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Milty's Mag, March 1942
Page 2
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I go to Philadelphia because I want to be where things are made. Old maids fifty years or over may content themselves with sitting at a desk eight hours a day transmitting retirement record cards from one department to another, but I want to be where things are made. It is a shame that I have to be where things are made with which to kill people, but that is the way the world happens to be right now. There is nothing I can do about it. So this September I am going to quit and go back to school. That is also one of the reasons I am going back to Philadelphia. The next eight months are going to witness the greatest saving splurge in history. I am going to be tight, scotch, pinch-penny, mercenary, and all those who expect me to subscribe to fanmags please note, and also all those who owe money please note. Because come September I am going to be on my way and will need that money. No more messing around, wondering what is going to happen, planning, changing plans, and bewailing of fate. I m merely going to save my money, go to the University of Pennsylvania for two years, study the goddam stuff and get that goddam degree. (And that plan holds -- strictly, specifically, and definitely -- until changed.) So farewell, Washington, city o clear skies,intrigue, diplomacy, bureaucracy, the bourgeousie, and red tape -- and hail, Philadelphia, city of smoky skies, dirty sidewalks, humming factories, the proletariat, Stokowski, and better night clubs. ...but once a year... I take this opportunity to thank those who sent me Christmas cards, and apologize for not having replied. I let things pile up over the holidays and I just can't seem to get to the bottom. So this is a convenient way of clearing part of my mail tray. Thankee: Lloyd Connerly, Don Wollheim, Joe Gilbert, Eleanor, Walt, and Forrie (for the cleverest card yet), Scott Feldman and Hyman Tiger, E. Everett Evans, Virginia Combs, Walt Liebacher, Charlie Tanner, Doug Webster, and Shirley Temp...Oops, that didn't belong there. I was thinking, vaguely, of sending people cards wishing them a happy April 23, or some such random date. After all, everybody wishes you to be happy December 25. Why shouldn't April 23 be just as happy? Elmer would love the idea. Elmer and I are talking about studying radio so that after the war, when amateur licenses are once more permitted, we can keep in touch with each other through the ether. Anybody else interested?
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I go to Philadelphia because I want to be where things are made. Old maids fifty years or over may content themselves with sitting at a desk eight hours a day transmitting retirement record cards from one department to another, but I want to be where things are made. It is a shame that I have to be where things are made with which to kill people, but that is the way the world happens to be right now. There is nothing I can do about it. So this September I am going to quit and go back to school. That is also one of the reasons I am going back to Philadelphia. The next eight months are going to witness the greatest saving splurge in history. I am going to be tight, scotch, pinch-penny, mercenary, and all those who expect me to subscribe to fanmags please note, and also all those who owe money please note. Because come September I am going to be on my way and will need that money. No more messing around, wondering what is going to happen, planning, changing plans, and bewailing of fate. I m merely going to save my money, go to the University of Pennsylvania for two years, study the goddam stuff and get that goddam degree. (And that plan holds -- strictly, specifically, and definitely -- until changed.) So farewell, Washington, city o clear skies,intrigue, diplomacy, bureaucracy, the bourgeousie, and red tape -- and hail, Philadelphia, city of smoky skies, dirty sidewalks, humming factories, the proletariat, Stokowski, and better night clubs. ...but once a year... I take this opportunity to thank those who sent me Christmas cards, and apologize for not having replied. I let things pile up over the holidays and I just can't seem to get to the bottom. So this is a convenient way of clearing part of my mail tray. Thankee: Lloyd Connerly, Don Wollheim, Joe Gilbert, Eleanor, Walt, and Forrie (for the cleverest card yet), Scott Feldman and Hyman Tiger, E. Everett Evans, Virginia Combs, Walt Liebacher, Charlie Tanner, Doug Webster, and Shirley Temp...Oops, that didn't belong there. I was thinking, vaguely, of sending people cards wishing them a happy April 23, or some such random date. After all, everybody wishes you to be happy December 25. Why shouldn't April 23 be just as happy? Elmer would love the idea. Elmer and I are talking about studying radio so that after the war, when amateur licenses are once more permitted, we can keep in touch with each other through the ether. Anybody else interested?
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