Comic book writer-editor Bill Harris died January 8 at the age of 84. Harris started and ended his career in the field of advertising and promotion, moving from company to company for many years. When he secured a post doing promotional work for Dell Publishing, he took a special interest in their comic book line and wound up moving into editorial work on it. That meant leaving Dell and going to work for Western Publishing, which produced Dell's comic book line until 1962. (If anyone isn't clear on the relationship between Western, Dell and Gold Key, I explained it here.)

Harris continued working for Western. He was proudest of his editorial work on Western's Bullwinkle comics and of his writing work on the comic starring Lee Falk's classic character, The Phantom. In 1966 when the King Features newspaper syndicate attempted to start their own line of comics, Bill was hired as editor of its small list of titles which included Flash Gordon, Mandrake the Magician, The Phantom, Blondie, Beetle Bailey and Popeye. The line was not successful, lasting a little over a year and while Bill briefly did editorial work for Warren's Creepy and Eerie, he did not work much more in comics. Most of his career thereafter was spent working in the promotional department of the New York Times.

One of his innovations when he was in comics was that he was one of the first editors to recognize that there was a promotional value in comic book fanzines. Many of the early zines of the sixties featured letters from Bill, telling fandom what would be forthcoming in the comics he edited. Few others in comics at the time saw any value in that but Harris predicted correctly the growing impact that fanzines and comic conventions would have on the field. For that and for writing some pretty good Phantom comics, he certainly deserves to be remembered.

I'm going to date myself here: When I started collecting comic books, there was absolutely no investment potential in them. New comics sold for ten cents. Once one was no longer new, the only place it would be sold was in a second-hand book shop and there, the going price was usually a nickel and most stores would sell you six for twenty-five cents.

In the mid-sixties, a soon-to-be-thriving market for old issues began to thrive. Shops and dealers began to sell old comics for more than their face value. I remember being up at Cherokee Books up on Hollywood Boulevard where its impresario Burt Blum would fan out a "poker hand" of five mint condition copies of Superman #1 he had for sale. I think they were twenty bucks apiece and that seemed outrageous at the time.

There was vast interest in old comics and most of the collectors I knew were way more interested in the content of the books, as opposed to their investment potential. Still, it was easier to rationalize spending money on what some then called "junk" if the "junk" you were buying was going up in value. Then again, I used to get annoyed when people thought that was the sole reason I was buying 'em.

I had a truly-impressive collection in my bedroom when I was fourteen or so — one whole wall had a bookcase that was filled with old comics. When my parents had visitors over, it was somehow required that the guests go in and see what Mark had. Almost invariably, the comment I heard was, "Wow, you should open a store!" They probably thought I was nuts when I'd reply, "I don't want to sell them. I want to read them."

Sometimes, I'd say, "I will never sell my comic collection" — a vow I kept for close to half-a-century. Actually, somewhere along the way, I modified it to "I will never sell my comic collection unless I really need the money" and I never really needed the money. But eventually, I needed the space and I realized it had been, literally, more than a decade since I'd looked at any of them. When I wanted to revisit an old issue, I almost always had some recently-published reprint that was easier and safer to handle and maybe even had better reproduction. There are also scans of many of them on my computer here.

What I loved about them was the content, not so much the physical (deteriorating) paper…so I turned a lot of them over to an auction house and they are now residing in someone else's collection, in some cases probably "slabbed" for future resale.

As I'm writing this, it dawns on me that I sold off most of the comic books in these photos about the same time I sold the house in which these photos were taken. It would be ironic if I'd gotten close to the same money for the comics as I did for the house but I didn't. However, if I'd bought even one of those first issues of Superman from Burt Blum back in 1967, I would have gotten more for the comics.

I don't want to scare you but any day now, robots could be making your pizza…

If you ever want to hear from half the people you ever met, just guest on Gilbert Gottfried's Amazing Colossal Podcast. Yow. They're going to have me back soon so maybe then I'll hear from the other half.

Well, the shutdown's over — for now. Hope you enjoyed it because they're going to rerun this thing more often than A Charlie Brown Christmas. But it's nice that they're no longer arguing over what the deal should be and are instead arguing over which party screwed the other. I am reminded of an animation studio that I stopped working for. My lawyer, who twice had to go to them and explain their own contracts to them, once said "They aren't interested in a deal that leaves both sides happy. They only want the deal that leaves their side happy and other side, crying, humiliated and begging for mercy."

