Sandy the Golden Boy

In December of 1941, Wes Dodds was driving along a lonely New England highway when suddenly he came upon some giant bees. The giant bees attacked, as often giant bees are wont to do. NO ONE wants TAME giant bees. Dodds leapt from the driver seat of his roadster, rolled under the car, changed into his Sandman suit, and leaped back out into two fisted action.

This all happened in the pages of Adventure Comics #69, of course. And it was all very commonplace. Adventure Comics was an anthology title, headlining many heroes and stories, and this particular issue ended in eight pages of Sandman action. Deliriously glorious Sandman action, if you’re as passionate about this stuff as I am.

This was the Golden Age of comics. That’s the era between the late thirties and the early fifties when comic book super-heroes were new and exciting and very very plentiful and there were no rules. Everyone was making it up as they went along. They didn’t know they were busy creating a brand new American entertainment medium, they were just trying to make a fast buck.

The writer and artist of this Sandman story didn’t care about the huge coincidences that their story relied on. They just knew that they had eight pages to tell a story, so why bother with intricate setup on how hero meets villain/threat? He stumbles upon giant bees while driving in the countryside. That’s all you need to know, kid. Now gimme your ten cents and let’s keep moving.

The style of action, threat and chance circumstance are not what sets this story aside for me. It’s the changes to the character itself. Golden Age characters rarely change, with a few notable exceptions. They fill a role, and if that role doesn’t work out they’re jettisoned for the latest and greatest. There’s no existing fan base crying out for the return of old favorites. There ARE no old favorites. So to see the editors of DC comics take an existing character and completely change his outfit and crime-fighting style is a little interesting to me. With this issue, Sandman goes from the strange looking three-piece-suit with gas mask look of previous issues to a much more established super hero look of gold and purple with a cape.








There’s no rational or recognition from the character regarding the change. There’s no promotion on the cover or elsewhere regarding the change. It just is! So plunk down your ten cents and let’s keep moving.

But the Sandman strip would commit one more drastic change with this issue. Sandman would gain a kid sidekick, Sandy the Golden Boy.

When Sandman rolled under that car to dodge the giant bee and change into his fighting togs (natch), across the street watching was a ten year old boy in a tree house. A boy who JUST HAPPENED to be a huge Sandman fan. A boy who JUST HAPPENED to be wearing an approximation of the Sandman’s costume. That’s right, the new one. And a boy who JUST HAPPENED TO be named Sandy.




Sandy commits several sins in the eyes of modern story-consumers. ONE… he had no idea that Sandman would change his costume starting with this issue. None of us did. The artist probably didn’t know until the editor strolled in and yelled “Make it more like Batman”, as noted by comics.org. So how did he know to be wearing this particular costume? TWO… he knew all about the giant bees and how to stop them. THREE… he leaped into battle against the bees as soon as Sandman shows up. FOUR… he’s named Sandy.




In September of 2011, DC Comics relaunched their entire line of comics under the banner the new 52. The effort was headlined by the re-telling of the origin of the Justice League. They got together and battled Darkseid. It took six issues told over the course of six months.

In December of 1941, the Sandman discovered giant bees on a lonely New England road, got a new costume, met and inducted a new sidekick, found the mad scientist responsible for the bees, and kicked everyone’s butt until America was safe again. It took eight pages.



Story-telling has changed just a bit.

There are several factors to account for the way it evolved. I’m not interested in all that for the purposes of this story. I’m interested in the stark differences. Reading old comics, listening to old radio shows, watching old TV shows… it’s not easy. For the most part, people don’t do it. There are so many cultural differences in both the references being made and the very fabric of how a story is told that the jump between them takes some work.

My sister saw the first Star Wars movie in the 1990’s. She thought it was hokey and ridiculous. That’s hearsay to anyone from my generation.

My buddy Steve characterized all older comic art as ‘rough’ and ‘unfinished’. That was a statement that made it hard for me to breath for a few minutes.

My son Ashton doesn’t think my Jack Benny radio shows are funny, even as I sit giggling at them.

My wife Lorie thinks that the Bob Newhart show is a formulaic bore, even as I sit giggling at the episodes.

In college, my buddy Mario and I fell asleep trying to watch the African Queen. We thought it was the slowest movie ever, and it was 2 A.M.

In high school, I hated reading old comics. I thought they were boring. I guess when you study something long enough, and begin to show passion for the history of a thing, then your attitudes toward it will change. My attitude towards old comics, books, radio shows, televisions programs, and movies is completely different today than it was twenty years ago.

But what does that mean for future generations?

There is SO MUCH entertainment in our culture and our past. Even our immediate past. If we were to stop making television shows and movies right now and only watch things from the past that we haven’t seen before, we would still probably never catch up. When we look at it from an inventory perspective, it doesn’t make any sense to keep making more comics, books, and television shows. But when we look at it from a cultural perspective, the language and storytelling practices are changing so much that reading comics from six decades ago is like reading a foreign language. So we have to keep making more stuff to meet the needs of our current culture. And in all that stuff, all those stories, where does a dinky little eight page story introducing Sandy the Golden Boy fit in? Who will remember him after six more decades? Does the fact that he saw print and popularity in the 1940’s make him immortal? No!

And what about the giant bees?

My head hurts again.

My son Ashton is looking forward to the day in our future where I don’t understand tech toys and tools and he has to show me how to use them. Little does he dream that his own kids will be looking at his childhood entertainment sources as boringly and annoyingly retro.

I should teach him a lesson by dressing him up as Sandy the Golden Boy to my Sandman for next Halloween. How totally hipster ironic would THAT be?







Thanks,
DCD