DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Orb, v. 2, issue 1, 1950

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Orb, v. 2, issue 1, 1950

Page 22

22

Moore's room to change into costume, and returned about 20 minutes later with a coating of gold grease-print, a gold mask, green lipstick, and a general 'alienness'. Several of the earlier arrivals to the costume affair, including ye edde were pronounced upon by newsmen, and pictures were duly taken. I have it from reliable sources that when one picture of a couple was taken, when it was developed, the places they were sitting in were empty.... Hmmm.... Wonder why my picture stayed on the film, when theirs didn't....
The orchestra began playing, and dancing commenced. It was mostly women, and was of the type that it would have been passe twenty years ago, but now was downright stinko. Most of the girls hadn't played anything more recent than the latest Gavotte, and in general stayed completely out of rhythm and out of mind. Most of the dancers were forced to make up their own rhythm as they danced along. Personally, ye edde was delighted when they took a recess and Ted Sturgeon MC'd the entertainment. He sang (?) a couple of West Indian folk ballads, and then Norma Hague did a sexy "Temple Dance." --And then more music (?) by the rejuvenated (?) orchestra (?). Finally things got a bit dull, and I decided to de-costume. In the meantime, Chas was monopolizing a lovely cleopatterish fan who came arrayed in as little as history allowed. I never did learn her name, but her outfit was one of the most striking of the group (only about 25 wore costumes). She had long, curly brass hair. Very original and attractive. Went back to Harry's room, only to find him in the midst of basic-basic with a Dianetics case. Snuck in very quietly, and tried to remove my grease-paint, which had hardened (due to the metal in it, I suppose) to a clay-like consistency. It took 20 minutes, and plenty of lost skin to get the stuff off. The auditing went on all through this. The patient was apparently unaware of me.
When I came back to the dance, they were choosing the costume winners, of those who remained. Phil Barker, elaborately dressed as a djinn knight from "Slaves of Sleep" won. Then G.-Waible trotted out, accompanied by Steve Schultheis, and another boy and girl whose names I did not know, and put on a more-or-less impromptu parody on the Dianetics lectures of the previous night, entitled "Dianocybersementisemantics," or something similar. There was newsmen present, and I expected some rather bad reviews on this, since newsmen seldom understand fannish by-play. Happily no bad reviews were given. Part of it was screamingly (and somewhat sexily) funny. The other parts were either so tedious or so revoltingly anti-religion that I was disgusted by it. This same group had been peddling that horrible "Incinerations" all through the con. Incinerations is one of the most mis-guided efforts to ever hit the field of fanzine publishing. Adversely to the fan's point of view, the writers and publishers seemed to like it (due to their more worldly views, I suppose) immensely.
To each his own...
Those that were left after the skit, bade hurried good-byes to each other and left, to pack, catch trains, or busses, etc., the next morning.
And with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I left with Charles for the motel, and my last night in Portland. The next morning, after packing, breakfast, and incidentals, we bid farewell to Don Day, and then to Portland. It was fun...every minute.

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22 Moore's room to change into costume, and returned about 20 minutes later with a coating of gold grease-print, a gold mask, green lipstick, and a general 'alienness'. Several of the earlier arrivals to the costume affair, including ye edde were pronounced upon by newsmen, and pictures were duly taken. I have it from reliable sources that when one picture of a couple was taken, when it was developed, the places they were sitting in were empty.... Hmmm.... Wonder why my picture stayed on the film, when theirs didn't.... The orchestra began playing, and dancing commenced. It was mostly women, and was of the type that it would have been passe twenty years ago, but now was downright stinko. Most of the girls hadn't played anything more recent than the latest Gavotte, and in general stayed completely out of rhythm and out of mind. Most of the dancers were forced to make up their own rhythm as they danced along. Personally, ye edde was delighted when they took a recess and Ted Sturgeon MC'd the entertainment. He sang (?) a couple of West Indian folk ballads, and then Norma Hague did a sexy "Temple Dance." --And then more music (?) by the rejuvenated (?) orchestra (?). Finally things got a bit dull, and I decided to de-costume. In the meantime, Chas was monopolizing a lovely cleopatterish fan who came arrayed in as little as history allowed. I never did learn her name, but her outfit was one of the most striking of the group (only about 25 wore costumes). She had long, curly brass hair. Very original and attractive. Went back to Harry's room, only to find him in the midst of basic-basic with a Dianetics case. Snuck in very quietly, and tried to remove my grease-paint, which had hardened (due to the metal in it, I suppose) to a clay-like consistency. It took 20 minutes, and plenty of lost skin to get the stuff off. The auditing went on all through this. The patient was apparently unaware of me. When I came back to the dance, they were choosing the costume winners, of those who remained. Phil Barker, elaborately dressed as a djinn knight from "Slaves of Sleep" won. Then G.-Waible trotted out, accompanied by Steve Schultheis, and another boy and girl whose names I did not know, and put on a more-or-less impromptu parody on the Dianetics lectures of the previous night, entitled "Dianocybersementisemantics," or something similar. There was newsmen present, and I expected some rather bad reviews on this, since newsmen seldom understand fannish by-play. Happily no bad reviews were given. Part of it was screamingly (and somewhat sexily) funny. The other parts were either so tedious or so revoltingly anti-religion that I was disgusted by it. This same group had been peddling that horrible "Incinerations" all through the con. Incinerations is one of the most mis-guided efforts to ever hit the field of fanzine publishing. Adversely to the fan's point of view, the writers and publishers seemed to like it (due to their more worldly views, I suppose) immensely. To each his own... Those that were left after the skit, bade hurried good-byes to each other and left, to pack, catch trains, or busses, etc., the next morning. And with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I left with Charles for the motel, and my last night in Portland. The next morning, after packing, breakfast, and incidentals, we bid farewell to Don Day, and then to Portland. It was fun...every minute.