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Welcome to KIDZ, the centerpiece of Hembeck.com's comics section, and, in a lot of ways, this site's...ahem....magnum opus. Borne out of a deep seated love of the type of kids comics I read while growing up, four color gems like Fred Toole and Al Wiseman's take on Hank Ketchum's DENNIS THE MENACE, John Stanley and Irving Tripp's version of Marge's LITTLE LULU, and Bob Bolling's diminuization of Bob Montana's archetypical teenager, LITTLE ARCHIE, I felt the time was nigh to have my own go at the genre. Actually, the time was 1990, and I'd just had some mild success myself devolving an icon for Marvel Comics with my "Petey" feature, concerning the early misadventures of a young, pre-bitten, Peter Parker (Click over to the "Petey" section for full details and examples), but I wanted something that was entirely my own. Go get yourself a snack, maybe something to drink, and I'll try and make this little history lesson as painless as possible…
Not so coincidentally, 1990 was the year my wife Lynn gave birth to our only child, a delightful-if occasionally exasperating-ball of energy that goes by the name of Julie. Aside from the aforementioned classic comics series, her very welcome entry into our lives was the inspiration for this project. The catalyst for it was the massive success of the TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES, and if that seems odd inasmuch as the two strips are NOTHING alike, allow me to explain. It wasn't the content of TMNT that led me to create KIDZ, it was all the cash those sword wielding shellsters were raking in. No, I didn't entertain any fantasies that my little group would achieve the overwhelming world wide recognition the Turtles had (...well, not OFTEN, anyway...), but y'see all the moolah that went to the two very lucky fellas behind the phenomenon, Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman, wound up having a residual effect that emanated throughout the entire comics biz. Simply put, these guys wound up richer than I'm sure even they imagined possible, and could pretty much do whatever they wanted with all that not so filthy lucre. Kevin, as it turned out, wanted to start his own comics company. Tundra, as it came to be known, would be dedicated to utilizing the highest possible production values on material that fell outside the standard parameters of the field -then as now, primarily super-heroes-in a valiant effort to expand the medium's diminishing readership. Plus, not only would contributors retain full ownership of their properties, they'd be paid really, really well!?! NOW do you see the connection? I've got me this idea to do a strip that potentially could appeal to just about anyone, with the marked exception of the suits at the super duper factories. What better venue than this emerging giant of a company, one willing to take risks, and reward the artist handsomely for his efforts. Plus, in my mind, I had an in...
	I'd met Eastman and Laird several years earlier at a comic's convention during a time period when their success was limited to the comics' world, with the global breakout of Turtlemania still in the future. We hit it off well-they were both nice guys-and they subsequently enlisted me to concoct a four page Turtle story of my own that they'd shoehorn into one of the many reprintings their books were being given. Well, that all worked out pleasantly enough. The rates were high, and astonishingly, they shipped me one hundred complimentary copies of the issue featuring my story!?! (Conversely, you'd practically have to hold Stan Lee himself at gunpoint to squeeze as much as a half dozen comps outta the friendly folks up at Marvel...) How could I not want to go to my good buddy Kevin -- who I met once in a loud crowded auditorium surrounded by throngs of rabid funnybook fans-with my brilliant concept? Only, I wasn't the ONLY one to have this thought. Take a number, pal-the line forms to the rear...
There were a lot of other cartoonists with a lot of eccentric material that they weren't shy about pitching to Mr. E, nor were they reluctant, in more than one case, to take large financial advances for material that existed, at that point, in only the most tenuous sense. I, on the other hand, have this quirk: I don't like being paid for work I haven't done yet. It takes some of the incentive away. Oh sure, when I find myself in those sort of circumstances, I get the stuff done on time. It's not late or anything, but somehow, having that carrot in front of me makes it just that much easier to complete an assignment. So my plan going in with KIDZ was to draw up my story on typing paper using a red pentel (red copies black, y'see, and I just like the variety it gives me-there's a red version as well as the black one that comes out of the copier). When I had the whole thing finished, THEN I'd show it to the Tundra brain trust, but not a minute sooner. Figuring how could they possibly turn it down once they had it in their hands, I'd simply whip up the finished art once I received their blessings. THEN I'd go out and spend my hard earned portion of Turtle shekels. Only, well, I kinda got carried away...
I envisioned launching the KIDZ franchise as a pair of 48 page Graphic Novels (for those of you new to the term, that basically means thick comic books on shiny paper sans ads). The first would detail how a group of school children, on a field trip to a local cable TV station, would find themselves inadvertently usurping the position of Boffo the Clown, malignant kiddie show host, and getting the call letters changed to KIDZ in the process. (Ah! NOW you all understand our title, right?) Volume two would examine the results of our urchins' ascension, setting up possible storylines for future sequels. Sounds simple enough, doesn't it? If only.
Understand if you will that due somewhat to the rather unorthodox nature of my style, I've been limited to allotments of pages numbering in the single digits more often than not, knocking out more one pagers probably than anything else. Here was my big chance to throw off those restraints, and I went about working in my usual manner. That procedure entailed writing out pages and pages of dialog in a single sitting, then going back and divvying it up into comic pages, with a single hand lettered piece of paper providing material for three or four of my flashy red layouts. This method insured a freely flowing narrative, but it also allowed for the page count to rather quickly get out of hand. While continuing to adhere to my basic plot, I found many a tangent to go off on. There were running gags aplenty, and even gags about running!?! Page 48 had come and gone, and soon I saw myself barreling toward the triple digit barrier, my demented little tale merely starting to warm up!! I was on a roll, I was going nuts, and I couldn't stop churning out pages! I was clearly exhilarated by the opportunity to work so expansively. And then I was bummed when I heard the news: Tundra was finished. Done. Over. Uh oh...
