Issue No. 25, February 2008. Edited and published by Robert Lichtman, 11037 Broadway Terrace, Oakland, CA 94611-1948, USA. Please send trade fanzines and letters of comment to this address (or [email protected]). Founding member and Past President1991: fwa. This fanzine is available by Editorial Whim for The Usual (letters, contributions both written and artistic, and accepted trades), or $5.00 per issue (reviewers please note!). An “X” on your mailing label means this may be your last issue. All contents copyright Oc 2008 by Trap Door with all rights reverting to individual contributors upon publication.

CONTENTS OF THIS ISSUE: Doorway Robert Lichtman 2 À la Recherche de Grenouilles Perdues Andrew Main 5 North Beach Nights John D. Berry 11 There’s A Long, Long Trail A-Windin’ Dick Lupoff 16 Remembering Sid Greg Benford 24 Another Calvin Demmon Memory Lenny Bailes & Don Fitch 29/39 Episodes From A Journey John Nielsen Hall 30 The Ether Still Vibrates the Readers 40

ART & GRAPHICS: ATom (2), Harry Bell (cover), Grant Canfield (14) Ross Chamberlain (30), Gary Deindorfer (9), Brad Foster (2, 40), Ray Nelson (5, 7), William Rotsler (13), Dan Steffan (16, 17, 19, 22, 24).

get to know each other well until we had a geometry class together in high school. One day he noticed me reading something obvi- ously extracurricular in my three-ring binder and asked what it was. A fanzine, I said. “What’s a fanzine?” I explained. His face brightened. As long-time readers of this fanzine “Sounds interesting! May I borrow know, I’ve memorialized the passing of all some?” too many of our number. In most cases But of course. these were fans who were around when I Within months Calvin was reading, discovered fandom in 1958 and who had writing for, and publishing fanzines himself, been always there. Until they weren’t. For revealing the sharp wit and good-natured about the last twenty years I’ve done this humor that forever endeared him to me. eulogizing so often that some have charac- Within a year he was celebrated as one of terized Trap Door as an “obitzine.” fandom’s premier humorists, inventing a Here I go once again, but this time I’m form of whimsical short story he called writing of a more personal loss—my oldest “Biffables” (he referred to himself back then friend, and a friend who became a fan be- as “Calvin W. ‘Biff’ Demmon”) and pub- cause of me. I’m speaking of Calvin Dem- lishing many of them in his fanzine *Skoan* mon, who, after an intense year and a half (for “some kind of a nut”). with leukemia, passed away on October 10, Soon Calvin followed my lead by joining 2007. He was surrounded by his wife of 41 some apas. His longest membership was in years, India, and three of their four children. FAPA, where he stayed for six years. Dur- Calvin was born August 6, 1942, in ing the long wait to be admitted, he pro- Inglewood, California. He was just three duced a fanzine called W’Basket for the weeks older than me. I met him in junior Shadow FAPA, a group that had sprung up high when we were twelve, but we didn’t among the many waitlisters, and for a time he even served as its official editor. While spaced, I was unable to keep up with the Many of the subjects of the column closer touch. in FAPA he published New Cat Sand, family’s many moves and Calvin’s job came to count themselves as friends Carol and I were trying to arrange which, like his earlier fanzines, mainly com- changes. A lengthy memorial piece in the after he interviewed them. He received another visit when a chilling e-mail arrived prised his own short stories and personal Monterey Herald filled me in: many awards and commendations from in late May 2006. We were glad we were essays. He placed twice in the top ten on the Before working for newspapers, Dem- the city councils he covered, including sitting down. annual egoboo polls. mon attended five different colleges Monterey and Seaside. He also won I guess I always feel compelled to In addition to his solo productions, and worked a variety of jobs, including competitions for his work, including an write to you when my wellness is wob- Calvin is fondly remembered as co-editor of as a flower truck driver, a radio parts award from the California Newspaper bly because you’re my oldest living several highly regarded weekly fanzines. In salesman, a typist-clerk and a social Publishers Associations Annual Better friend—oldest as in longest time. The 1963 he and Andrew Main produced thirteen worker office manager. He also worked Newspapers Competition for his docs are trying to figure out why all my issues of a fanzine called The Celebrated as a night shift guard at the Los Angeles “Serra’s Children” column. blood cell counts have gone way down; Flying Frog of Contra Costa County. And County Juvenile Hall and wrote science Calvin’s career at the Herald ended in the current theory, as yet unverified, is in 1971-1972 he and John D. Berry pub- fiction on the side… His short story, 2001 when he took early retirement after the something called myelodysplastic syn- lished twenty issues of Hot Shit. Both these “The Importance of Being Important,” paper changed hands in an unfriendly take- drome. (It’s said to be “a heterogene- fanzines had extremely limited circulation was selected for inclusion in the 1984 over. After that he worked as a substitute ous group of closely related clonal but have become legendary beyond their book 100 Great Fantasy Short Short teacher for Hartnell College and Salinas hematopoietic disorders.” I wish they actual numbers. Articles by both his co- Stories, edited by Isaac Asimov. He Adult School, something he greatly enjoyed. wouldn’t say things like that, though I editors about their experiences with Calvin took a job as manager of a credit coun- Deeply religious, he was an active member do like the idea of a “poietic disorder” follow, along with excerpts of Calvin’s seling firm on Market Street in San of Sacred Heart Church in Salinas, where he —iamsic pentameter, maybe.). This contributions. Francisco, then as zone administrative taught the faith to new converts through the still hasn’t been officially defined as a During the ‘60s and ‘70s, as our lives supervisor for Bell and Howell Co. in Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults. He Big Medical Deal yet, and I may turn diverged, it was difficult maintaining con- Burlingame. was also involved with Cursillo, a group out to be perfectly OK, except old. tact. We stayed in sporadic touch by mail And somehow he found the time to sell dedicated to building the Catholic tradition. Quintessential Calvin, that! and an occasional visit. I was fortunate seven short science-fiction stories—three to For a while he teamed up with his former Six months later we learned from India enough to be there on Valentine’s Day in employer in Canada to help compile a his- 1967 when Calvin married Wilma (later Avram Davidson at F&SF and four to Ted that Calvin’s “disorder” had advanced to full White at Amazing and Fantastic. Also, as tory of Christianity, an extensive description leukemia and he’d been at Stanford Hospital India) Alexander in a huge old Victorian of the church during its first 1,000 years. house in San Francisco that belonged to her “Carl Damon” he sold two mainstream short since late October. He would be there for stories to Sir! Some of Calvin’s writing is still avail- over four months, his condition seesawing family. Fellow fan Dick Ellington officiated able on the Web. You can read his observa- as a minister in the Church of the Brother- The career Calvin settled into for the up and down, sometimes dramatically and next thirty-odd years began in 1973 when he tions about teaching at… heartbreakingly. Our asking “May we visit hood of The Way. I’ll always remember the http://www.demmon.blogspot.com/ joy on their faces as they made their way and his family moved to Edmonton, Canada, him?” led to weekly 100-mile round trips where he became circulation manager for …where there’s also a letter from his partner and, ironically, more frequent contact with through the massive shower of rice that in the history of Christianity project about accompanied them to their getaway car. the Edmonton Report (later known as the Calvin and India than we’d ever had. Western Report). Before long he transferred its demise. A very nice photo of him is still Thanks to India’s unflagging insistence My next clear memory is receiving an on-line at… envelope from Calvin in 1968 that contained to the newsroom, working as a reporter, that the doctors not give up on him, Calvin assistant city editor and finally city editor. http://geocities.com/calvindemmon/ rallied and finally got to go home in a single Twiltone sheet: …along with a link to his SF bibliography. Calvin and Wilma Demmon proudly The family returned to Southern Califor- February 2007. Once he was there, we nia in 1977, where Calvin worked for news- In 1992 Carol and I attended a joyous called him often had some long and announce the birth of the first of a papers another four years before being celebration of Calvin and India’s 25th wed- enjoyable times on the phone together. The series of children: Peter Morgan Dem- offered a position at the Monterey Herald, ding anniversary at their home near Mon- Calvin we knew best for his quick mind and mon. Born September 2, 1968 at 4:07 first as a copy editor and then as a columnist terey. In 