Went to see my fave local musical group Big Daddy performing last night and boy, were they great. They had a lot of new material even though everyone in the place would have been quite satisfied with the old stuff. I won't tip any of the new mash-ups but I'll never be able to hear Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" again without thinking of what Big Daddy did to it.

Coming soon to this blog: An article about why my support for the #MeToo movement is growing and so is my belief that Woody Allen is innocent.

I recorded my interview for Gilbert Gottfried's Amazing Colossal Podcast some time ago and I'm listening to it now. Why did I say that Allan Melvin was the voice of Droopalong on the Ricochet Rabbit cartoons? I know darned well that Mel Blanc was the voice of Droopalong on the Ricochet Rabbit cartoons.

That's Gilbert Gottfried, one of the funniest people on this hemisphere — and who knows? He may be equally funny on the other hemisphere. I haven't bothered to check. Each week, he and his co-host Frank Santopadre bring us Gilbert Gottfried's Amazing Colossal Podcast. They've been doing this for some time and it's really an amazing and colossal podcast that I always enjoy.

Usually they have as their guests the Great and the Near-Great. I guess no one in either group was available because this week their guest is me.

My favorite day last year may have been September 19. On that evening, a bunch of us filled the Goldwyn Theater at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in Beverly Hills — more than a thousand lovers of great cartoons and of a great cartoon voice actress convened to celebrate the life and times of June Foray. We wanted to do it the evening before but the theater was booked. The evening before would have placed it on her 100th birthday.

It was a helluva lot of work but I'm still hearing from people who'll say it was an experience they'll never forget. Alas, I'm also still hearing from people who are pissed that they weren't there and/or on stage. I've been telling them, "If we let everyone who loved June get up there, we'd still be there" and now, months later, that may still be true. I even have one person who says he reads this blog all the time, somehow didn't know about the event and is upset that I didn't call and tell him about it. Well, you all saw how infrequently I mentioned it here.

And I have people who want to know when a video of the whole thing will be posted so they can watch it. Answer: Never. The evening contained too many cartoons and videos that we don't have the right to put online…but we may be posting some clips from the speeches.

What you can watch below is a slightly-abridged version of what was projected on the screen that evening as everyone came in and took their seats. It ran in a loop over and over but there was so much happy conversation and hugging in that room, even a lot of the attendees didn't get the chance to view it. Now, they can. You'll need to take this full screen to see everything…

Yes, it's a beautiful Sunday…a day when everything is open except the banks, Chick-fil-A and the United States government. Guess which of these is not likely to be open tomorrow.

The news tells me that Chief-o'-Staff John Kelly is negotiating on behalf of the White House — and why not? It's not like we have a president who's experienced at negotiations.

Meanwhile, the Democrats and Republicans seem to be arguing about whether to call it the Trump Shutdown or the Schumer Shutdown…and that's about all they seem to be arguing about. Hey, they can call it the Evanier Shutdown if that'll move them on to actually settling this thing. Last I heard, the only proposal out there was something like how we will build Trump's border wall but only if DACA kids do it. Maybe I misheard.

For me, the fascinating guy to watch during all is Republican Senator Lindsey Graham, who seems to be kissing Trump butt and telling him he's the greatest prez ever on even-numbered days and treating him like a moron on odd-numbered days. What's more, he seems to be getting away with this.

Today, he also went after Trump's creepiest aide saying "As long as Steven Miller is in charge of negotiating immigration we are going no where. He's been an outlier for years." Miller's the kind of guy who back in high school, ran for Student Body President on a platform of "More homework, fewer proms" and got one vote, counting his own.

I hear that despite the shutdown, the Grand Canyon is still open. When I was seven or so, there was an item on the news that the Grand Canyon would be closed for a few days for some reason and I wondered if that meant men with shovels had to go out and fill it in — and then when it was open again, they had to go back and dig it out. That sounded like a lot of work…but how else do you "close" a huge hole in the ground? At the age of seven, that made a certain amount of sense…about as much as this whole shutdown does today.

I go on Facebook about five times a day, increasingly with mixed feelings. I've sometimes made joyous connections (and reconnections) with people through that system and I've read informative articles and discussions. Fine. Now, here comes the mixed part…

I don't know if it's me getting older or our intraspecies dialogue growing coarser. Most likely, it's both…but I'm getting increasingly dismayed at vitriol, insults and outright anger. I sometimes even feel that people are being too nasty to Donald Trump, a man I think is seriously harming this country and its citizens. He is also, I believe, responsible for a large chunk of this coarseness…or maybe just for making it more socially acceptable to let it out.

