Fairly certain of two things: one, that this 1933 Dick Tracy mask is one of the most terrifying things in my collection (this one is now second); and two, that it was probably the basis of the D.B. Cooper composite sketch:
Look, I’m not saying that I bought a very, very rough copy of Whitman’s 1935 DICK TRACY PAINT BOOK because of Chief Brandon’s lipstick but I absolutely bought a very, very rough copy of Whitman’s 1935 DICK TRACY PAINT BOOK because of Chief Brandon’s lipstick.
Another good mail day in a trio of them, but this one ranks among the best: a complete (minus Patrol Leader bar, the highest level) set of the six badges of the Dick Tracy Secret Service Patrol, a kid’s group created as a promotion for the Dick Tracy radio show by the show’s sponsor, Quaker Puffed Rice and Puffed Wheat cereal, from the mid-late 1930s, including the actual certificate of the kid – I’ve censored her name for this post – who jumped through all of the hoops (read: she ate a lot of cereal and had a lot of friends) to get all six badges, including the ultra-rare Inspector-General's badge:
Not only are they all from the same kid, but they're in remarkable condition – clearly loved and cared for. Sent the seller a message with the picture above of the collection's new home and learned the story of how the badges came to them (which I'll withhold out of respect for their privacy), which makes me treasure this collection even more.
(Note: the blemish above the R in inspector is on the glass of the shadow box, NOT on the badge itself.)
If you're interested in the hoops she jumped through – during the Great Depression, nonetheless – here's a look at the Captain and Inspector-General requirements via a 1939 edition of the Secret Service Patrol Secret Code book, which I had purchased from another seller. Didn't include it in my display as it's not from the same source – and published a few months after the collector earned her Inspector-General's badge; I'd love to find an copy from the year of her rank-ascension (March '38 to Feb '39). Hint hint.
(If you'd like to see the whole code book, shoot me an email and I'll provide the snapshots from my copy).
As I've mentioned before, I'd rather the items in my collection have a personal history behind them than be in pristine condition: that this complete treasure has such a rich and deep – down to the handwriting – one (and are in such stunning condition) will make this one of those "pinch me" pieces of the collection for a long time to come.
Big thanks to Howie Noel - be sure to check out his shop! - for this awesome Gould-meets-Beatty print. Not only is it a beautiful piece of work, but it’s what the breakfast nook wall needed to bring my Dick Tracy obsession and my wife’s Grogu obsession together. Who needs rings when you’ve got Grogu and Dick Tracy together on one wall?
Latest Dick Tracy acquisition: this early-mid 1930s Allied Casting Set, gently (as gently as one can get, I suppose, with a Depression-era home foundry; very fond of the scorch ring around the center) used and possessed not only of most of its original pieces - including three castings of Tracy, Chief Brandon, and Junior - but of its original box (which was the biggest draw for me: this thing is in excellent shape for being a year or two shy of being a nonagenarian).
Doubt I'll be firing it up anytime soon, but I'm feeling all Mandalorian armorer at the moment. This is the way.
The shelves (and the curtain rods) and the treasures they house.
Did I ever predict that, when the resurgence of my Dick Tracy collecting obsession began, said obsession wouldn't feel complete until I owned an autographed Paul Sorvino (RIP) action figure complete with plastic cement shoes? No, no I did not - but here he is.
Dick Tracy milk glass lightbulb: duly (and lovingly) filed as the weirdest item in my collection.
As in love as I am with my now-complete (28/27) collection of DICK TRACY Big/Better Little Books, I'm equally fascinated by two other tomes – both, like the Big/Better Little Books, from Whitman (the form of both is comparable to Big Little Books, newspaper strip reprints told via prose on the left, illustration on the right, repeat for x number of pages) that arrived on the same day: 1934's "The Big Big Book," THE ADVENTURES OF DICK TRACY – essentially a hardback phonebook version of a Big Little Book requring a vinyl album cover to protect– and 1938's DICK TRACY, THE DETECTIVE, a 32-page stapled mini the size of two matchbooks, a Penny Book, that fits in the palm of my rather small adult hands and is perfectly at home in a baseball card plastic sleeve (that took me forever to unearth in the boxes and boxes of collections from my formative years), delivery system bookends to a decade of experimentation:
Indeed, my Dick Tracy collection represents the widest variety of narrative delivery systems of anything on the shelves, Big Big to normal to Big Little to Penny (the form of the innards does, however, remain a constant regardless of the size of the delivery system itself), a collection born as much of love of a character (which I'll write about at some point) as it is a tribute to the fruits of endless experimentation in Depression-era delivery systems that shouldn't have survived the history they represent; that they did is nothing short of a miracle and a testament to the power of a beloved character.