2001 and 2005 they came to Berk- quirky wit was back, and we relished every a.m. in Los Angeles, weighing 6 lbs. 8 and reporter. He covered government acti- eley to join in a 40th anniversary high minute of those calls. But we never did get oz. and being over 20” long. Mother vities in the area as a reporter and also wrote school mini-reunion with me, Carol, Jerry to visit him at home, because before long he and child are doing fine. Mr. Demmon a column. Quoting the Herald again: Knight (another classmate/friend of ours I was in and out of the hospital again to deal is a nervous wreck. He was best known among his news managed to seduce into fandom) and his with recurrent and devastating infections True to their word, Calvin and India wife Barbara Adair. We spent some won- that his immune system, weakened by sources and his fellow employees for derful hours together on these occasions, went on to have another son, Casson, a his gentle wit and compassionate heart, chemo, couldn’t handle. And on October daughter, Veronica, and to adopt another eating, drinking, catching up and just bask- 11th his daughter Veronica told us he had traits abundantly on display in his ing in each other’s company. It was a treat daughter, Laura. weekly “Serra’s Children” column… passed away the day before. Because our contact was so widely to see them and we all agreed to keep in Carol and I went to his funeral at the loss every bit as deeply as we did. But whence “Flying Frog”? Well, appar- Final Issue, a huge production of eight full Sacred Heart Church in Salinas on October We were friends for life, and we miss him ently somehow I had come across the work of pages in color (with letterpressed title page 19th. Other than his family, the only other immensely. Wilhelm Busch, whom Wikipedia calls “a courtesy of Don Fitch); not surprisingly, it people we knew there, and were grateful to —Robert Lichtman German painter and poet who is known for took us two weeks of intense labor to produce see, were Jerry and Barbara, who felt his his satirical picture stories.” Specifically, an this prodigy, which finally appeared on 11 illustrated poem of his, titled “Der fliegende August. And We Folded Our Tents. Frosch”—which, as the classical scholars Oh, and I was also preparing to relocate to among us will already have deduced, was the fabled wonderland of Mt. Carroll, Illi- À la Recherche de about a flying frog. Or at least a frog who, nois, there to resume my briefly interrupted having managed with little difficulty to climb educational career at a small, unusual liberal Grenouilles Perdues up into a tree, then got the idea he could fly. arts institution called Shimer College. Like a bird, as shown in the illustration I (The previous year I had met a Shimer Reminiscences of the Flying Frog painstakingly stenciled for our premier issue. alumni couple in Berkeley, through whom I It seemed like a fun name for a fanzine, then met a young woman named Ardis and Calvin Demmon and so it was. (See the original poem at Waters in Chicago while I was attending the http://snipurl.com/fliegendefrosch.) 1962 Worldcon. Ardis relocated to Berkeley, The plan, which we stuck with amazingly followed by her two sweet sisters, Carla and Andrew Main well, was to get together once a week and Danni—who later became an SF writer of (aka “andy main bem”) produce two pages each, print about sixty some note under the name Melissa Michaels copies, and mail them to all our —and a bunch of other Shimer fan (and some other) friends. folks, who seemed to fit right Although my name has been linked for- rather loose ends in the spring of 1963. And The first issue appeared 5 May into Berkeley fandom and ever in fannish annals with that of our late so our story commences. 1963, and it appears (if the strongly influenced its culture and dear friend Calvin W. “Biff” Demmon, I Those well-read in American literature dates can be believed) that we for the next few decades. have to admit that I don’t remember much will of course recognize the overall inspira- actually kept up the weekly Several of these folks were about him. I didn’t know him very well or for tion for our title, while the geographical ref- schedule through the end of prominent in the Frog family, very long, and it’s been so many years, so erence was where I was living at the time, June, then skipped a week including especially our Staff many adventures… I really don’t remember hosted by the very kind and generous Ray while we attended Westercon Mail Boy, Tom Hall, who much about anything that happened in those and his lovely wife Kirsten Nelson, in the XVI in Burlingame (remem- kindly sneaked our issues into far-oof days. But Robert has asked me, so I’ll Ivory Tower, Ray’s study—a room which bered, I’m sure, by many of us the mail at the San Francisco give it a try. rose by itself out of the center of their house as a high point of our sopho- corporate office where he Calvin and I are linked, of course, be- (it had windows with great views on two or more years—if we really re- worked; wish I knew where he cause of our brief collaborative production of three sides, as I recall), on Ramona Avenue member little else about it, due is now. And I was inspired by a weekly fanzine in the spring and summer of in the charming, rustic village of El Cerrito, to the highly liquid nature of all this to try out Shimer my- 1963 titled The Celebrated Flying Frog of north of Berkeley in Contra Costa County. the proceedings), then picked self; I lasted a year there, then Contra Costa County, a.k.a. “Flying Frog.” How the Frog came about I don’t quite up again on 14 July and conti- became an official College I believe I first met Calvin in the summer remember. Perhaps Calvin was visiting me nued for three more issues, Dropout.) of 1961, when I moved to Berkeley after one day in the Ivory Tower, and somehow the through 28 July. As for der fliegende graduating high school; a year older than I, idea of putting out a weekly fanzine came up. At that point, we realized Frosch, the frog who thought Calvin had been at UC Berkeley for a year, Or maybe it happened at one of the fannish we were feeling a mite frazzled he could fly…well, it turned sharing a dorm room with fellow Bob Licht- parties for which Berkeley was justly with it all (as one of us put it, it out he was mistaken, as shown man schoolmate Jerry Knight. Calvin had famous. I had the necessary mimeograph (a was getting to be something of a Frog on our in Herr Busch’s final drawing, which published several issues of a fanzine called Rex Rotary M2, for the connoisseurs in the Backs), and besides, the jokes were growing adorned the Frog’s final issue. *SKOAN* (“Some Kind Of A Nut”), which audience) and practical skills, and Calvin had a little stale (if they were at all fresh to begin Reading the first issue now, I note that it had begun to establish his reputation as a the auctorial talent, so…well, fellow fans with), and besides, it seems Calvin, having was produced entirely (both Calvin’s and my talented and humorous writer. I proceeded on know how it is. From rereading the issues for completed a two-year college degree, had pages) on my Facit portable typewriter, with to New York that fall, returning the next sum- the first time in decades, it appears that an decided to quit our little backwater burg and its stylish typeface, which I’d had specially mer to Berkeley, where I spent the 1962 fall appallingly (to me now) regular consump- See the World, beginning with New York made at the factory in Sweden while I was semester at UC, amidst a whirlwind of events tion of highly cultured liquid carbohydrates City. living in New York City a couple years ear- which eventually resulted in my being at also had something to do with it. So we decided to make the 13th our Gala lier, so that I could easily type in Scandina- vian languages with it (as Calvin notes, it had wont to stretch out and rest between bouts at Calvin was ca. 1967, in Los Angeles, just to do so (which it surely is not), I’m sure God an umlaut where the semicolon should be). the typewriter; one issue featured a souvenir before I left for Canada. He had recently met needs no encouragement to bless you, wher- From this it is apparent that issue was entirely thereof, a three-inch-square red paper sticker. and married Wilma, now India, and they ever you are now; and I’m also certain your produced at the Ivory Tower, one sunny Sun- And there was a fair amount of rather seemed very happy together, a classic Leo journey will continue to be fruitful for your- day afternoon. I also get the feeling (and the clever fanart, much of it exploring the “flying and Libra (as I remember) combination. self, and a blessing to those around you. Ave vague recollection), from reading Calvin’s frog” motif, from such luminaries as Ray Dear Calvin, it was a privilege and a et vale! pages, that the publication was mostly my Nelson, Steve Stiles, Arthur Thomson, Colin pleasure to know you. Even were it my place —Andrew Main idea, and he mostly went along to get me to Cameron, Larry Ivie, even Johnny Burbee. stop nagging him about how we ought to Another ongoing theme was ’Pataphysics, publish a fanzine. to which I was introduced by Ray Nelson, For later issues, partly in response to com- who was a devotee of this (according to Calvin in The Flying Frog plaints from readers who said