My Pin Collection – 1

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This is post 1, but it is only a small selection of the pins that I’ve collected over the years.

L-R, Top to bottom: Supernatural’s Devil’s Trap, prison food, The Walking Dead’s Michonne, Supernatural’s Anti-Possession Symbol, Just one more episode, Star Labs from The Flash, piss me off, not nailed down, Harry Potter’s Hufflepuff House. (c)2017

L-R, Top to bottom: Green Lantern symbol, Free Comic Book Day Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Doctor Who’s The Tardis, Guardians of the Galaxy’s Groot, Batman, GOTG’s Groot, Green Lantern symbol, The Flash symbol, Doctor Who’s Starry Night Tardis. (c)2017


Clockwise: Green Lantern Emerald Warrior, Vote DC, Last Action Hero, MCA/Universal Home Video, T2 (Terminator 2: Judgment Day), RIP Superman. (c)2017

Fandom Merchandise and Where to Find It

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​As I look at my Christmas gifts, and my recent birthday gifts before that, I am struck, but not terribly surprised by how much relates to the variety of fandoms and pop culture things I am involved in. Many of these things have stayed with me since my teen years, to the point that I no longer participate, but they still hold an important place in my heart. The one example that comes to mind was my getting a new messenger bag: ThinkGeek’s Bag of Holding. It’s so glorious that I’ll be writing a separate review of it. My son was a little annoyed that I would be getting it – it was a little expensive, but with the thirty percent discount that was offered, it was well worth it. He was still a little annoyed and exclaimed, “You don’t even like Dungeons & Dragons!” I think I may have snorted. I was momentarily speechless.

I don’t like Dungeons & Dragons?! Do you even know me?! I had been playing Dungeons & Dragons since high school. In our school cafeteria, we would use the half-pint milk container as a six-sided die. Every weekend in college, we’d get together in the blue room to play. Dave, our DM (dungeon master) would not let us have any alcohol. We got stupid. We were probably the only group on a Saturday night not drunk. We would play all weekend, talking time only to sleep before the next night’s game.

I met my college roommate in a study hall through a conversation about character sheets.

My oldest son used my original books when he and his friends played Dungeons & Dragons.

Not a fan?! Harumph!

Glancing at The Walking Dead trivia box, the Hufflepuff necklace, the Supernatural zipper bag, the Star Trek 50th anniversary gold ornament with sound, I saw just how many fandom things there are, and I also realized how difficult it was to get some of them.

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Jack Larsen (1928-2015)

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He (as Jimmy Olsen) was probably one of my first exposures to writers writing for a living, and one of my childhood dreams – a journalist for a newspaper. It doesn’t seem that long ago even though it’s a million miles away.

A life well lived deserves a rest.

Rest in peace, Jack.

NY Times Article
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I’d like to share this tribute from actor, writer, playwright, and overall super human being, Jim Beaver:

I’ve been working on a biography of actor George Reeves for decades now. It’s what brought me to Hollywood, and it has been both an albatross about my neck and an enormous blessing, lo, these many years.

Chief among the blessings have been the people I met in the course of my research who became friends. And most certainly, chief among those friends was Jack Larson. Jack played Jimmy Olsen on Reeves’s SUPERMAN TV series in the 1950s, and it is for that iconic role that he will always be remembered. But he was much, much more than that. He was a playwright, the first ever to be given a Rockefeller Foundation grant. He was a librettist, creating the text to the great Virgil Thompson’s last opera, LORD BYRON. He knew EVERYBODY. His bosom friends and lovers included Montgomery Clift, Leslie Caron, James Dean, John Houseman, Christopher Isherwood, Salka Viertel, and Libby Holman, and, especially, director James Bridges, with whom Jack shared a life for 35 years. They lived in a Frank Lloyd Wright house in Brentwood, where they were neighbors of mine for many years. I would see Jack walking his beloved dogs daily, and we often stopped to chat.

I got to know Jack because he was a figure in the story of the subject of my book project, but when I think of him, I think of him as a friend. I had interviewed him once or twice without any particular connection arising, but the combined subsequent facts that I had plays produced at Actors Theatre of Louisville and had a fling with a staffer he knew well there (he was the Rockefeller Foundation’s scout for interesting playwrights at the time) led him to feel close to me. Indeed, for the next 35 years, he never failed to ask me how that girl from Louisville was, though I hadn’t seen her in years. I was enamored of him and fiercely envious of his style, his grace, his congeniality and his place among brilliant, thoughtful, fascinating people. Most of all, I appreciated his friendship and his abiding friendliness and good nature. I loved him. Not because he was Jimmy Olsen on my favorite childhood show. Indeed, I rather rarely think of him in that way. I loved him because he was everything a man ought to be – smart, kind, gentle, gracious, giving, talented, funny, and just damned nice.

I will miss him forever.

Jack Larson (1928-2015)