[From The Phantom Freighter, Hardy Boys Mystery Stories No. 26]

It is perhaps only in this light, clouded by memory, that a merchandise-driven, outsourced, overseas-animated program could inspire this.  I remember thinking at the time that the show was mostly there to showcase all the cool things the masks could do, for when I played with the toys.  That the program M.A.S.K. was in some ways little more than a commercial seems so readily apparent, now.  The fog of marketing has cleared.

But of course, it hasn’t.  Maybe only the toys have changed; of course I’m still the exuberant target of clever salesmanship.

Maybe most curious of all, though, is being so passionately fond of it all.  The texture that was absent in the cartoons themselves is provided by the reflections upon them, layering themselves, youtubes on top of ebay purchases on top of reminiscent conversations with peers on top of the recollection of somehow arranging it so that I was allowed to set up a little t.v. in the bathroom, so I could watch M.A.S.K. from the bathtub.

As a young person I read The Poky Little Puppy to the point the book’s cover fell off.  It was my Hamster Huey and the Gooey Kablooie.

These days I can’t get enough of Simone Lia‘s modest but achingly likable graphic novel Fluffy.

“Around sharp curves they went, lurching dangerously far over and sqealing the tires. Up hills, down hills, then seventy or eighty miles an hour on the straightaway, which was never straight for long on those winding country roads. Lewis had never seen Jonathan drive so fast, or so recklessly. But no matter how fast he drove, the two cold circles of light still burned in his rear-view mirror.”

I can’t get over how well-executed this Hardy Boys illustration is, from what was one of my favorite books from the series, Hunting for Hidden Gold. (A reproduction of this image currently hangs on my living room wall.) I love the way the cave forms the irregular frame, the way we peer over Frank and Joe’s shoulders as if we are Chet or Biff or Phil or Tony or another one of the boys’ loyal chums — stuck very much in the action. The lines that halo around Joe’s flashlight indicate its revealing beam, while suggesting a bit of anxious quivering in Joe’s hand. He stables himself on his right in the foreground, but his left side remains vulnerable to the snarling wolf pack. All we see of Frank is the back of his head, but we can see from his posture that he is alert, and no doubt formulating a plan. Frank always brought the patience and thoughtfulness to counter Joe’s impetuous demeanor. I don’t recall how they got out of this particular scrape, but I am sure it was quick, daring, and the product of teamwork. Nice going, boys.

“A freak sandstorm in Egypt has uncovered the top of the Great Pyramid of RA the Sun-God. Already dozens of explorers, singly and in teams, have entered the pyramid through the door at the very top. None have ever returned. You, a lowly undergraduate student in Archaeology, have decided to enter the pyramid on your own and learn its secrets, and (if you can) survive to tell the outside world of its wonders.“

[from the Boy Scout Handbook, Seventh Edition, 1965]