they couldn’t Wikipedia, which explains it better than I tell us apart (which I find hard to could) “philosophy dedicated to Hello. My name is Calvin W. “Demmon.” hard game, of course) until we stopped. Two believe; as I said, Calvin had the studying what lies beyond the I live in Berkeley. Maybe I will stay here cases of Cheap Beer were consumed by those Talent, I was mostly Trying realm of metaphysics. It is a forever, having already been here nearly a attending this ceremony, and we were even Rather Hard—or just plain Try- parody of the theory and year, because there is a nearby San Francisco honored by a visit from the John and Bjo ing, I suppose), Calvin’s pages methods of modern science and Bay. (#1) Trimbles, of Los Angeles. We also received were done in a standard pica is often expressed in nonsens- a telephone call from Santa Barbara (and Bob type; I don’t recall if he cut the ical language.” In its own way, My next victim is standing across the Lichtman and Bob West), and we have the stencils at his home or at the the Frog was, I suppose, a pretty room, unaware, happily slipsheeting a Fan- Scoop of the Week to report here: Mr. Licht- Ivory Tower. good example of ’Pataphysics, zine. I have to kill him because his typewriter man is once more leaving Southern Cali- Rereading these Frogs for and indeed was acknowledged has umlauts where the semicolon should be. fornia and moving to Berkeley, this time to the first time in some forty as such by the College de ’Pata- I am going to stuff his nose full of Grave Ac- study and learn things at the U of C here. Mr. years, the first word that came to physique in Paris itself—to cents and pour molten Æ's in his eyes. (#1) Lichtman will be up here in August (in his mind was “sophomoric”; in which, at Ray’s urging, I sent a words), “after I kill Redd Boggs.” (#5) truth they’re a mite embarrass- set of issues. This morning at about eleven o’clock I ing in spots. However, given our It’s been a long time now heard the telephone ringing in my spacious Well, we actually rode on a Flying Frog ages at the time—Calvin was since my life path veered away flat on Bancroft Way. I was totally asleep at the other day, and I’ll bet you are just sitting 20, I 19—I suppose Much Can from fandom, but I’ve always the time, but I managed to stagger into the on your hands in excitement about it. See, we Be Forgiven. Certainly Calvin’s remembered my time there with Living Room (carefully avoiding my Great had these Visitors from our old Home Town, writing talent, though hardly in Full Flower, great fondness. In a world so much given, it Horned Toad, who lives in a box and is these two Girls, or even *Girls*, who came to was at least in embryonic evidence. And it seems, to infinite varieties of horror, fandom named “Calvin”); it was Andy Main, who visit us in our wicked Berkeley environment. seems we—and our various friends who was—and remains, I’d guess—a refreshing said “Hey! Why don’t we publish a weekly We took them all over the place: Sausalito, comprised the Frog Family—had a good oasis, a bunch of warm-hearted, generous fanzine?” I could not accept the responsibil- San Francisco, Richmond, and the Three time doing it. I’m afraid there isn’t much in people who do things together and for each ity of this, because I had just been dreaming Bridges. In San Francisco we went on the them, though, that would survive for long if other for the simple fun of it. The amount of that we wouldn’t let me across the Mexican Bay Cruise, and were splashed by a wave taken Out of Context. sheer creative energy that went into some of Border because I didn’t have a Berkeley High which caused us to break our sunglasses by The small print run allowed scope for the fanzines I remember, truly labors of love School library ard. The other night I dreamt trying to wipe them dry. In Sausalito I said, novelties like hand-coloring the frog on the by any definition, was simply astonishing. So that I took my foot off and put it in a paper “There is a bar from which once I was kicked first issue with a green marker (and printing I guess fandom itself provides a good exam- sack for a Lark. (A foot makes a terrible out for being so Young,” and they just got the frog in green on the final issue); using ple of ’Pataphysics in action, though so far as Lark, by the way.) Well, somebody can Real Impressed. Ray Nelson’s great rubber stamp collection I know the Frog was the only fan artifact ever analyze those dreams at once and respond to The next day we went to Tilden Park and for ornamentation; pasting in copies of the to make this connection directly. the below address. We will be out of town drove around and finally visited the Merry- Finnish Moomintroll comic strip, a great So, come the fall of 1963, Calvin was in next weekend; we are going to drive to Go-Round and it was there that I rode on a interest of mine at the time; and use of New York (anyway, from the final Frogs, Canada and sell our ears. (#3) Flying Frog. My two Visitors rode on various little stickers I picked up at my job in that was where he was headed), and I was in chickens and horses. the mailroom of a San Francisco corporate Mt. Carroll. And life went on. I do remember Last night, at the home of Jerry and Miri Anyway, I feel like a Real Berkeley Fan office. Among numerous running “jokes” some of the Sixties, anyway, even though I Knight, a GGFS Meeting took over. We now. (#5) was repeated references to the “keen red was there. played Old Movie Titles Charades (the side floor” of the Ivory Tower, where Calvin was As far as I can recall, the last time I saw of which we were the captain winning this The other evening our telephone rang. “Hello,” we said into the receiver. “Hello,” anything else funny to say for us to write “I can't believe this,” I told the Dean. “I pain had turned to rage, and he tossed us both said a voice. “Is this Calvin?” Yes, we said. down. have graduated from high school with Top out of the office. “I have just received your latest fanzine, in “Yes,” said Mr. Clinton. (#8) Honors, and even earned a couple of scholar- “Well,” I told Carol, as we sat outside on which you say I should call you up from New ships to College.” I removed my freshman the sidewalk, “that’s how it was in my first York,” said the voice, “and I thought I’d Mr. & Mrs. Ray Nelson, who live in this beanie and stuffed it in the Dean's ear ner- semester of College.” better do it while it was still on my desk.” place with Andy Main, are sitting on the floor vously. But she had fallen in love with a sparrow Pause. “My name is Pete Graham.” over there right now. We have just asked Mr. “Nevertheless, my son,” said the Dean, and moved to Falls Church. (#13) As you can imagine, we were gassed out Nelson to tell us something funny for our nodding in agreement, “you have flunked of our mind by this, and we were at a sudden Frog, and he has reminded us of a great Chemistry and French and English, and you It is a hard thing to do, to end a fanzine Loss for Words which did not go unnoticed Westercon happening to which we were have received a ‘D’ in ROTC. We are afraid after thirteen issues. There is always the by Mr. Graham. “I think,” he said, “that witness: we cannot allow you to continue here at this danger that you will wind up with a big anti- since you told me to call you up, you have a We were standing with Kirsten in the Place of Learning.” climax, instead of a punchline, and that it will responsibility to say something entertaining.” banquet room, talking to Elmer “God” Perdue. I helped him to his feet again, and coun- stick in everybody’s mind and turn sour and Gasp laugh, we said. “Well,” he said, “if you Mr. Perdue bought Mrs. Nelson a drink, and tered with: “I will try my very best, Sir, and nobody will like you any more. “There is don’t have anything else to say, then then handed her a ten-dollar bill and turned will earn Straight A’s next semester. I realize always that danger,” we have just shouted at Goodbye.” And he wasn’t kidding, and he around to talk to somebody else. that you cannot be lenient with just every Mr. Main, but he has taken to his bed once really hung up. Mrs. Nelson looked long at Tom, Dick, and Harry who comes in here more, as he has often done during these many We immediately called up the ten-dollar bill, unbelieving. with a big smile and a sorority girl on his arm, weeks of Frog publishing, and we are left Mr. Main and reported this to She was just about to run away but ...” alone here to be funny. him, and we both laughed our- to Mexico and take dope when “Let me see that sorority girl on your It seems like such a long time ago that we selves Silly and were Pleased Mr. Perdue reappeared, grin- arm,” the Dean interrupted, an almost sat around on Ray Nelson’s body and talked As Punch. Mr. Graham has ning drunkenly, and removed inhuman glint in his eye. about publishing a fanzine called “The Fly- earned himself a place on our the bill from her hands. I plucked Carol off my arm and placed her ing Frog.” “We will revive the spirit of Berk- Permanent Mailing List, if he “The Lord giveth,” said Mr. in the Dean's hand. “Maybe something can be eley fandom,” said Mr. Main, “and every- even wants it, after finding out Perdue, “and the Lord taketh arranged,” he said. I could just barely hear body will write us letters and we will have a how boring it is to talk to us on away.” (#10) him