Earlier today, I told you about my hunt for a 30th anniversary gift that led me to purchase a page from Love Tales #73 (May 1957) for Irene, and it occurs to me you deserve to see the rest of the original art from that story,

Page 4 of “The Wrong Kind of Guy!,” drawn by John Tartaglione, has been hanging on Irene’s wall since 2006. Amazingly, I was able to find the splash page, page 2, and page 3 online as well, scanned and uploaded by their owners.

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Well, Valentine’s Day was this week, which means my thoughts turned to romance … romance comic books, that is. It reminded me of a dichotomy I noticed several years ago between the covers to romance novels and the covers to romance comics, a difference I’ve never seen anyone mention. And so I figure I should mention it to you here now so that you can go, “Oh, Scott, you dummy, where have you been, everyone already knows that!”

It started for me back in 2006, as Irene and I were approaching our 30th anniversary. I decided that, because of Irene’s love of both romance novels and comic books, I’d buy her the original art to a romance comic book cover for an anniversary gift. What I soon discovered, as I studied all the art then for sale from dealers, was that romance comic book cover art was terribly sad, and not at all suitable to celebrate three decades of love!

Somehow, even though our house has always been filled with both romance novels and comics, I’d never noticed this.

Take a look at the covers to a couple of random romance novels. (more…)

I heard back a little while ago from whoever runs the Pimsleur Approach Twitter feed in response to my contacting them about their company’s presumably unauthorized use of Isaac Asimov in its advertising.

Here’s what they had to say.

I’m happy to hear that the Good Doctor will be set free. Still waiting to hear back to my follow-up question asking what bizarre mix-up could have led to this happening in the first place, though—after all, Asimov didn’t get there on his own.

In case you were wondering, this morning, 48 hours after I first noticed it, the face of Isaac Asimov is still being used to tout Pimsleur Approach on the front page of the Huffington Post.

Only today, poor Isaac is doing it twice!

I’m hoping that since it’s no longer a weekend, someone at one of those two companies will quickly take notice of the fact that this is presumably an unauthorized usage and quickly put an end to it.

But what do you think the chances are of that?

I’m not only obsessed with what I’m going to eat in the future—I’m also fascinated with what I could have eaten in the past. Which is why when I discovered that the New York Public Library maintains a database of restaurant menus going all the way back to the 1850s, I immediately rushed back to the oldest bill of fare I could find—this ragged Revere House menu from May 18, 1851.

I’ll have some of that corned beef with dandelions, plus some pigeons in cases on the side, please! How about you?

Anybody got a time machine I could borrow?

I woke up today and checked the Huffington Post, as I often do as part of my morning new scrounge, and was surprised to spot Isaac Asimov’s head bouncing around in an ad for Pimsleur Approach.

Check out my (non-moving) screen grab.

I find it hard to believe that the use of his well-known face in this ad is authorized.

Isaac Asimov … endorsing Pimsleur? This can’t be a real thing. Can it? I don’t recall him ever writing anything on that subject, or hearing him pontificate on it, and a Google search only turns up a single reference that connects the two—and that’s for people who are equally as pissed off at seeing a great man misused by it as I am!

This traduces his memory and lessens his (though I kinda hate to use this word about the Good Doctor) brand.

So Pimsleur Approach people, just stop, OK? And if it’s not something the Pimsleur people did, but is instead the responsibility of the Huffington Post’s ad department, then they should knock it off. A photo of Isaac Asimov is not a stock image that can be used to imply endorsement.

I’ve written both companies to ask WTF is going on, and will let you know what I find out.

UPDATE: As of 9:00 a.m. Sunday morning, Asimov’s face is still shilling …

I ran across this photo over at Locus of me and Andy Duncan and Ellen Datlow (with Wil McCarthy in the background) at the 2001 Nebula Awards in Los Angeles, and all I could think was … now there’s an image in desperate need of a caption!

So, friends, it’s up to you to provide one. What could it be that we’re discussing so intently? And more importantly …

What exactly is Ellen measuring with her fingers?

