Of all the holiday time things that I remember, it was Virginia Romita’s determined Christmas decorating that inspired one to be bad…
Virginia was Fantabulous Creator Storyteller Inker Non Pariel John Romita, Senior’s wife. Virginia knew a thing or two about a thing or two when it came to whomping up a comic art schedule. Virginia had been walloping John’s art for a few decades before John came on-staff as Art Director. So when it came time to create the Traffic Director position, she was a natural with no equal.
Thus it was Virginia who established the well-known monthly schedule of comic writing and art creation and when it is to show up at the office. Turns out she was dead wrong in all of this, as anyone who meets me for the first time will be ranted at: the nasty secret of comics is that it takes 6 weeks to make a monthly book. I would tell this to everyone – ah-heh, except Virginia.
To place this image, this handsome cardstock Santa with his gadabout mules, was right outside Robbie’s office. Which was about 8 linear feet from mine. Of course this was the old 575 Madison Ave editorial offices. About 1980.
As noted above, the way anyone could tell it was right after Thanksgiving, was to run into Christmas decorations all over the place. Well, when Virginia made her way all the way back to Robbie and my part of the Marvel Universe, it was a Christmas under fire!
Tech note: this was a time exposure! Which did not work out as I’d pictured it in my mind. This may have captured 5 or 6 of the dozen bombs I planted. It also explains the brilliant lighting– this was a dismal turn in the hall just outside Robbie’s office and kinda dim.
Robbie and I were horrified to see this Santa sleigh with artfully added red ribbon—staring back at us over our coffee and donuts. Those huge glistening eyes boring into our souls—too much!
It may have been December but who among us has not put aside some fireworks just in case of the need during the rest of the year? So I installed some fire crackers, set up the camera and started lighting fuses.
The sharp-eyed of you might see some scorch marks on the wall and a missing reindeer position. Or parts of reindeer blown away.
The funny thing about this all—it took place before lunch one day. No one came back to check on loud explosive bangs. That’s my Marvel! Also never heard back from Virginia…
We never knew WHAT would be found in those dark back hallways and rooms at 575. Even… normal decorations!!!
(And Santa was pretty good, dodging incoming missiles…)
Good questions. Elicited Rick’s inimitable combo of tongue-in-cheek cool and wholehearted affection.
I blame that on my son, Nick and Arlene his mom– she and I knew Rick when he was merely a prolific letterer and sometime museum curator (his own!). Nick met him in person only recently but got the sense that some of my stories about Rick might be true after all… The affection is hard to conceal! Thank you, by the way!