over the loud whistling noise coming lot of fun at this game.” Everybody did write the Telephone, or “in person.” from his shoe. “Maybe…” us letters, too, and we must admit that it has (#6) Putting out The Frog every “Not on your life,” I replied in haste. “Do been a kick for us to get a telephone call week makes us feel Expansive you think I would sell out my True Love for every other night from our co-editor, who On Friday evening all of and Swell; despite what we the price of a Cheap Ticket to Education?” would always say, “Well, let’s look at the Berkeley (including Calvin might say now and then in our “No, of course not,” said the Dean. “What mailbag, Mr. Demmon,” and then laugh Demmon, who went with the clever way, we enjoy getting I’m interested is in how you shrunk her down cordially as we hung up on him. Oh, there Knights) attended a Party at the your Letters, and they are to this small size. With this formula, we have been a lot of little traditions which have Orinda home of Poul and Karen always so nice and friendly that could become rich! We could dominate the evolved during the last thirteen weeks, and Anderson. Alva Rogers was we often feel that there is some world!” they are all so cute like that that we will save floating in the middle of the air with joy hope for Love in the World. We are glad that “Yes,” I said. “I see it now! An enemy them for some other time, when we will write about his recent Book Sale which will make you like us; we like you a lot too. “Hate,” comes along, say with some purpose in mind, them up in a big article and send them off to him famous and popular. Mrs. Rogers’ wife, though, is part of The Frog's flavor, and won't and we shrink him down to about one-and- Bob Lichtman. Sid, said that we “have an old chin and young be completely abolished. Write again, one-half feet, like Carol here, and then we “Well,” we have just said to Ray Nelson eyes,” and she said a whole lot of funnier everybody, and next week we will send you could just put him under the chair or out of and Kirsten Nelson and Andy Main and Jerry things which we didn’t write down because some cookies and a whistle. (#11) the way like that.” & Miri Knight and Cynthia Goldstone (Lou she told us to “stop taking notes like a cub “Exactly!” cried the Dean, wiping his has just stepped out for a drink) and the reporter.” Ed Clinton took one look at us and My first semester in College went by so eyes in relief. “Well, do we have an agree- Ellingtons and Lowell & Carla Moore and asked Jerry Knight, “Do you think a human quickly—a matter of some four or five ment?” Norman Clarke, as we are all sitting around being can be a non-sequitur?” Jerry and I months, I later discovered—that I hardly “Unfortunately for both of us,” I said, watching the death of this fanzine, “Well, this both laughed and punched Mr. Clinton in the realized it until I was called up before the “Carol was born like this. She is just a natural is the last page of The Flying Frog.” arm, and Jerry loaned me his IBM notebook Dean in January and told that I’d flunked out. dwarf, not made that way by any scientific “Now do you believe in God?” asked Mr. so I could copy down that witty saying. Mr I couldn't believe it. I had graduated from means of which I have knowledge.” Nelson. (#13) Clinton spelled “sequitur” for us without high school with Top Honors, and even The Dean's face contorted in pain as Carol being asked. We inquired if Mr. Clinton had earned a couple of scholarships to College. kicked him in the thumb. Within the hour, his —Calvin Demmon, 1963 every day and only notice it every other day. among the most amusing and friendly regular North Beach Nights I yell at the kids, watch TV, have a few beers, gatherings I’ve ever participated in. They pay the bills, and go to sleep. It is a small, made me feel that I was really doing some- Co-editing a Weekly Fanzine tidy life, and almost completely misleading. thing, and that I had a true community in San “For example, the only reason I can ride Francisco. With Calvin Demmon the bus without freaking out is that I spend The city itself was a frequent subject of the entire time in the prone position, speaking our writing. In the third issue, Calvin offered to God, pulling my vibes together. And when our readers something they wouldn’t find John D. Berry I yell at the kids, they yell back. Also I don’t anywhere else: “We are now offering our pay bills. It is very hard to get at the truth special San Francisco Cockroaches to the about one’s own life.” public for the first time. Each roach comes in In the fall of 1971, I was fresh out of very little effort at all, I can feel just like a That’s Calvin’s oblique, deadpan voice, a special gift box with a card saying ‘sou- college, back in the United States after six student; why, I even get nervous at the onset as he too established his persona for the fan- venir of San Francisco.’ Many of the roaches months studying at Stanford’s overseas of exam week. Yet there’s that delicious zine and tried to make sense, and a few funny are in excellent condition, although some campus in France, and about to move into my feeling of being unaffected by the hustle and bits, out of his everyday life. Neither of us have been slightly squashed in processing. first apartment in San Francisco, ready for bustle all around me. (Hustle and bustle? had much daily interaction with each other This has been an especially good year for our the adventure of post-student life. One of the You’ve got to be kidding. All right, ennui and apart from Hot Shit, but the weekly ritual that special roaches, so our stocks are large first things I did, after securing that apart- apathy.) When I’m not in Palo Alto, I often quickly established itself was a high point for enough to ensure that none will be disap- ment, was to suggest to Calvin Demmon that go to Berkeley, where once again I am both of us. For me, it turned out to be the pointed. (We are reminded of Carol Carr, we publish a weekly fanzine. To my surprise, mistaken for a student. But now I am in San most stable thing in my drifting post-student whose earliest memory is of her mother try- he said yes. Francisco, where Calvin and I have just life, and also the most creative thing that I ing to kill a large raisin.) They make excel- “Starting a new fanzine,” I wrote in the finished this fanzine.” produced that year. Calvin was a great person lent business or personal gifts. Live delivery first issue of Hot Shit, “seems a reasonable Already you can see the essential charac- to spend time with; it was simply a lot of fun can be arranged at a slightly higher cost—be way to celebrate my new status in life, as an teristics of John Berry circa 1971: a fluent sitting around at my place or sometimes his, sure to specify ‘regular’ or ‘extra-large.’ The ex-student (why, hell, I’m a Bachelor of the writer but with a weakness for cute asides; an typing out our impromptu words (we never live roaches can be encouraged to multiply in Arts, which could be translated as living in ex-student with really very little idea of what rehearsed or wrote our bits ahead of time), your own kitchen or bathroom and require sin with the Muse), an unemployed would-be to do next; and a would-be artistic intellec- drinking very cheap wine (one time when I little or no attention. No messy cat-boxes, no writer, and a new resident of the City of San tual. Not that different from a lot of other brought along a jug of Tavola Red, he said, expensive ‘obedience-training’ courses. Just Francisco.” footloose 21-year-olds, then or now, except “Oh, good; I can’t usually afford that”), and a few table scraps, and soon you will have Now here, you see, I’m already running for having the creative outlet of fandom. laughing. them eating out of your hands.” up against the problem of writing remini- Calvin knew exactly where I was coming The other ritual was taking the pages In Hot Shit #7, I recounted life in the city: scences: they’re all lies, and half-remem- from, I’m sure; he’d been a similarly aimless we’d written (always four pages, two by Cal- “The other night the Hayes bus drove over bered lies at that. For the very next sentences young creative person eight years earlier, vin, two by me) over to Grant and Cathy Can- the sidewalk to get to the bus stop, thus scat- contradict my recollection that it was my idea when he and Andy Main had co-edited the field’s apartment, then sitting around talking tering pedestrians right and left. People to do Hot Shit. weekly Flying Frog, right there in the Bay and laughing some more and maybe smoking getting on said, ‘Far out! Do it again! I’ve “It seems,” I went on, “that upon moving Area. Now, though still not yet 30, Calvin a little dope. Cathy was our secret, never- never seen a bus on the sidewalk before.’ The to San Francisco, one is seized with the urge was married with two young sons and was named Staff Printing Person: she got the fan- driver just said, ‘That’s San Francisco.’” to publish a weekly fanzine. When Calvin trying to make ends meet on a pair of low- zine printed by running it off surreptitiously I remember walking around North Beach and Wilma moved here, over a year ago, paying jobs while laboring away at a novel on the office xerox where she worked. (Yes, one day with Grant, also a fairly recent arri- Calvin called me up and said, ‘Let’s publish on the side. “I’m not as Young and Cute as I we were that broke. Hot Shit was one of the val in San Francisco, and turning to each a weekly fanzine!’ But I was busy, and when used to be,” he wrote in that first Hot Shit, very first fanzines produced on a xerox other and saying: “Hey! We live here!” I got unbusy he got busy, so we didn’t.” The “but I want to write in the same old way. The machine, long before people started arguing Our small but select mailing list sent us following paragraphs go on to recount my last time I was into publishing a weekly fan- about whether xerography was a sufficiently letters, and we turned anything that amused return from France in time for the first Boston zine each week meant New Adventures and “fannish” method of reproduction. The only us into a catchphrase or a running gag. Terry worldcon, my return to the Bay Area, and the New Friends. Now, well—the big news in way we could do it was by getting free Hughes wrote us funny letters that we printed small-scale adventures of finding an my life today, for example, is that the com- printing, though we somehow managed to under the rubric “Terry Hughes Sez.” Ray apartment in San Francisco. “Half the time pany is undergoing its annual audit by the scrape together enough pennies to buy Nelson sent funny bits to Calvin. Jay Kinney, I’m not even here. I go down to Stanford a State. stamps for our 60-member mailing list.) who had not yet moved to San Francisco, sent lot, where I hang around the Stanford Com- “Yet there is much that can be said for Those evenings with Calvin—and then with us cartoons from Brooklyn. Avram Davidson munity Coffeehouse. I’m a big fan of coffee- growing conservative and hard. I can ride the him and Grant and Cathy—were probably wrote us, as did Greg Benford. Alice Sanvito houses, and of this one in particular. With bus every day without freaking out. I shave responded in the Hot Shit spirit: “You guys off traveling across the country or we simply were looking out the window, watching the down across the street and punch through the can keep your roaches. We got plenty. First got too busy. We finally called a halt to Hot construction of a new building on the other roof of a Muni bus. It turned out later that you send people all this shit, then you try to Shit with its twentieth issue, a special extra- side of Market Street. A pile driver was being nobody was hurt. But my boss said, “I’ll bet sell cockroaches. Pathetic. Crazy people.” I long issue that included several riders (one- erected, and a giant screw was drilling holes it takes them a week to clean the shit off the even got letters from a couple of my college sheet fanzines from other people, such as the in the ground in which pilings would be driver’s seat.” (#6) friends who had never had the slightest first issue of Ray Nelson’s Garden Library). inserted. “That’s sure a big drill,” I said to my contact with fandom before. Many artist/car- Shortly after our final publishing party, I boss. He said, “It’s not as big as the ones they Marlowe: Grant Canfield, whose contri- toonists sent us versions of the fanzine’s moved out of my apartment and headed back use up the street.” I said, “You’d think it was butions to Hot Shit have been substantial name for use as a header on the first page. to the East Coast for the summer, still in pretty big if they stuck it up your ass.” And he from the very beginning, has loaned me his Grant often handed us cartoons when we search of my future life. Although I came fell into uncontrollable laughter and has paperback set of Raymond Chandler’s Philip came over with freshly typed pages. Steve back in September and spent a couple of treated me with new respect ever since. I Marlowe stories. I had read one once before, Stiles sent us the wonderful four-panel “Max, months in northern California, including see- think I am getting the hang of Business. (#2) but then got hooked on Travis McGee and the Dancing Clam” (“And if he’s really good ing Calvin and his family, I ended up moving filed Chandler away in my head they’re gonna throw him back into the east and didn’t live in San Francisco again Almost from the moment I for a rainy day. It rained hard last ocean!”). until nearly thirty years later. began my career as a fan I was week. I’m through with The Big We kept this up for six months, though This week’s egoboo: to Calvin Demmon. subjected to the charge, “You’re Sleep, and I’ll have finished that span included a gap or two when I was — John D. Berry not as funny in person as you are Goodbye, My Lovely and The in print.” In order to deal effec- Lady in the Lake before you read tively with this insult I have this. Chandler is some kind of removed all traces of humor writer. Philip Marlowe makes from my writing and now trade Travis McGee look like a neu- only in sober fact. Now the rotic pervert. Maybe because other day I was reading a “trans- I’ve been away from L.A. for lation” by a Mr. J. B. Phillips (C. over a year I get excited about of E.) of St. Paul’s second letter the locale of the Marlowe series. to the Corinthian Church, and It’s set in the L.A. that I knew as found that this St. suffered a kid—red interurban cars, clear exactly the same fate 1,900 years skies, orange groves, traffic ago. “…I know the critics say, lights with gongs, seedy front- ‘His letters are impressive and page crimes. (I remember the moving, but his actual presence headline in the late forties on the Calvin in Hot Shit is feeble and his speaking Los Angeles Mirror outside beneath contempt.’ Let them Schaefer’s Grocery on West Several weeks ago Wilma, Peter, Casson part of an Oakland Raiders football game on realize that we can be just as ‘impressive and Boulevard, about Robert Mitchum’s pot and I went to visit Philip K. Dick. Phil had tv yesterday. I have never understood the moving’ in person as they say we are in our bust.) The neighborhoods have changed, and never met Wilma or our sons, and I hadn’t game myself but Peter likes it and he letters.” you can’t hang your hat on a telephone any seen Phil for a number of years. It was a described the plays carefully to me. “See, Thus Religion anticipates Fandom. Also more, but it’s still all there forever in my strange afternoon. “We have lost the ability Calvin—there’s a man running! Oh, oh, he noted that he liked the editorial “we” as much head. And in The Big Sleep. to distinguish between truth and reality,” Phil fell down!” When he gets a little older I’m as we do. (#4) Yes indeed you can’t go home again. My said, almost as soon as we got there, and he going to have him explain Science Fiction. childhood Los Angeles is as dead as Ray- soon had me believing it. Finally, after some (#2) Pile Driver News: My office at work mond Chandler. But when Philip Marlowe heavy melodrama happened at the front door, faces out on Market Street. About a month drives past Exposition Park, I remember and Phil began to mutter about getting a shot- I’ve finally discovered, after eight ago a wrecking crew tore down the old playing there, later walking through the park gun and some shells, we left. On the way out, months, how to talk to my boss. He has Southern Pacific Building. Then a pile driver with a girl, later yet taking a nap under the Phil autographed a copy of Do Androids always been unimpressed by my education, was carted in in pieces and assembled on the trees, between classes at the University. It’s Dream of Electric Sheep for Wilma. “To the by my publishing credits, by my manner of vacant lot. Soon it was hammering away all the kind of relationship I can never have with people,” it said, “we are trying so hard to dress (I wear Hart Schaffner & Marx suit to day driving us all crazy. Then one morning I San Francisco. I was not here when trolley protect.” (#1) work but I got it from the Salvation Army for heard a funny sound from across the street cars ran up Geary Street; I don’t remember $3.00). His is a lusty, vital world. It came to and looked up just in time to see the pile what used to be where the Jack Tar Hotel is My 3-year-old son Peter and I watched me almost as an inspiration from above. We driver come apart and fall in an inevitable arc now. In the Chronicle some weeks ago there was an article about an old lady who comes to him naturally (as it does to every- remembers when the streets were opened so one); some of his favorite ethnic jokes, which that cables could be laid for the cable cars. If he tells over and over again, were told to him we survive the earthquake, my sons may when he was a child by his father. The first remember coming to see me at work and day I started to work for him he began a looking down into the big ditch where they’re diatribe against black people. I knew it was putting the BART subway. now or never, so I cut him off and told him I like my kids. I think I’ll start to work on about Wilma and the kids. He looked like he the juvenile detective novel I just got an idea had just eaten shit—but he has yet to tell for. Watch for it: The Big Nap. (To be fol- another Black Joke in my presence, and I’ve lowed by The Tricycle in the Lake and worked with him for more than a year. That is Farewell, My Cookie.) Okey? (#8) to say, he’s not just a simple bigot. Neither am I. He’s a likeable man, and is often unex- Phone Calls: Jim Benford called up the pectedly nice—as when he gave me a hun- other night, in response to