danny sulivan led a short but charmed life, with a flame that seemed to burn a bit hotter than most. danny spent his formative years growing up in various circus' and sideshows with his family the sensational sulivans. traveling the countryside of the early and mid sixties north america. in the off season he worked with gus shineola the famous sideshow banner painter in gainesville flordia. and also spent some time with the great ozmo, the tattoo artist in gibbstown who would sometimes go out on tour with the circus.
when his circus troupe passed thou new york in 1968 a then 8 year old danny was treated to a tour of the skidmore offices. the skidmore's were dannys favorite comics and he was sure to bring along samples of his art. particularly impressive were mock up pages of a mystic knights story that danny had done a few months before.
john zarina made sure he went out for lunch on the first and third tuesdays of the month. they were the days that skidmore held afternoon tours of the office for fans and the general public. it was bad enough that he had to give all new employees the 'what skidmore is all about' speach, that mel skidmore used to take such pleasure in. he really had no love for it. found it 'a godamned pain in the ass' as he put it in a 1975 interview. he knew he'd be suckered into giving the tours if he hung around there on those days, so he always managed to find some excuse in the mid morning to get out of there. twice a month zarina would stay way too long at the art stores and magazine stands of Manhattan. grab lunch and manage to avoid the whole ugly process. it was a system that worked for years.
some of the fans were just out of hand! demanding sketches of spidora, asking inane questions about continuity that he had never for a moment considered and then having to look at all thoes god awful portfolio's! it was a real shame all those trees had to die for most of these artistic efforts. razina hadnt seen a decent one in five years. then again he wasn't really looking either, but somehow they were always forced apon him. when skidmore hired a new artists razina always felt like he was geting the honor of training his replacement. it was the nature of the business all to often.
then a day in 1968 fate intervened. razina somehow forgot his wallet in the skidmore office. besides worrying if one of those god damned hippies who now invaded skidmore's office, wouldn't steal it. it also meant that he had to go back to the office for it. he knew what would be waiting there and didn't even have enough cash in his pocket for a hot dog vendor.
at about 2:30 razina only had about five more portfolio's to get thru before he could finaly get a sandwich in his growling stomach. when he came upon danny sulivan's mystery school story, he couldn't believe his eyes! here was a style that was able to combine the best parts of steven dio and jake kilineberg into one! there was a little bit of horace woodly in there too but you had to look for it. at last here was an artist that razina considered up to the quality that he himself considered the standard of skidmore comics. it was sharp, clean and professional! it featured a crazy new lay out style that was inspiring, yet had the same kind of feel or 'hand' of the old comic masters. he wandered out to the lobby and looked around to find out what hippie or old weirdo was still hanging around there, and all he saw were a bunch of kids who refused to leave. at least they were relitivly quiet, reading their new copies of complementary skidmore comics. some of the young mod mom's were kind cute this time around. one looked particularly good in a short white mini-dress and matching white go-go boots. maybe he could coax her into posing for a mary jo watkins panel in the new spidora story he was falling behind on. it was a tactic that hardly ever worked but it was always worth trying. because who knew? stranger things had happened around the skidmore office almost daily. he didn't want to miss out. maybe this danny sulivan was a chick. so with that in mind..........
he called out, 'sullivan?'......"danny sulivan?'
a young kid threw down the new copy of misery in space, blew out a cloud of smoke and crushed out a lucky strike that razina hadn't noticed the kid was smoking. and danny said 'yo.... right here chief!'
razina thought somebody was putting him on. he looked around for melmon or bolingweather or some other smart ass that was trying to play some kind of practical joke on him. they would always walk by when he was bogged down in the office, with portfolio's. give a little laugh and pat the mountain of atrocious art and say "happy reading" to him on the times he was caught in this nightmare.
this time was different though. he had found something.
'what's up pappy?' the kid said to razina.
' did'ja get to check out the mystery school pages yet'
razina was incredulous. then he was dumbfounded, stymied, strictly bamboozled! all in a matter of seconds.
'your danny sulivan?'
'at's what they call me. chief.......who the hell are you?'
'i--i'm john razina. you drew those mystery school pages?'
'yeah, a few months ago when it was slow in the sign painting shop. i coulda gone back into tattooing with the great ozmo, but i've had it up to my eyeballs with that shit. i'm done with it!'
danny then signaled to his mother, who opened up her purse, pulled out a fresh pack of lucky's and gave them to danny.
he packed them with all the enthusiasm of an eight year old kid!
'you his mother?' asked razina, still incredulous and now only half stymied.
'and you let him smoke?'
'oh. that.......' she said and gave out a little laugh. 'you see mr.....?'
'razina..... john razina'
'well mr. john razina, you see we are circus people. our world is considerably different than the square world..... sometimes we tend to forget when we're out among the rubes.....i'm sorry....... danny put that out. your upsetting mr. razina!she said in a thick european accent,......'you have no idea, mr. razina, no idea!' she smiled a smile that made razina feel like an idiot.
razina knew that this was the truth! he had no idea.
