Imaginary Memories
The other day I remembered something I didn’t even know I forgot.
I’ve always had trouble sleeping. My mind just won’t shut up, fretting about things to be done, making up new stories, or just replaying half-remembered songs. One thing that consistently helps my brain wind down is watching cartoons before bed. And I don’t mean anime or the latest episode of Invincible. It’s either got to be appropriate for kids or a light-hearted comedy—no heavy themes or high drama to over-analyze as I lay in the dark. I’ve enjoyed newer finds like Gravity Falls and Dogs in Space, but every now and then I’ll try to revisit a lost gem from my youth. I use the word try because animation has improved so much over my lifetime that it sometimes can render old favorites unwatchable through modern eyes. For example, much as I love the Ninja Turtles, I have to admit their original series has aged like milk in the sun. Today’s kids won’t even watch it, and I can’t blame them. Recently, I returned to a childhood favorite, anticipating another disappointing reappraisal. And while my prediction proved accurate, it unearthed a surprising memory I didn’t even realize had been misplaced.
You should totally watch Dogs in Space
The 1987 cartoon series Brave Starr was a Space Western set on the distant world of New Texas in the 23rd century. It follows the adventures of the titular Marshal as he keeps the peace and protects the good folks of this frontier planet from robot bandits, space pirates, and alien monsters. The main villain is an outlaw sorcerer named Tex Hex, basically a Cowboy Skeletor. Marshal Brave Starr fights these threats by calling upon the shamanistic powers of different animal spirits. “Speed of the puma” allows him to outrun even the fastest of vehicles, while “strength of the bear” can punch boulders into pebbles. You get the idea. It’s the kind of show where everyone wields what I call “plot blasters,” weapons that fire whatever the story needs at the moment, whether that be a grappling hook, snakes made of fire, or even a cage. These guns can do anything—except kill people. And after the bad guys were locked up at the end of every episode, Marshal Brave Starr would explain the moral of the story and tell the kids at home to always believe in themselves.
Marshal Brave Starr, Deputy Thirty/Thirty, and the nefarious Tex Hex.
Watching Brave Starr again brought back the expected warm fuzzy feeling of Saturday morning cartoons as a kid, but it also shook loose a long lost imaginary memory. As a boy of no more than ten, who had recently graduated from reading Westerns to science fiction, Brave Starr was captivating. Here was a show that took all of my interests and melded them together to create something new. Thusly inspired, I came up with my very first original character: Sheriff Davey Dragon. Yes, he was a dragon who was also a cowboy. In space. He walked upright, folded his wings about his shoulders like a coat, and wore a ten-gallon hat with little holes in the top for his horns. Of course he could spit fire, but he also carried a pair of blasters just in case he was ever short of breath. His arch nemesis was an outlaw named Mr. Frosty who used freeze rays to rob trains. While Davey Dragon went on many adventures in my head and countless crayon drawings, I never wrote more than a few words about him. Since no physical evidence of him survived as I grew up, I eventually forgot about the brave sheriff of Draconia. I went on to create hundreds of new characters and fill books with their stories. Hadn’t thought of him in at least thirty years. But then I saw yet another cheaply animated shootout on Brave Starr and it all came flooding back. I don’t know why it was that particular unremarkable action scene (there are so many), but it must have been the one that inspired a seven-year-old to draw a dragon in a cowboy hat. Why else would this memory be tied to a cartoon I barely remember?
Cowboy Skeletor
It was like running into an old friend from college. “Oh my god, is that Davey Dragon? Good to see you! Where have you been?” We got to catch up with each other and make tentative plans to talk again. I made sure to write down his name and what details I could recall, so I won’t forget him again. Even if I never end up using him in anything, it was a worthwhile and eye-opening experience to reconnect with such an important part of my creative development.
A toast to Sheriff Davey Dragon, my very first character.
AI rendering of what Sheriff Davey Dragon might have looked like