Hot Shit. I think dred bucks as a Christmas bonus. this is the first time I’ve ever talked to him on Some weeks ago I wrote here that I’d dis- the phone. “Do you realize,” he said, “that covered how to deal with him. I made a joke you are going to get a 15-page letter from about somebody driving the pile driver Greg about Philip Marlowe?” He mentioned across the street up his ass, and it made him he’d heard there’s a new Travis McGee laugh. Since then I’ve polished my tech- novel; I pulled it off my up-to-date well- nique, and I’ve got him rolling with laughter stocked shelf and read the title to him (-“A Tan in the palm of my hand. I know his secret. He & Deadly Silence-”) and it took five minutes likes Bad Word Humor—and Bad Words can to convince him I wasn’t kidding. That’s the be the easy, slangy names for ethnic groups, trouble with fans; they’ll never admit when or they can be pee-pee-ca-ca words. Two they’re Scooped. He wanted to know if I was examples: Yesterday he gave me a felt pen, still on the wagon. (I’m hanging on my one saying he had bought it to mark his tennis hat, leg, but the other one is drunk.) We had a but had found it wasn’t waterproof. “How’d nice chat. He gave me a message for John you find that out?” I asked him. “Did you piss Berry. “Tell John to buy a car,” he said. Five on it?” He was still muttering “piss on it” minutes later I called up Mr. Berry. “Guess happily to himself ten minutes later. Last what,” he said. “I’m buying a car” Fandom week he handed me a note with some stuff has no secrets. (#9) written at the bottom in his own private short- hand, which nobody can read but him. I Smart Kid Stuff: Casson, my 1½ year old, pointed to the middle of the note, picked a said his first sentence this morning. We got squiggle at random, and said, “Hey, you some fresh tasty organic dates from the Food spelled motherfucker wrong.” He laughed so Conspiracy, and Casson learned how to say hard, and was so happy, that he let me go “date” in a hurry. This morning I gave him a home early. date (as a bribe) and he ate it and looked me Though I am desperately looking for in the eye and said “More date.” It’s not a another job, and I’ll take nearly anything that very long sentence— not a sentence at all if comes along; though his politics (he’s some- you want to get technical—but it’s got a what to the right of the decimal place) and his subject and a modifier and I think it’s great. biases make me uncomfortable, still, I like Next I’m going to try to convince him to my boss. I’ll miss him. It’s going to be tough stop calling me “mommy.” (#10) working with anybody else. I’ll have to bite my tongue. Job News: My boss is a bigot. He makes I hope I have to bite it soon. (#17) Archie Bunker look like Eleanor Roosevelt. (They looked a lot alike already.) His bigotry —Calvin Demmon, 1971/1972 Where to start this thing? Maybe with, we didn’t give up our sinful ways, I was mer- know originals from reprints, I didn’t know sented me with a rare copy of his own first In the beginning God created the heavens rily cruising interstellar space with Kimball that Lovecraft had been dead for nearly a book, Marine Salvage: The Unforgiving and the earth. The earth was without form, Kinnison of the Galactic Patrol or tramping decade, and I determined to keep an eye out Business of No Cure, No Pay. “You’ll find and void; and darkness was on the face of the the fog-shrouded moors of Devonshite with for his byline every chance I got. this useful,” he said, and he was right. deep. Great prose. I wish I could write like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. Over the next ten or twenty or thirty years Early in 1976 I wrote to my agent, Henry that. But my story doesn’t start quite that long One weekday after school I came across my literary taste evolved and matured. At Morrison. Henry was also Joe’s agent, which ago. a paperback anthology called The Avon least I hope it did. I read a good deal more eased matters a lot. I described the book I Try 1946. Ghost Reader. It featured a wonderful cover both by and about Lovecraft and came to hoped to write and asked if he thought he I was eleven years old, and for reasons filled with gothic imagery. I can picture it to recognize the Olde Gent’s shortcomings, could sell it for me. By return mail he too complex and unpleasant to go into here, I this day. A spooky old house, a scattering of both literary and personal, as well as his informed me that G. P. Putnam was prepared was forced to attend services every Sunday at tilted tombstones, a skeletal tree, and a mon- virtues. Then I made the fateful shift in status to offer me a contract. the First Baptist Church of a small town in strous, green, clawlike hand clutching—I from fan to pro. Some of my work was cast in For the next few months I worked on New Jersey. Not fun for a little Jewish kid, was convinced—at me. the Lovecraft mode, and I always felt a other projects, doing odd bits of research and and of course the forced conversion didn’t Oh, I loved that little book. There were certain kinship for him stemming from those note-making on the Lovecraft novel in every take. I wish I’d had the gumption to protest stories by John Collier, A. Merritt, William childhood days when I found solace in my spare moment. In July, 1976, Pat and I flew this experience actively and loudly, but I Seabrook, H. F. Heard, Bram Stoker, M. R. precious smuggled paperback anthology. to the East Coast, rented a car, and spent didn’t. Instead, I found a way to protest in- James, Mindret Lord, Henry S. Whitehead, By the mid-1970s I was a pretty well several weeks touring Lovecraft Country in wardly. I made up my own words to the August Derleth, H. P. Lovecraft, F. Scott established writer but still an enthusiastic Massachusetts and Rhode Island. We wan- hymns the congregation was called upon to Fitzgerald, and Stephen Vincent Benet. I read reader. I had discovered Dashiell Hammett, dered the streets of Marblehead and Salem, sing. When everyone around me was belting every word of every story in that book, and in many ways the literary antithesis of Love- then returned to Providence. We visited out The Old Rugged Cross or What a Friend enjoyed every one. But of them all, it was craft. Hammett was terse, Lovecraft was Lovecraft’s onetime home on Federal Hill, We Have in Jesus, I was singing my own sub- Lovecraft’s story the knocked me out. I sat in verbose. Hammett was objective, Lovecraft obtained access to the Lovecraft collection at versive version. I also used to sneak extra- the pew the next Sunday morning reading was introspective. But the quality of both Brown University, and read through back neous reading matter into church with me and “The Dunwich Horror” and shuddering with their bodies of work appealed to me. When I files of the Providence Journal and Bulletin. hide it in my hymnal. delicious chills. I’d never heard of Howard read Joe Gores’ novel Hammett I was struck By this time I knew that my book would Then, when the preacher was giving us all Lovecraft and I didn’t know anything about by Joe’s idea of lifting a literary figure out of take place almost entirely in the year 1927, so howdy-do about toasting forever in Hades if the practices of the publishing world. I didn’t his study and plunging him into a narrative I concentrated on that year’s newspapers. We all his own. had to return to California long before I had A few months later—it was December, finished reading up on 1927. When we got 1975—Pat and I were doing our Christmas back to Berkeley I made a contact at the Uni- shopping in the old Capwell’s department versity of California library and picked up store in Oakland. I was wandering through where I’d left off, reading the rest of the the men’s department when I stopped dead in year’s dailies. I switched from the Provi- my tracks. Two streams of thought came dence papers to The New York Times because together in my mind. Lovecraft and Ham- that was the most readily available file. mett. Joe Gores’ book and—and—I could do I also conducted a series of interviews, something like Hammett, only my focus some in New York and some in California, would be the Sage of Providence. with people who had known H. P. Lovecraft. A few weeks later Pat and I ventured out These included Julius Schwartz (his onetime for dinner with Joe and his wife, Dori. We agent), Donald Wollheim (editor and pub- were in a Mexican joint in San Rafael. After lisher), Kenneth Sterling (revision client), a couple of margaritas—well, to be honest, a Charles Hornig (editor and friend), and most couple more than a couple—I got up the importantly Frank Belknap Long (HPL’s courage to tell Joe what I had in mind. The protégé and lifelong chum) I taped two very basic plot-driver for my novel was already lengthy interviews with Long. clear in my mind, and I described it to Joe. If Another surprise came that summer when he felt that I was poaching on his territory I I dropped in on Charles Brown, the publisher was prepared to drop the notion right then of Locus, at his home in Oakland. Charles’s and there. Instead, Joe gave me his blessing. father Larry was visiting at the time, and as He even invited me to his house and pre- we chatted I realized that he had lived in by fabulous characters: Jimmy Durante, Dos Passos must be replaced by a tightly- Babe Ruth, Texas Guinan, Edith Wilson plotted