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Le Zombie, whole no. 63, July 1948
Page 4
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IN RE, CONVENTIONS Philadelphia convention accounts and reminiscences, filtering in from divers attendees these many past months, have again done what all previous convention reports did to me --- made me realize that I sometimes make a poor second choice when two or more entertaining events are taking place simultaneously, & I must choose between them. I knew that great seas of liquid refreshments were offered for the asking in at least two rooms: Hadley's and Eshbach's. Indeed, this treasured knowledge must have been plainly printed on my face, for the moment Dave KYle and Fred Pohl arrived from New York they pounced on me to demand: where can we get the drinks, Tucker? (I showed them of course.) Likewise, I knew of at least two good poker games going full blast practically every night. (And once I got in on both of them.) I made my choices and hoped they were for the best. Sometimes I discovered the next day that they had been the best, but usually I discovered months later, after reading some jerk's fanzine, that I'd picked a second-best. It seems there is always something better going on in the next room --- and six months later I find out about it. I abhor liquor and detest games of cards, but because I have a fine reputation of "big time fan" to maintain, it is my wont to take sparingly of the offerings, and early in the evening make my way to my lonely bed. No one can call me a fake fan. One such evening, in the Fantasy Press Poker Room (as distinguished from the Fantasy Press Liquid Room), I recall exchanging cards and scraps of government paper with Bob Perry, Don Loucks, Kyle and Pohl, while Eshbach trotted between the two rooms toting mineral water. Exercising my talented powers, I rapidly cleaned out all concerned except Loucks; and the losers quit the game to wander sadly down the corridors. Searching for a means of bolstering my morale, I hit upon the idea of sending everyone I met down to Trudy Kuslan's room. As this was quite late in the evening and Trudy had departed for bed many hours ago, I wasn't surprised the next day when she told me that odd people kept her awake almost all night by pounding on her door, and debating the merits of science, poetry and whatnot under her transom. ALWAYS BELIEVE RUMORS It was on a cold and frosty Philadelphia morning that the great Speer plot was hatched. It seems unnecessary to mention here that a game had been in progress all night. All night long we innocent boys
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IN RE, CONVENTIONS Philadelphia convention accounts and reminiscences, filtering in from divers attendees these many past months, have again done what all previous convention reports did to me --- made me realize that I sometimes make a poor second choice when two or more entertaining events are taking place simultaneously, & I must choose between them. I knew that great seas of liquid refreshments were offered for the asking in at least two rooms: Hadley's and Eshbach's. Indeed, this treasured knowledge must have been plainly printed on my face, for the moment Dave KYle and Fred Pohl arrived from New York they pounced on me to demand: where can we get the drinks, Tucker? (I showed them of course.) Likewise, I knew of at least two good poker games going full blast practically every night. (And once I got in on both of them.) I made my choices and hoped they were for the best. Sometimes I discovered the next day that they had been the best, but usually I discovered months later, after reading some jerk's fanzine, that I'd picked a second-best. It seems there is always something better going on in the next room --- and six months later I find out about it. I abhor liquor and detest games of cards, but because I have a fine reputation of "big time fan" to maintain, it is my wont to take sparingly of the offerings, and early in the evening make my way to my lonely bed. No one can call me a fake fan. One such evening, in the Fantasy Press Poker Room (as distinguished from the Fantasy Press Liquid Room), I recall exchanging cards and scraps of government paper with Bob Perry, Don Loucks, Kyle and Pohl, while Eshbach trotted between the two rooms toting mineral water. Exercising my talented powers, I rapidly cleaned out all concerned except Loucks; and the losers quit the game to wander sadly down the corridors. Searching for a means of bolstering my morale, I hit upon the idea of sending everyone I met down to Trudy Kuslan's room. As this was quite late in the evening and Trudy had departed for bed many hours ago, I wasn't surprised the next day when she told me that odd people kept her awake almost all night by pounding on her door, and debating the merits of science, poetry and whatnot under her transom. ALWAYS BELIEVE RUMORS It was on a cold and frosty Philadelphia morning that the great Speer plot was hatched. It seems unnecessary to mention here that a game had been in progress all night. All night long we innocent boys
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