It was the fifties, Paranoiaville. McCarthyism had driven half of Hollywood back to Europe where they had fled the Nazis in the first place. “Duck and Cover, the Conelrad Warning System, and plans for Bomb Shelters were everywhere to remind us of our doom. Censorship  guarded our smooth brains from unsightly wrinkles. Comics were being burned in Life Magazine (echoes of Nazis again). There was even a short film to warn parents about  how comics would turn their little darlings into drooling, knife wielding juvenile delinquents,

My mother bought the propaganda so comics were verboten Not just the horror kind, but the cute animal, Disney-fresh ones as well. Sunday funnies were fine but fold them and put a staple in their navel and they turned into a thing of danger.

This meant I had to get my fix of Red Ryder, Howdy Doody and Donald Duck at friend’s houses or like that one special day at the dump.

Bonfire