Please note that I am not trying to deny anyone's Right to Free Speech here — but mine includes the right to say I think someone's being rude or hostile or even — and this is often the case — that they're being so hysterical as to kill all possibilities of actual, valuable discussion. Free speech certainly includes my right to absent myself from forums that I think have just devolved into screaming matches…or at least have ceased to be constructive in any way. At some point, many of them just become about some Wanna-Be Alpha Male (even if it's a female) trying to "win" by shouting down or driving away everyone else.

I understand and can rationalize a certain amount of the hysteria with regard to politics, where there may be genuine, reasonable fears that a given person or action will get us all killed, destroy our planet and/or health insurance, raise our taxes, etc. I am stunned though at the sheer hatred I see out there for certain movies, celebrities, athletes, musicians…even comic books. Sometimes, I see what feels like actual loathing towards someone who has committed no wrong greater than simply being annoying on television and I think, "You know, you can make Billy Eichner totally disappear from your world by changing the channel."

In most cases, I leap to the assumption — perhaps unfairly but often accurately, I think — that the person who is livid at some TV host or comic book artist is actually just mad about his or her own life. There is no anger in this world like self-anger but often, angry people are in deep denial that that's what they're railing against.

In online forums, I find myself in two kinds of discussions and I've come to think of them as Real Discussions and Cockfights. The "Cockfights" label works on two levels because those arguments are about as hysterical and meaningful as two roosters trying to peck each other's eyes out, and also because those battles have a lot to do with virtual genital size.

In a Real Discussion, the participants genuinely want to hear what each other has to say. I've been in or witnessed some great Real Discussions since I got my first modem — discussions that have informed me, changed my mind about things, entertained me, given me new ways to look at things…

In a Cockfight, all that matters is who wins — or more accurately, who can claim victory, if only to himself. There are some people who, when they enter a Real Discussion, simply have to turn it into a Cockfight. That's when I know it's time to get out because that thread ain't going anywhere.

It won't have any more substance to it than…well, a Cockfight. I would never venture anywhere near the real kind, the kind involving actual birds. I'm going to try harder to avoid the kind I sometimes encounter on Facebook. Like the real kind, they always end with both sides bloodied…and even the winner doesn't have a lot of feathers left.

I've written much here about the Los Angeles-based improv troupe The Black Version and gone to see them many a time. Here's a piece about them and about the state of improv in L.A., especially involving actors of color.

The Black Version is performing tonight at the Brava Theater in San Francisco as part of the SF Sketchfest series. Then they're performing Monday, January 29 at the Groundlings Theater in L.A. and on Saturday, April 14 at the Largo at the Coronet, also in my fair city. I have seen acres of improvisational comedy in my life and it doesn't get any better than these folks.

• Right now, there are people in countries Trump called shitholes who are thinking, "Yeah, but our government is still functioning!"

Last week, Amber and I went to dinner with our two friends: Chanteuse extraordinaire Shelly Goldstein and her husband, filmmaker Brendan Foley. We went to Benihana, which is one of Amber's favorite places to dine and mine, as well.

I was reminded of a time many years ago when Sergio Aragonés and I were guests at a comic convention in Texas and we went to dinner at a Benihana with our friend and editor, Archie Goodwin. Sergio, who cooks almost as well as he cartoons, kept asking questions of our chef and our chef kept showing him how this was done and how that was done…and by the end of the cooking process, Sergio was preparing the food under rather minimal supervision from the chef. I wasn't sure which one of them to tip so, of course, I tipped neither.

Amber loves Benihana Fried Rice and that evening along with her entree, she consumed two bowls of it, plus I got her one to go. I suspect she's just hanging around me for the fried rice. Here we see a Benihana chef teaching someone who's not quite as fast a learner as Sergio how to make it…

I need to make some technical adjustments to this blog and I'll be making them in the next few days. There might come a brief time when it will be unavailable or where a few recent messages may temporarily disappear.

Also: As some of you may know, I've maintained the website and blog of my good pal Steve Gerber since he passed away in 2008. I will continue to maintain the blog indefinitely even though no one has posted on it in something like sixteen months. Things over there require more severe maintenance and so at some point, it may be offline for a few weeks. Fear not. It shall return.