So yesterday, my boss and pal Craig Engler tweeted a pic of three oranges. He said it was a snack, but it sure looked like he was about to juggle to me. That’s when I learned he’s an accomplished juggler, who’s not only juggled clubs, but fire!

How did I not know that about a guy I’ve known for maybe 20 years? No idea. But what he didn’t know, and what you probably don’t know either, is that I was once in the Guinness Book of World Records—for juggling!

Back in the early ’80s, I learned to juggle—and so did my brother and Dad. We were pretty new to it in 1983 when we heard that year’s International Jugglers’ Association convention would be held at nearby Stony Brook University, but we were having so much fun tossing stuff in the air (and not letting it fall to the ground) that all three of us went.

Which resulted in us talking part in an attempt to break the record for the most number of people juggling the most number of things at the same time. This photo captured the moment when 476 of us juggled 1,867 objects, and ended up on the wraparound cover to the association’s September 1983 magazine. (more…)

A new month has begun, and so, as usual, I gather together my dreams (which I tweet whenever they occur) from the month before to see whether poetry can be made from allowing them to rub up against each other. During the first month of 2013, I dreamt of Isaac Asimov, Batman, Sean Connery, Gardner Dozois, Larry David, and maybe some of you.

JANUARY 2013

I dreamt Eric Van had written an original song for me to play on the ukulele. Sadly, I knocked over my drink and accidentally erased it.

 31 Jan

I dreamt I was free falling, head toward the earth, feet toward the sky. It as pleasant, though I woke before I needed to open my chute.

 30 Jan 
 



I dreamt I listened to Isaac Asimov speak at a kaffeeklatsch for two hours, then headed off to the con suite. Sadly, I remember no details.

 30 Jan

I dreamt I was an old Chinese guy amused to be taken to a Chinese restaurant by someone who thought I’d like it. Woke before I ate anything! 

30 Jan

I dreamt I sliced peppers at ‪@NextRestaurant, ‪@GAchatz watching. When I looked upon what I had done, I was embarrassed by my sloppy work.

 30 Jan 


I dreamt I talked to Conan O’Brien about online reviewing ethics. He didn’t speak, just raised an eyebrow quizzically. Man, was he tall.

 30 Jan

I appear to have lost a dream, because now that I’m awake, I have no idea what my middle-of-the-night scribble ACCEPT WEIRD MEAL means. 

28 Jan

I dreamt I drove with the ambassador when his head was cut off. I demanded to be taken to the airport — but Sean Connery insisted we fight.

 28 Jan 


I dreamt I waited with a huge crowd for the arrival of a bus I _had_ to catch, and was required to remove my shoes before I could board. 

28 Jan 


I dreamt I made a meal out of hundreds of differently flavored bees hovering about me that I plucked out of the air one by one and savored. 

28 Jan

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As you know, I was one of the Guests of Honor at Immortal ConFusion a few weeks back, which means there’s one thing you’ve all been wondering since then …

How was the food?

Because when I wasn’t pontificating on panels, getting intimate with a kaffeeklatsch, hanging in the bar, or leading new friends in a ukulele singalong, I was out on the streets of Michigan seeing what gustatory delights could be found. I didn’t get out much—after all, I was in Michigan on the con’s dime, and I wanted to make sure they got their money’s worth—but still, I did manage to visit three restaurants, thanks to the kindness of the committee.

Joe’s Coney Dog

I’m not sure I’m the best judge of what makes a good coney dog. I grew up in Brooklyn, for several years living about a mile from Coney Island. To me, a Coney Island hot dog means a Nathan’s hot dog with mustard, sauerkraut, and nothing else. Others might add a little relish, but little else, with the dog itself being a major player in the concoction.

So when I found myself in Dearborn, surrounded by dozens of restaurants proclaiming a Coney Island heritage, I knew I had to see what this was all about. I prevailed upon my hosts to bring me face to bun with a coney, and so on Saturday, we hit the road and ended up at Joe’s Top Dog.

I ordered the Jim Padilla special—which is a hot dog topped with ground beef, chili, mustard, and onion—for the full experience, and when it arrived, I stared at it and thought, “How the heck am I supposed to eat this thing?”

I also thought, “Is there really a hot dog under all those toppings?” (more…)