story line. (Woodrow’s widow), Leon Trotsky, Chiang Like a good little author I returned to my Kai-shek, Bela Lugosi, Humphrey Bogart. I desk and started on a new version of the obtained a “planning” calendar, an oversized book. This was long before the era of desktop grid with a square for every day of the year, computers. I literally cut and pasted pieces of and plotted the events of 1927 by date and manuscript to create the “new” book. It was day of the week. an acutely painful experience. Think of am- By September I was ready to start writ- putating your own toes with a pair of rusty ing. The book was to be the longest I had ever chicken shears and no anesthetic. But I written, somewhat over 160,000 words. If soldiered on. that number is less than illuminating, consi- While I was working on the shortened der that the typical genre novel—mystery, book, Charles Brown phoned. He told me science fiction, western—runs between that he was leaving town, headed to Florida 50,000 and 60,000 words. An average main- to visit his father. Larry was terminally ill, stream novel is somewhat longer—between Charles told me. They had spoken and Larry 75,000 and 100,000 words. Pounded out on had asked about Charles’s friend who was my faithful IBM Selectric typewriter, my writing that book. I told Charles that the book manuscript filled 556 pages. was finished but had been rejected and I was As my prose model I took USA, a huge, struggling with a revised version. I did have brilliant, rambling trilogy by John Dos a spare carbon copy of the original manu- Passos first published in the 1930s. Dos script, however, and loaned it to Charles, Passos used real or manufactured news who wanted to show it to his father. stories, clips from newsreels, stream of Some weeks later I saw Charles again. He consciousness monologues, all sorts of prose told me that his father had died, but he’d seen forms to create a huge mosaic of America in the manuscript before his death, read bits of an earlier era, and I tried to do the same, it, and was pleased. building my framework around Howard By this time I realized that the cut-and- Lovecraft. paste version of my book was not working. I In December 1976, I delivered my manu- really didn’t know what to do. But later that script to Putnam’s. summer Clyde Taylor arrived in San Fran- I was pumped. I’d been writing professi- cisco to attend a convention. We arranged to onally since I was in my teens and publishing meet at his hotel and wound up sitting beside books for more than a decade. I felt that this the swimming pool. After hours of hard book, Marblehead: A Novel of H. P. Love- work, I came away with a clear concept for a craft, was by far the best and the most third version of the book. I spent much of that important book I had ever written. My editor, autumn writing the book over from scratch. Clyde Taylor, had come in to replace Peter By the time I’d finished it, hardly more than Israel when Israel took a year’s sabbatical fifteen pages of the original 556-page manu- leave. Taylor, in turn, handed the manuscript script survived. to a less senior editor who had worked with My heart and soul had gone into the first me on several science fiction novels. version of the book. The new version was Brooklyn, in the same neighborhood and at day at the UC library. Early each morning I What a shock when the junior editor—not little more than a dried husk of the living, the same time that Lovecraft and his wife, would load a roll of microfilm into a reader Clyde Taylor—phoned me early in 1977 with vital organism I had originally created, but it Sonia, had lived there. Larry Brown had been and start making notes. Late each afternoon the news that my manuscript had been was a readable, publishable genre novel. Or a teen-aged violinist. He played in basement I would stagger down the white marble steps, rejected. It was much too long, he told me. It so I thought when I mailed it to Putnam’s. nightclubs in the late 1920s while working blinking back tears in the bright sunlight, and would have to be cut by fifty per cent at the Early in 1978 I received a phone call from days in a radio factory, and provided fasci- make my way home. Over dinner I would tell very least. And it would have to be totally my agent. Peter Israel had returned from his nating information about both scenes. my family about the latest events in the world reorganized. The rambling, leisurely, sabbatical and taken his old job back from Back in Berkeley I spent every working of 1927. It was a fascinating world peopled mosaic-like structure I had borrowed from Clyde Taylor. Israel had read my new manu- script. His reaction: The book was perfectly And it was! novel there were legal troubles in his future. figure out who had provided the manuscript. fine as it now stood, but he had something Around this time I’d placed a couple of To his credit, he promptly backed off—but, It was the junior editor who had worked for completely different in mind. He would like books with Cosmos Books, an imprint of he explained, he didn’t own the manuscript in Clyde Taylor back in the 1970s. Taylor was me to write the book over still again, turning Wildside Press. In 2001 my editor at Cosmos, question, he had it on consignment. long since deceased, but I confronted the it into a violent, fast-paced, action thriller. Sean Wallace, asked if Lovecraft’s Book was It didn’t take much detective work to onetime junior editor—by now, not junior at He had sent my agent a photocopy of the still in print, and if not, was it available for manuscript of another novel he was planning reprinting? I told him the story of to publish, and he would like me to use it as a Marblehead and he just about leaped off his model in my next rewrite. I told my agent that chair. I was reluctant to do this but Henry I’d had several photocopies made of the persuaded me to read the “model” manu- copy Charles had preserved. It was nearly script. I read a hundred pages. It was a piece complete—555 of the 556 pages were pre- of garbage. It was a clumsily-written, uncon- sent. Somehow page 553 had disappeared in vincing thriller about Einstein meeting Lenin the intervening years. I sent a copy to Sean on a Swiss ski slope in 1915 and inventing Wallace. His enthusiasm grew even greater. the atomic bomb. I hated the book. He set me up with an editor, an academic I phoned Henry and told him how I felt. working in South Africa. I sent him a copy of The Putnam’s deal fell apart, and I wrote off the manuscript and he started work. the experience as a disaster. Filled with enthusiasm, I went around Several years later Jim Turner, then editor telling people that Marblehead was going to at Arkham House, was visiting my home. be published at long last. An item about it The subject of my disastrous novel, by now even turned up in Publishers Weekly. called Lovecraft’s Book, came up and Jim I don’t know what went wrong with my asked to see the manuscript. I gave him the editor, but after exchanging a few e-mails manuscript and after a few weeks he wrote to with him, I heard nothing more. The project me, saying that he liked the book and would seemed to have died again. like to buy it for Arkham House. Another five years went by. I encountered Jim Turner did ask for a few more revi- a fellow named Fender Tucker, proprietor of sions, most notably the addition of a major a truly amazing miniature publishing new scene, but all in all I found him totally company called Ramble House. I read some helpful and our relationship was completely of Fender’s books, thought they were won- positive. By now it was 1985, almost a derful, did a little work for Ramble House, decade after I’d written Marblehead. As and mentioned Marblehead. Again, the Lovecraft’s Book it was published success- reaction was enthusiastic. I’d been there and fully in the US, England, and Spain. There’s done that before, too many times. an edition in the works right now in Portugal. But this time I had found a publisher who I was broken-hearted a few years later to was for real. I sent Fender a photocopy of the learn of Jim Turner’s death at an early age. manuscript, he loved it, and we set to work. As for Marblehead, I put it out of my mind. All that was missing was page 553, but of Case closed! course I could reconstruct one page out of That’s what I thought. that massive novel if I had to. Another decade and a half went by. I was And then one day I happened to be visiting Charles Brown again. The subject of browsing on the internet and came across a Marblehead and Lovecraft’s Book came up book dealer’s website where a copy of my and I mentioned that every copy of my 1976 Marblehead manuscript was offered for original long manuscript was extinct. sale. That’s what I thought. What in the world?! “No it isn’t,” Charles told me, “I have the I wrote to the dealer, demanded to know carbon that you loaned me to show my dad. what the hell was going on, and warning him It’s in my basement.” that if he sold a copy of my unpublished all!