Fridays At Ralph’s Pool 1

I’m going to start this story off backwards. I just discovered these negatives and figured out these were taken during the heyday of “Fridays.” Marvel’s remarkable Summer Hours!

Publishing History: The newspaper and print moguls of the turn of the previous century made a lot of money. (This was before income tax. I know… but there really was such a time… (imagine some dreamy, harp music… )!) They worked in the print capital of the world, New York City, but they wished to get away from the noise and the bustle… they all went to a stretch of natural beauty on the nearby shores of Connecticut. Which was only one to two hours away by car or even private train…

Now you guys know how it is—you have the weekend, you want to maximize the amount of fun time and minimize the amount of travel time. There’s only so many hours in a weekend—hey, waitaminnit! Those Captains of Industry ARE the time determiners, they can stretch the weekend to… well, to some of Friday.

And so it was. The publishers and owners would scoot off to frolic in swimming pools of champagne and feast on shrimp the size of dogs and dogs the size of … well… no man may say…

Then the rot set in. Second tier management just could not manage. It was the higher ups’ decision making that kept the various empires spinning like a top. While the leaders were away, nothing got done, everything went to seed. So, in an act of magnate magnanimity that is still unmatched, they gave everybody half of Friday off.

How this head-shaking-with-disbelief gesture found its way to Marvel Comics, I cannot say. It could be as simple as the guy who owned the whole shootin’ match that was Marvel—Martin Goodman—had a palatial retreat on the Gold Coast and he felt his regal obligation to the commoners.

Which would be us Bullpenners (never mind Legal, Marketing, Bookkeeping or the Mail Room)! Because of that odd twitch of noblesse oblige, we got to go off to our hovels and eat our thin gruel with crusts of bread a couple of hours early.

Except for the intervention of one man: Ralph Macchio.

Ralph Macchio, Editor and reticent writer. As disciplined an editor as Ralph was and as sought-after as well as accomplished a writer as he was, he sure didn’t do that much. Why, one might say he was lazy.

Here’s Ralph, taken around 1991. The best way to sum up Ralph is the anagram of his name that our mutual pal, Mark Gruenwald, figured out: “rich macho pal.” And of course, that only scratches the surface. Ralph himself was not rich but he had quite a bit of machismo. One thing he surely did have was the openness to share his family’s home. He allowed us to troop out to his Mother’s home in the wilderness of New Jersey and use the pool!

Ahhh, but how to get there. Enter one Jack Morelli, Letterer par excellence! As a good Brooklyn lad, he had a giantmobile, a 1976 Ford Elite. With plenty of room inside for 15-16 people with room to spare. On this day, he was driving up the laggards who could not travel with Ralph. Ralph, as it turns out, commuted each day by car. That car? Why just big enough for The Bandit—it was a Firebird TransAm. Yep, right out of Smokey and the Bandit, Ralph’s favorite movie. Also, Mark Gruenwald would stuff us into his trusty, rusty brownish-green or greenish-brown Dodge Dart and transport us out to Ralph’s pool.

As I mentioned up front, I’m telling this story backwards. These pics were taken roughly in 1985. I am pretty sure it was about 1990 that Marvel roused from its generosity-induced torpor and reminded itself it was a corporation that was run by bean counters. Super bean counters! And did away with so-called “summer hours.”

When I start the story over from the beginning, it will show us as very young people… Alright, even though this is in the “middle” we’re still all pretty darn young.

Mike Carlin, not sure if he’s Mark’s Assistant or on his own Editorship here. Jack at the wheel and the decorous hand of Lisa Hachedoorian, Freelancer Extraordinaire. This gigantic interior is enhanced by my relatively new 17mm super-wide-angle lens.

All one had to do is make sure Mike knew he was in front of a camera. Then stand back.

You’ll Believe An Assistant Editor Can Fly! Or Editor, just not sure. Either way, one of our favorite activities was donning a towel-as-cape and seeing how well we could fly off the diving board.

Mike showed us the flat-hand flying method popularized by the great George Reeves. Yes; we really did categorize things like that. We also tried the one-fist-back style of Christopher Reeves (no relation). And the double-forward-fist of Kirk Allen.

You’ll Believe—ah, never mind. Mike clings to the damned inner tube. We did endless Butt Dives and many variations over the years. What are Butt Dives? Simple—you send the float out a comfy distance, jump up and land rear end first. No surprise to those who know him, they were an invention of Mark’s. 180 Butt Dives, 360 Butt Dives, Double to Quadruple Stack Butt Dives, Hanging Butt Dives (head first, grab with your bent feet and pull it under), Series Butt Dives and Limited Series Butt Dives, Rapid-Fire Butt Dives, Long Distance Butt Dives, Super-Hero Of Choice Butt Dives… (I know the question at the forefront of your Butt Dive minds—did Anne ever do a Butt Dive? She was a collegiate swim team diver and once in a while would cleave the water with nary a ripple. But Annie is far too dignified to have done such a thing. On the other hand, Lisa did ‘em all the time.)

Pool-side antics! L-R Ralph, ahem, Editor Raf, Senior Editor Special Projects Bob Budiansky, Writer/Creator Peter Gillis (who has of late taken to adding a middle name Peter Benno Gillis; Pete was the other unsung genius (Peter Sanderson being the other) of comics, theorizing and philosophizing epic story lines and character backgrounds… which kind’a sounds like I’m describing the Marvel Universe encyclopedic effort. And I am, both Peters were instrumental in advising and consenting that tome’s content along with Mark Gruenwald. Of personal note, when I as tech illustrator needed either background info, these guys could summon everything needed; further, they could deliver up the most perfect image reference. Often only one image did it.), Editor Bob Harris way in the back of the triple-head line-up, Jack getting a towel full from Mike, Lisa Hach then Mark Gru with the towel in front of him and finally Editrix Extraordinaire Annie Nocenti. That’s the sitting run down—standing is lean-as-a-bean Mike Carlin!

Pretty much the same shot as above but now Mike looks like he’s poorly hiding.

From the opposite end of the Macchio Family Pool—a kidney-shaped pool or a pool-shaped kidney—Raf is doing the Reverse Namor Leap and Jack, with his back to us, appears to be winding up for a towel-snap.

From my point of view, I gave up at this point. There’s no more on the roll of film. Usually I do shoot more but this is almost all of it. There are a couple of blurred shots that don’t bear releasing.

This is, indeed how we blew off steam after a long week of struggle. Even during the 24-hour-a-day times of Marvel Universe, we would come here and often return to the office—sometimes that day or Saturday.

On this day, I am sure we went to Ralph’s favorite little restaurant in the area, Pero’s! It really was nice—my memory of it was a thousand wine jugs hanging from the ceiling and a neat dish of ziti.

The next installment of this backwards story will be in color!