Each one of us picks a few things to glom on to as a child, a movie or a piece of clothing or even a kind of food, and those things become part of the furniture we carry around upstairs. Cartoonist Gahan Wilson—think Charles Addams, but infinitely more threatening and hallucinatory—is definitely in my own upstairs room. What that says about my childhood, we shall leave to my therapist.
These strips are from 1974, when I was a young humor editor of but five years old, already reading comic books and humor magazines with an appraising eye. Click on them to see an enlarged version. (h/t to goldenagecomicbookstories.blogspot.com, which has many more here, via goodshit).
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Written by Michael
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