	I'd gotten too caught up in my work. Tundra had crashed and burned in the meantime. It was a noble experiment, but just as even Beatle money couldn't support the Apple debacle, even Turtle money couldn't sustain too many uncommercial though beautifully produced properties in an unresponsive marketplace. Scuttlebutt has it that things weren't helped either by the enormous advances paid out to folks who never quite managed to fulfill their end of the bargain and actually get something down on paper. I, of course, had an awful lot down on paper, but nary a cent in my piggy bank to show for it. What else can I say but "oops"?... And here's the funny thing-in the unlikely event that Mr. Kevin Eastman is reading this tale of woe right now, this will be the first notion he'll have of these now decade old events! Yes, folks, this'll be the first time he hears of KIDZ, the book that could've saved Tundra-or bankrupted it all that much sooner, who knows?...
So where does one go from there? Well, if you're a cartoonist, the drawing board would seem to be the natural place. Not with KIDZ, though. I put that aside for a year or so and worked on more lucrative (i.e. paying) projects. Still, my unfinished epic seemed to call for me from high up on my shelf, and I soon gave in to the urge to once again crank out the further antics of my little crew. As the page count mounted, concerned friends inquired as to why I didn't just divide KIDZ up into, say, 20 page segments and attempt to sell it as on ongoing series to another publisher. Would that I could. In a near maniacal zeal to tell my story, I left no places for the action to pause or for small climaxes to provide breathing room. The thing is, while scenes changed and time shifted during the initial 32 pages, everything from page 33 on takes place in what is essentially one continuous sequence!?! Oh sure, locations change as the focus bounces back and forth between a cast of dozens, but everything is meant to be experienced in real time. Sorta like that nifty Fox TV show, "24", only without all the killing. I'd defied the conventions of the form, which either makes me a trailblazing rebel or a clueless storyteller. Or, as I'm fond of saying, maybe a little bit of both...
Of course, I'd like to point out that I clearly did a few things right, not the least of which was keeping KIDZ free of any topical references. Outside of a mention or two of the relatively timeless Victor Hugo and good ol' Abe Lincoln, KIDZ is free of dated quips at the expense of the likes of Vanilla Ice, Garry Hart, Twin Peaks and Cabbage Patch Kids. All the jokes are internally driven, and things work all the better for it.
After a time, I put KIDZ away, still (yes) unfinished. I'd pull it out from time to time, glance through my tight little layouts, and wistfully wonder what I was ever going to do with it. It's not like another Tundra has sprung up out there in the intervening years. Then, in early 2002, we were finally hooked up with a high-speed Internet provider, and almost overnight, something I pretty left as the province of the ladies of the house-the computer-came alive to me and occupied as much of my time as I could manage. I quickly discovered a lot of other cartoonists had sites of their very own, and the realization soon dawned on me that I too needed to make my presence known on the web. What to post, though? KIDZ? Nah. Too much work to get it into proper shape, and besides, it's in the wrong format. How about using those characters, though? Yeah, they're a good bunch, and there's no reason they couldn't take center stage in a brand new, shorter story, no reason at all! Except when I dug my now yellowing layouts out to reacquaint myself with the cast, I knew one thing and one thing only-THIS was the story I had to do! Despite all the drawbacks I've been perhaps focusing perhaps too stridently on, there is one thing I sincerely believe about KIDZ: it's a good story, it hopefully has more than it's share of laughs, and I feel it would be a rotten shame if it never saw the light of day. So, regardless of all the years and all hurdles, here it is! At least, some of it... You really can't imagine how emotionally satisfying it was for me to FINALLY see these pages on two-ply Bristol, in indelible black ink, with awkward elements redrawn and more than a few lines of dialog tweaked. I'm starting you out with a substantial chunk of the scenario, with more pages encompassing entire scenes to hopefully be posted weekly-watch our "New On Site" section for details. No, this isn't the optimum way to read KIDZ, but it is the reality of the situation. Try and enjoy it for what it is-a work in progress-and not expect it to be what it isn't-a daily strip like you find in the newspapers with their built in ebbs and flows. And as much as I'm sure we'd all like to see it in glorious computer generated color, not unlike these specially produced promotional illustrations, it just isn't practical to transmit any other way than in black and white at this time. Sorry gang, but there just aren't enough hours in the day. This is only a two person operation, after all (okay, okay Julie-three person. Happy?...)
	And speaking of Julie, a few words about the names of our core quartet of kids. We christened our cute little cut-up Julie Elizabeth, and had she arrived as a member of the male gender, she-make that HE-would've been known as Stephen Thomas. Not coincidentally, those happen to be the names of our four leads. Hey, it took long enough to come up with those names-waste not, want not, after all. As for the adults, many of them find themselves sharing their last names with my elementary teachers of days long gone by. And our billionaire media czar? He's a special case, and the first person that can identify the derivation of his nomenclature will find themselves forever immortalized in the accompanying parenthetical aside that'll provide the rest of you with the answer!!
So that's pretty much the story behind KIDZ. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy finally having it on my drawing board!! Keep coming back-there'll be more, LOTS more!! I'm as anxious to see how things end as you are!! (Oh, and Kevin? I know you've been running HEAVY METAL magazine for a while now, but if you ever feel the need to give Tundra one last hurrah, buddy, have I got a strip for you!?!...)

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