IPC MAGAZINES ID CARDS... (OR THE BAD, THE BADDER, AND THE UGLY)

Back in my freelance days when I used to travel down to London every week (sometimes twice in one week) to return work to IPC Magazines (and look for more), I was issued with an ID card to get me into King's Reach Tower, where they were then based.  Even when the Youth Group which produced the comics moved into Irwin House along the road (in preparation for being sold to Robert Maxwell), I was still issued with a card because Irwin House didn't open until 8 or half-past in the morning, and I arrived in London around 6 a.m.  Luckily, King's Reach was open at that time, so I'd make my way up to my desk* on the 26th floor (stopping to get a coffee from one of the free vending machines for drinks located on every other level) and I'd either put any finishing touches to any strips I had, or stare out of the window at the view.

(*Incidentally, although I say 'my' desk, I think it was just one of a couple of spare desks, which were probably used by others when I and the recently deceased Kevin Brighton [one of the art assistants] weren't there.  I thought of it as mine though, because I was the only person I knew of who used it with any degree of regularity.) 

The card was renewed on a yearly basis, and the third (unnumbered) card would likely have still been my final one had I continued my journeys down south, as the Youth group and IPC would've parted company by the time the card expired.  By then, however (and despite any malicious gossip to the contrary), I'd proven myself unfailingly reliable in meeting deadlines, so editorial staff were already mailing work up to me, and I was returning it the same way.  If I recall correctly, I visited London only twice in 1987 - sometime in February and again in December, for a couple of days before Christmas Eve.

I wasn't there on that last occasion seeking lettering work (though I may've returned a job or two], I was down to meet up with Marc Jung, the former deputy editor of Buster, as we'd arranged to hang out and jaunt round the city while he showed me the sights.  And that was the final time I was down in the 'big smoke', all of 34 years ago.  I miss going there, but it'd probably be a shock to my system were I to return, as numerous changes have occurred since then.  For a start, IPC Magazines Ltd (now called IPC Media, I believe - or they were the last time I checked) no longer inhabit the tower, which some years ago was due to have extra floors added to it, in preparation for being turned into residential apartments.

Also, I doubt I'd have the stamina to endure 8 hours on a coach or train, even though I'd no longer be starting work within half an hour of my arrival, as I'm essentially retired from comics, as well as being a decrepit old fart whose 'get up and go' got up and departed a long time ago.  Perhaps it's best that I don't revisit the place, as then the way things used to be are still the same to me, even if only in my mind.  Anyway, poor you!  You're lumbered with having to look at my ugly mug in triplicate, but spare a thought for me; I have to wear that face on a daily basis - at least until I can afford a transplant.   

Posted in: Cartoons