'the circus you say?'
'oh yeeees! hi, kathy sulivan, of the sensational sulivans. if fact we're preforming tomorrow night at the garden.'
she was a looker all right. dressed up in a sequined cowgirl out fit that did indeed look like she steped straight out of the circus, but styles were constantly changing then. so seeing a woman dressed in a sequined cowgirl outfit was not something that would seem very odd. well not to odd anyway. not for skidmore comics.
'so, whacha think of the pages there pappy?...... do i get the gig?' said danny.
john razita looked around for melmon or bolingweather again. all he saw was mike sikorski getting his claws into the hottie with the white mini dress on. he couldn't believe it...... she was falling for it and started posing right there in the lobby! the albino bastard!
'you drew these?' razita said to danny.
'sure....i all ready tole ya' that ....... jake klineberg around here at all ..... ya think maybe i could talk to him instead?'
'no....no klineberg's a freelance'
just then hansel zoff and barlington windheim smyth, the two forigners, came thru the front doors to deliver their monthly assignments. suddenly the smell of strong freshly smoked marajuana was almost overpowering. kathy sullivan sniffed and smiled broadly.
'come over here a minute barlington.' razina called out.
smythe and zoff made their way over.
he laid the pages out on a table and smythe and zoff's jaws droped to the floor!
'young danny here drew these'...... razina said.
'nooooo waaaayyyy!.....' barlington windhiem smythe said with his extremely impressive english accent, zoff's mind was just blown, and he stood there just muttering something in german, that only smythe seemed to understand.
'danka shane' danny said to the german artist.
chapter 2
they would have to check out the child labor laws but john razina and manely s! melmon were sure that they had struck gold once again!
it was amazing, he felt like he was talking to a three foot tall jake klineberg. a circus kid......jeezus, what next?
razina had two tickets to the next nights circus performance that he had gotten from danny's mother for a signed spidora sketch that danny said he would ink and 'fix up' when he got home.
son-of-a-bitchen kid probably would razina thought to himself and laughed, as he closed up his briefcase and headed downstairs to the bar on the street level of the empire state building. drinking on an empty stomach had sometimes been a problem for razina, but after today he needed a few! he just hoped that mike sikorski wasn't in there. of course he was, with the white mini-dress sitting on his lap as he swilled his drink and sang along to some hokey pop song from the forties that was blaring out of the jukebox. it was even square for razina. but what the hell, he wanted to get a swerve on quick and ordered a double vodka martini.
a few seats down from him was mervin glookman from nationalistic comics but he pretended not to notice him as he gulped down the chilled vodka and started feeling human again. he couldn't believe that kid or his art! it still worked on his mind as he tried desperately to work it out of his mind with the martini. the kid had what it took, there was no denying that, and that mother of his...... jeezus! it took all kinds, he supposed as he ordered another round. thinking of that gold la-may' ass on katie sullivan. good god!
sikorski was pawing all over the chic in the white mini-dress and her kid was on a bar stool playing an illegal slot machine, as smythe and zoff walked out of the mens room rubbing their noses and laughing hysterically as they approached john zarita.
" 'ow's about that kid johnny boy...... think he'll take over the spidora dynasty?' smythe smugly asked. razita was in no mood for it. he only had about 25 miniutes before the next train. so he could get home to his kids who would pester him all night with more questions about comics. why didn't i keep that job where i designed cardboard boxes all day long. he thought.
'piss off limey...... the beatles suck!' razita said as smythe and zoff continued to laugh even harder. they knew they had gotten his goat!
there were some free happy hour sandwich or hot dog things over in the corner by mervin glookman. at first john resisted them just to avoid talking to glookman, but by now old mervin was already plastered and talking into his drink. he looked like he was about to snooze. so john flipped off smythe and zoff and headed over there.
he was still trying to figure out just what the hell he was eating when he heard sally tane's loud mouth over at the end of the bar. she was off on another wild rant about the current state of comics and other crap that razita just didn't need to hear. he picked up his briefcase full of spidora pages that he never got to that day, and resigned himself to heading out the door and catching his train.
chapter 3
melmon was in early today, razita thought. he generally wouldn't get in until well after noon. it must be that kid bugging him, as much as he was bugging me razita thought.
'ready for the big top johney?' melmon quiped when he finaly came out of his office. 'sure... manely, sure.' john said, but he wasn't. his wife was highly suspicious of a trip to the circus for the job......and he didn't dare mention it to the kids! he would never hear the end of it if they found out.
mel skidmore was thru yelling over the phone at someone when he called melmon and razina into his office.
'have a seat boys.' mel said as he slid open a file cabnet and grabed a bottle and three glasses.
'so's ya think ya found a ringer..... eh johnny?' said mel.
it was only a little past noon but mel poured them tall. what the hell, john thought. you don't turn down a drink when the old man is pouring them and he could always order liquid lunch.
