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Fantasite, v. 2, issue 2, May-June 1942

Page 13

THE FANTASITE 13

might as well get in while the getting is good to snatch the cream of the top!" Flatterer! Tuck then proceeds to touch me for 3000 words. Three thousand words! -- Now most fanzine editors choke over humble requests for a hundred of my wonderful words; but this guy Tucker--! Who does he think he is: Tucker? 

At this stage of the game I don't guarantee nothin' in the way of wordage 'cause I alredy've ritten such Chicon articles as "Typer Takes a Trip", "Calif to Chicon", "Which Shall It Be?", a long rambling account airmaild to Australia, & an interview with artist Brundage, so I don't noe what's left to tell. Another thing, I attended the Chicon with a little different attitude than the Nycon. During Nycon Wk I was seeking to impress upon my memry--indelibly--every detail. In consequence of which I rote some pretty detaild reports afterward. This time (for one thing) I found so many fanmag editors there, I figured they'd all take care of their own articles & I shoudnt have to write any myself, so I just relaxt & let thrill spill upon thrill without consciously endeavoring to retain dates & times & places & people & things & stuff. But it seems all those notes Bob was taking in his own little black book were for Harry Warner, so now steada telling his own tale in his own mag Bob comes and ask Morojo and me for our views on the event.

I shall state to begin with (after only about 600 words of preamble, huh?) that I do not intent to cover, hereinafter-following, the Convention proper. As I understand it, Mark, Earl, & Bob are preparing a great big official book with all the things U need to noe about the Big Show. I told the Aussys more or less all about it because neither Harry Warner nor Sienkiewicz were there so I considered the land of the Southern Cross to be virgin territory for a fairly complete Convention account. As for this article, I intend to concern myself more with odd bits of lore, things about which mainly I only noe or think others may not remember or will not record.

Frinstance, one thing only I coud noe: 6 wks or a couple mos. bfor the Convention I made up a special stencil and sent it to Vol Molesworth of Australia, at his request, for publication in a Chicon edition of his mag, Ultra. On that stencil I said something to the effect that if the Aussys sensed buzzing in their brains on Labor Day, that woudnt be because of over-work, but because I was sending them a thot from Chicago. Now--not that I had the slightest expectation of any telepathic pickup--but I did keep my promise. On one of the innumerable trips to & from the 2nd floor (Con HQs), Australian fandom crost my mind & I flasht the fellows a greeting.

I wonder if anyone noticed how I had my hair fixt when I was wearing my futuristicostume? The 2nd nite, not the first when a few of us stormd the newspaper office to have our pix taken-- I didn't have the time then, &, anyway desired to keep it as a surprise for the Bal Masque. In the few fotos I've seen to date it doesn't particularly show up. & maybe I was too tall for most to notice (the hair-do). Anyway: instead of parting on the left, as is my usual wont, I had my hair broken into three portions, starting at the center of my forehead & divided at sort of a 45 degree angles. If U get the idea. In other words, it had 2 diagonal parts. (I don't noe whether I'd understand that myself if I didn't have the picture in my mind. Maybe this'll make it clearer: Imagine half of a pie. Got the semi-circle in your mind's eye? Then U're pie-eyed. Agreed? All x; now divide that pie in 3 equal pieces. Now eat it. No! No! that isn't what I meant to say; I meant to say now that's what my hair lookt like. A piece of pie.) The center section I coaxt into a kind of cock's crown, or Tweenie effect, with the aid of Hollywood laquer. Oh, and another thing, about my legs-- But that's another story!

What is the mystery of Ackerman's legs??? Read this gam-orous episode & many others--in the concluding installment--"Chi-continued"-in the Anniversary issue of the Southern Star, 20c from 908 Lloyd Court, Columbia, South Carolina.

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THE FANTASITE 13 might as well get in while the getting is good to snatch the cream of the top!" Flatterer! Tuck then proceeds to touch me for 3000 words. Three thousand words! -- Now most fanzine editors choke over humble requests for a hundred of my wonderful words; but this guy Tucker--! Who does he think he is: Tucker? At this stage of the game I don't guarantee nothin' in the way of wordage 'cause I alredy've ritten such Chicon articles as "Typer Takes a Trip", "Calif to Chicon", "Which Shall It Be?", a long rambling account airmaild to Australia, & an interview with artist Brundage, so I don't noe what's left to tell. Another thing, I attended the Chicon with a little different attitude than the Nycon. During Nycon Wk I was seeking to impress upon my memry--indelibly--every detail. In consequence of which I rote some pretty detaild reports afterward. This time (for one thing) I found so many fanmag editors there, I figured they'd all take care of their own articles & I shoudnt have to write any myself, so I just relaxt & let thrill spill upon thrill without consciously endeavoring to retain dates & times & places & people & things & stuff. But it seems all those notes Bob was taking in his own little black book were for Harry Warner, so now steada telling his own tale in his own mag Bob comes and ask Morojo and me for our views on the event. I shall state to begin with (after only about 600 words of preamble, huh?) that I do not intent to cover, hereinafter-following, the Convention proper. As I understand it, Mark, Earl, & Bob are preparing a great big official book with all the things U need to noe about the Big Show. I told the Aussys more or less all about it because neither Harry Warner nor Sienkiewicz were there so I considered the land of the Southern Cross to be virgin territory for a fairly complete Convention account. As for this article, I intend to concern myself more with odd bits of lore, things about which mainly I only noe or think others may not remember or will not record. Frinstance, one thing only I coud noe: 6 wks or a couple mos. bfor the Convention I made up a special stencil and sent it to Vol Molesworth of Australia, at his request, for publication in a Chicon edition of his mag, Ultra. On that stencil I said something to the effect that if the Aussys sensed buzzing in their brains on Labor Day, that woudnt be because of over-work, but because I was sending them a thot from Chicago. Now--not that I had the slightest expectation of any telepathic pickup--but I did keep my promise. On one of the innumerable trips to & from the 2nd floor (Con HQs), Australian fandom crost my mind & I flasht the fellows a greeting. I wonder if anyone noticed how I had my hair fixt when I was wearing my futuristicostume? The 2nd nite, not the first when a few of us stormd the newspaper office to have our pix taken-- I didn't have the time then, &, anyway desired to keep it as a surprise for the Bal Masque. In the few fotos I've seen to date it doesn't particularly show up. & maybe I was too tall for most to notice (the hair-do). Anyway: instead of parting on the left, as is my usual wont, I had my hair broken into three portions, starting at the center of my forehead & divided at sort of a 45 degree angles. If U get the idea. In other words, it had 2 diagonal parts. (I don't noe whether I'd understand that myself if I didn't have the picture in my mind. Maybe this'll make it clearer: Imagine half of a pie. Got the semi-circle in your mind's eye? Then U're pie-eyed. Agreed? All x; now divide that pie in 3 equal pieces. Now eat it. No! No! that isn't what I meant to say; I meant to say now that's what my hair lookt like. A piece of pie.) The center section I coaxt into a kind of cock's crown, or Tweenie effect, with the aid of Hollywood laquer. Oh, and another thing, about my legs-- But that's another story! What is the mystery of Ackerman's legs??? Read this gam-orous episode & many others--in the concluding installment--"Chi-continued"-in the Anniversary issue of the Southern Star, 20c from 908 Lloyd Court, Columbia, South Carolina.