom. A splash of water across her pale green face helped to chase the last of the sandman's influence away. She found an elastic band and pulled her long brown hair away from her face, a few stray wisps escaping confinement.

With her hair secure, she padded back into her bedroom. She began to go through her closet, looking for something to wear. She quickly decided on a pair of comfortable dark jeans and a pair of white and pink socks. After a few more minutes of perusal, she settled on a tan t urtleneck.

The young girl then pulled on her favourite sweater vest, made special for her by her auntie Kerry's friend Samantha. It was green and yellow, modeled after her father's penchant for a green sweater and yellow overcoat. When she wore it she felt like her father was always with her, protecting her.

While she was dressed, Magweed was still far from ready to leave her room. She was born with a frail arm and leg, and they were not strong enough to support her without help. Friends of her father's had designed for her a set of special braces that would not only help her get around, but also build up her strength so that one day she would have no need of them.

She started with the arm brace; without it she lacked the strength to properly fasten the one for her leg. It had taken her weeks before she was able to don the braces without help, but now that she had mastered them she was determined to never need help to use them ever again.

Maggie fastened the last strap of her leg brace and stood up, this time without the aid of the cane. She took a moment to get used to the padded metal embracing her limbs, then stepped through her bedroom door.

It was still very early, and she did not want to wake any of the other occupants in the house. Her brother's room was next to hers, the door wide open. She imagined that the wind must have blown it open through the night, as the young boy inside usually slept with the door partially shut. Griffin was tangled in his covers again, his bare feet sticking out from the mass of fabric. He often dreamed of fantastic battles as a mythical griffin and more than once had actually thrashed his way out of his bed onto the hardwood floor below, and Maggie reasoned he had had such a dream again. She smiled at that; Griffin loved dreaming of flying, so he had told her.

The room with the biohazard symbol on the door belonged to her auntie Kerry, who was the legal ward of her father and also his sister by adoption. While Kerry would never hurt Maggie, the young girl had learned quickly that if she wished to enter the room, she was to knock, then hide around the corner to be sure no stray explosions made their way out of the room when the door opened. After that it was safe. Mostly.

The last door before the stairs belonged to her father, Visionary. To many his name seemed odd, even peculiar with his lack of a surname, but to the fairy princess who was born t o two mothers, one of extraterrestrial origin and the other a sophisticated computer system, the peculiar was rather ordinary. Most of her family had no last name, though she herself had two. While she went by Magweed, her birth name was actually Naari, which in the Caphan language of her mother translated to “most beloved in all the world”.

Taking special care not to wake her father, Maggie crept down the stairs of the lighthouse. She lacked the stealth of her brother Griffin, but she still did her best. One day she would n ot have the leg brace weighing her down, clacking against the wooden steps.

Once Maggie reached the ground level she made her way outside. She loved the outdoors, especially early in the morning. Her home on Parody Island allowed her to feel like she was away from the technological bustle of the city and one with nature. Having grown up in Faerie, modern technology was something she was still adjusting to.

As she made her way down the cobblestone path to the island's shore, animals began to gather around her. A robin perched itself on her shoulder, and field mice frolicked at her feet. As she approached the water several fish signaled their greeting by leaping above the waves, the morning sun gleaming on their scales.

When her friends were around the animals were not as open with her, as they were frightened by those who did not understand them. But in the early morning, with a salty breeze w histling through her hair and the human and humanoid occupants of the island tucked into their beds, she could get out and spend time with her feathered, furred, and finned friends in peace.

And thus Princess Magweed, Naari of the House of Visionary, most beloved in all the world, gave that love back, one tiny friend at a time.