'yea, s'posed to meet him at the circus tonight if ya'can believe it!'
'kids some kinda escape artist or something.' melmon chimed in.
'and it's just a little kid?' mel asked.
'yea, damnedest thing huh?' said melmon in between gulps.
'well, that turns out just fine, as it looks now. i'm about to let sikorski go. he didn't show up again ta'day. most likely got his dick stuck in some trap and his hands wrapped around a bottle.' mel lamented. 'let glookman deal with him for a while.'
john razina thought back to happy hour yesterday. he knew exactly where sikorski was. probably hungover and drawing pin up pages for that chick's kid by now as he waited for his breakfast. mel skidmore bullshitted and complained about the distributors for awhile. even ended up pouring another round before telling john and melmon to try and pick him up one of those light up tiger heads from the circus. mel said he just loved thoes things as he laughed and shooed them out of his office. mel skidmore was an o.k. guy to work for most of the time, sure as hell beat working for mervin glookman.
chapter 4
melmon couldn't wait to get out of that bar in the empire state building. it was not his scene. strictly no-wheres-ville! nothing but forties and fifties warblers oozing out of the jukebox and full of all the old comicbook drunks that he didn't want to see. he lit up a joint as they cleared the doors of the empire state and offered john razina a hit, john declined. he had never smoked dope.
when they hit madison square a few blocks away they headed imeditly for the beer stand. melmon ordered two. at which john thought he was buying a round, but melmon payed for and grabbed the beers then wandered off double fisted. leaving razina to sheepish order his own. they were looking at the concessions stands for one of those light up tiger heads for mel and checking out their tickets as they spotted sikorski with a kid on his shoulders. right next to him was the white mini-dress. the poor doomed fucker they both thought. as they headed down an entrance tunnel.
the show was pretty good. neither of them had been to a circus in a dogs age. about half way thru the show the spectacular sullivans came on. at first there was a knife throwing exibition, where presumably his father expertly thru knives all around the body of young danny! next up was danny solo escaping from some ungodly looking death trap that seemed like it was strong and powerfull enough to take out the first ten rows of the audience as well. after a hearty round of applause a girl dressed only in a wreath of laurels, announced the next part of the act as the whole family raced around a steel cage on dirtbikes. not bad at all! they were heading towards the tunnel as the ringmaser was announcing the next act 'the aristocrats' but decided to miss them in order to catch and figgure out what to do with danny sullivan.
chapter 5
john zarita didn't remember much. but he did remember, that was an awful lot of tequila that he drank after the circus, he also wondered about the tattoo that he found on his ass in the shower that morning. it stung like hell and he didn't even want to sit down on the train. he was almost sure that they had worked out some sort deal with the kids parents, or guardians or whatever the hell they were, that part got blurry. he did remember melmon getting along quite shamelessly with that kathy or katie or whatever her name was sullivan. the fuckin' irish he thought. they'll screw anything with a pulse! and for the most part it was true.
sally tane was the last thing he needed when he walked thru the doors at skidmore, but there she was waiting for him right next to his desk. she was clicking her heels and puffing unmercifully on a virginia slim. he almost turned around and walked back out. then melmon saw him. what the hell was he doing in here at 9am! zarita thought. he didn't have to wait long for an answer.
melmon led zarita straight into the editorial office, leaving sally tane rolling her eyes and cursing the both of them.
'jeezus john i didn't know you could drink like that....... you feel as horrible as i do?' melmon asked.
'worse' zarita said. 'know anything about any tattoos last night?'
'tattoos? no why?' melmon asked, questioningly.
'nothin' never mind,' zarita said as he very gently scratched his ass.
'did we get the kid?' john razita asked as he looked around for a trash can that he felt he might have to puke in.
'that son of a bitchin kid drank more than you did last night....... but yea we got him!' melmon said as he shuffled some papers on his desk began rolling a fat joint. 'soon as his circus thing is over he starts drawing spidora! i'm giving you a break john.'
what the shit? john thought, he had grown comfortable on the spidora book and it was kind of a shock to realize he was loosing it. monetarily it didn't matter much. he was on staff and drew the same paycheck no matter what he what he was doing, but still......spidora. shit! and to some smart assed kid that was calling him pappy? shit.
'and don't worry about sally tane' melmon said as he licked and rolled the joint, "send her in here and i'll take care of her."
when he walked out of melmons office the kid was there smoking one of jake klineberg's roi tan cigars with him and yucking it up with the senior cartoonist like they were old war buddies or something. razita couldn't believe it!
son of a bitch john thought as he headed towards the mens room to check out the tattoo that was burning on his ass, he locked the door and pulled down his double knit bellbotoms to get a look in the mirror. son of a bitch john mumbled to himself, it was a tattoo of one of those light up tiger heads that you get from the circus, that mel wanted! how the hell did that get there?
end of excerpt (for now)
some of Danny Sulivans best work was for the short lived Red recluse series in the mid 1970's here are but a few of the famous Sulivan covers!
