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Cruise of the Foo Foo Special Jr, by Art Widner, Jr., 1943

Page 7

The Cruise of the "FooFoo Special Jr" * * * 7

That evening I went out to see Julie Unger. I got on the surface trolley instead of the elevated, however, and was several blocks past my stop before I realized it. This boner cost me a half hour of wasted time, as I was hoping to reach Dahill Rd before the blackout went into effect.

There were a half dozen people in the car, and the usual banalities were exchanged with lites in the neighborhood did not go out promptly. 'Twas sort of peaceful to sit there in the cool dark and watch the busy fireflies that were airaid wardens come and go, and leave more complete blackness behind them.

On the sidewalk near us, an arw flagged a big car to a halt and commanded them to shut off their lights. Evidently they were bigwigs of some sort, because they protested, altho they had no authority to be around and about in the blackout. The trolley operator became quite incensed. "Ought to have a coupla bombs fall on 'em," he growled. 

The car continued to argue with the arw. "Let's boo d'bums," suggested the trolley operator. So we booed d'bums. They shut up. "Thanx," said the arw and went off to become another firefly in the distance...

So when the lights came on again, I went back and found Julie's place, and we gabbed quite a bit, and I tried to convince him he should be something better in the FAPA, but I didn't succeed, and then I looked at my watch which said ten minutes of eleven and his wife yawned and I said I better get going and they said wait a minute and have some cantelope and ice cream and I had some and we talked some more and I looked at my watch again and it still said ten minutes of eleven and I said gosh and Julie went and looked at the bedroom clock which said 1:30 AM. So Julie went to the trolley stop with me and we missed one and made arrangements to meet at Doc Lowndes' office the next day at lunch time.

But he didn't show up because he got a job and had to go right to work, so I had lunch with Doc and Scott Feldman and a guy who worked with them but wasn't a fan. After we drove the waitress crazy with double talk, we went back to the office, and I looked over the covers for the next Future and Science Fiction Quarterly, and Doc gave me Joe Gilbert's story about Joe Destiny or somebody so I would keep quiet and he could get some work done. I was telling him just why Joe's story was lousy, when damon knight came in.

I observed to my sorrow that the demon has become completely Futurianized. Not that that is such a horrible fate in itself, but I liked him better as a guy from Hood River than a guy from New York. I mean I still like him fine, but I wish he hadn't changed so much.

Anyhow, damon got some money that was due him, and I went along when he left. We went up to Central Park for damon's daily exercise, viz; rowing about the lake for an hour to build himself up. As we got into the boat, a young lady of approximately two tons got into another boat nearby, presumably to build herself down. Ah, Life -- I thot.

So we rode around and exchanged stories, a few of which were clean, and played TSCHG, which is GHOST played the hard way, especially when you run up against something like osteomyelitis, with which I stuck the demon. Then we went downtown and played stinky pinky on the bus. D is quite brilliant at the game.

That nite I met some friends of my cousin who were stf readers, and we played Monopoly and discussed stories. The fellow likes UNKNOWN best while his wife prefers FFM. I have sent them a copy of Fanfare, but I doubt if they are fan material. But what a cutthroat game of Monopoly they play! I've never seen the like. I was figuratively

Saving...

The Cruise of the "FooFoo Special Jr" * * * 7 That evening I went out to see Julie Unger. I got on the surface trolley instead of the elevated, however, and was several blocks past my stop before I realized it. This boner cost me a half hour of wasted time, as I was hoping to reach Dahill Rd before the blackout went into effect. There were a half dozen people in the car, and the usual banalities were exchanged with lites in the neighborhood did not go out promptly. 'Twas sort of peaceful to sit there in the cool dark and watch the busy fireflies that were airaid wardens come and go, and leave more complete blackness behind them. On the sidewalk near us, an arw flagged a big car to a halt and commanded them to shut off their lights. Evidently they were bigwigs of some sort, because they protested, altho they had no authority to be around and about in the blackout. The trolley operator became quite incensed. "Ought to have a coupla bombs fall on 'em," he growled. The car continued to argue with the arw. "Let's boo d'bums," suggested the trolley operator. So we booed d'bums. They shut up. "Thanx," said the arw and went off to become another firefly in the distance... So when the lights came on again, I went back and found Julie's place, and we gabbed quite a bit, and I tried to convince him he should be something better in the FAPA, but I didn't succeed, and then I looked at my watch which said ten minutes of eleven and his wife yawned and I said I better get going and they said wait a minute and have some cantelope and ice cream and I had some and we talked some more and I looked at my watch again and it still said ten minutes of eleven and I said gosh and Julie went and looked at the bedroom clock which said 1:30 AM. So Julie went to the trolley stop with me and we missed one and made arrangements to meet at Doc Lowndes' office the next day at lunch time. But he didn't show up because he got a job and had to go right to work, so I had lunch with Doc and Scott Feldman and a guy who worked with them but wasn't a fan. After we drove the waitress crazy with double talk, we went back to the office, and I looked over the covers for the next Future and Science Fiction Quarterly, and Doc gave me Joe Gilbert's story about Joe Destiny or somebody so I would keep quiet and he could get some work done. I was telling him just why Joe's story was lousy, when damon knight came in. I observed to my sorrow that the demon has become completely Futurianized. Not that that is such a horrible fate in itself, but I liked him better as a guy from Hood River than a guy from New York. I mean I still like him fine, but I wish he hadn't changed so much. Anyhow, damon got some money that was due him, and I went along when he left. We went up to Central Park for damon's daily exercise, viz; rowing about the lake for an hour to build himself up. As we got into the boat, a young lady of approximately two tons got into another boat nearby, presumably to build herself down. Ah, Life -- I thot. So we rode around and exchanged stories, a few of which were clean, and played TSCHG, which is GHOST played the hard way, especially when you run up against something like osteomyelitis, with which I stuck the demon. Then we went downtown and played stinky pinky on the bus. D is quite brilliant at the game. That nite I met some friends of my cousin who were stf readers, and we played Monopoly and discussed stories. The fellow likes UNKNOWN best while his wife prefers FFM. I have sent them a copy of Fanfare, but I doubt if they are fan material. But what a cutthroat game of Monopoly they play! I've never seen the like. I was figuratively