—and he fessed up. preconceptions with the realities of the world When Putnam’s did some clearing of old around him. “My” Sonia Lovecraft was a files “way back when,” he explained, they warm-hearted woman who cared deeply for didn’t bother to return old manuscripts to her husband at the same time that she was their authors. They simply tossed carton after exasperated by his rigidity and bigoted carton of manuscripts into the garbage! theories. “Junior” had gone dumpster diving and res- Of course the distinctions that I make cued uncounted manuscripts, including Mar- between genre and mainstream fiction are blehead, and had stored them in his home for generalities and there are plenty of excep- the next thirty years. tions to each of my statements, but I believe After we had exchanged a series of less that the archetypes hold true. And Marble- than loving messages, “Junior” did the head, without question, is a mainstream, not honorable thing. He photocopied page 553 a genre, novel. And to my pleasure, when and express-mailed it to me. Shortly followed Gavin O’Keefe read the novel before getting a photocopy of the complete 1976 to work on the cover art, he told me, This is manuscript. By now, I don’t know how many the book that should have been published all photocopies are floating around. I don’t those years ago. know what became of the true original. Come You can get information about Marble- to think of it, that’s probably the copy I cut up head: A Novel of H. P. Lovecraft and order it and pasted back together all those years ago. (or any other Ramble House book) via the As for Ramble House, Fender Tucker website: www.ramblehouse.com . proved to be a perceptive and supportive Thirty years from my introduction to editor. Artist Gavin O’Keefe created a cover H. P. Lovecraft in that little church in New painting featuring H. P. Lovecraft and a Jersey to the time I spent reading Joe Gores’ brilliant mapback painting for the book, and novel Hammett. Thirty more from that it was published in December 2006 in simul- shopping expedition in Oakland to the taneous hardcover and paperback editions. publication of Marblehead by Ramble Reader response has been enthusiastic. House. Sixty years. Sixty godalmighty years. I’ve had plenty of time to think about why I do want to clear up one more point about [Editor’s note: Greg’s article was written before Sid’s death.] Clyde Taylor turned down the original Marblehead and Lovecraft’s Book. When I manuscript and just what he was looking for. first described Marblehead to Fender Tucker In January 2007 Sid Coleman’s wife, fiction. His teenage toils for Advent Pub- I think he wanted a genre novel, and I wrote he asked if this was an expanded and Diana, sent a letter to their friends about his lishers supported a scrupulous, ambitious a mainstream novel. elaborated version of Lovecraft’s Book. decline. It was troubling; Sid was one of role for fans in holding the field to its Genre novels have certain common char- No, I explained, the reality is just the those I most admired in fandom—indeed, in standards. In 1960 he said in Earl Kemp’s acteristics. They tend to be short. They’re opposite. Marblehead is the novel I wanted life. But now his particular sort of Parkin- Who Killed SF?, “I am not in science fiction tightly organized. They’re plot-driven and to write so very long ago. It’s the novel I son’s had advanced until he could not live at for money; I am in it for joy. Formally, I am fast-paced, and their characters are vivid but intended to write, and it’s the novel I did home any more. a publisher (actually, 14% of a publisher). relatively simple, painted in bright, primary write. As for Lovecraft’s Book—well, I Diana had placed him in a living facility, This is useful: it gets me on the mailing list of colors. There’s the square-jawed hero, often certainly don’t intend to disown it. It’s an where she visited him daily. He went long PITFCS; it is a handy topic of conversation at with a helpful and sympathetic pal, there’s okay genre exercise. But my heart and soul times now without speaking, she said, but at parties; it is a means whereby I meet some the lovely heroine, there’s the sneering were poured into Marblehead, and now the times a glint of the old Sidney would flicker. interesting people; it is a better hobby than villain. The costumes are different but their book exists at last. His roommate, a cook, remarked that Sid stamp-collecting any day. From an economic true natures haven’t changed from the days of —Dick Lupoff seemed to be a nice man. “Appearances are standpoint, it plays a lesser role in my life Victorian melodrama. deceiving,” Sid said, with a sly smile. than returning Coke bottles for refunds.” Mainstream novels are often longer and Earl Kemp, Ed Wood, Sid and some more loosely organized. They’re driven by The Fan others created a fannish publishing house, characters and ideas. Their pacing is more If Dick’s article interests you Her letter set me to remembering. Sid was Advent Publishers, in 1956. He was a leisurely, and the characters are portrayed in in reading Marblehead, so much—physicist, raconteur, world teenager when he helped publish Advent’s their full human complexity. “My” H. P. it can be ordered at… traveler—and he gave much to science first book, Damon Knight’s In Search of Lovecraft was a man of conscience and good http://www.ramblehouse.com/marblehead.htm will, striving to reconcile his narrow-minded —24— Wonder. Week after week the fans gathered And he had an incredible repertory of haps “know joy.” Germany will claim me as a German and the at Earl Kemp’s apartment in Chicago, catch- Jewish jokes. Terry Carr once asked him, He showed how the cosmological con- Swiss will declare that I am their citizen. If it ing typos in the photo offset text. Ed Wood, a “How many jokes can you tell that start, ‘One stant could be forced to be zero in the early fails, Switzerland will say I’m a German and very large fan with a very large voice, and day in the garment district...’?” He was universe. This fit the prevailing prejudice the Germans will say I am a Jew.” Sid, maintained an unrelenting dialog about speechless, then said he couldn’t put a among theorists that the constant, first It turned out that the cosmological con- the purpose of science fiction fandom—Ed number to them.” introduced by Einstein to make the universe stant isn’t zero at all. In fact, it represents the loudly proclaiming that fandom should Martha Beck was at a science fiction static, neither expanding nor contracting. highest energy density in the universe, far “spread the science fiction faith,” while Sid function and got into a conversation with a When Hubble found in the late 1920s that the more important in dynamics than mere matter insisted on a smaller purpose, like fun. man who was a physicist. She casually men- universe is expanding, Einstein said impos- like us. In fact, it’s close to the value that will Earl Kemp recalled that Sid was at his tioned Sid, and the man said in awed tones, ing the constant was a blunder, not because it eventually give us the Big Rip that will tear very best when criticizing someone for what “You know Sidney Coleman!?” was a bad idea, but because Einstein didn’t everything apart at the End of Time, even he thought was a shortcoming. Sid’s inimi- After all, Sid attended high school and see that the resulting equilibrium was un- atoms. When I mentioned in 1996 the recent table trick was to do it with charm and wit university simultaneously, getting his bach- stable. Any minor jiggle would destroy the discovery that the constant was large, not that left the target injured but somehow elor's degree shortly after he graduated from static state, starting motion. Even with the zero, Sid shrugged. “Win some, lose some in happy about the whole thing and anxious to high school, a feat I’ve never known to be constant, he should have foreseen that the old cosmology game.” tell others about it. equaled. Since his father died when he was Hubble would either see a universe growing We haven’t found any refracting worm- Fandom was for him a larger family, an young, he and his brother helped his mother or shrinking. holes, either. That’s just how science goes. audience for a swift, subtle sense of humor. through trying economic times, living in poor Sidney had no prejudice either way on the At a Halloween party in Chicago, he areas. He attended the Illinois Institute of value of the constant, but he did see a pretty The Sidneyfest appeared costumed as “Judas Iscariot as Sid- Technology, mostly because it was an easy way to use quantum mechanical ideas to pro- When Sid’s decline became evident, the ney Coleman with thirty pieces of silver,” commute, and even though he had been pose a sweet model—the sort of confection Harvard physics department put on a Sidney- carrying three dollars in dimes. In a letter of accepted by the University of Chicago he theorists hold dear. I was startled by the fest that ran over a weekend. Some reports on comment he remarked, “The interstate high- didn't like it much, and quickly went to intricate audacity of his calculation, as were this event, with pictures, are at: way now passes through Indiana and Illinois, Caltech to get his doctorate with Murray many others. At the time I had been working physics.harvard.edu/QFT/sidneyfest.htm traversing some of the flattest territory in the Gell-Mann in 1962, age 25. He attended on some wormhole calculations myself, Then-president of Harvard Larry Sum- nation. It has been said of this geography, LASFS meetings and swiftly became a major much more prosaically trying to find a way to mers opened the Fest before a large crowd ‘You could see a hundred miles in every theoretical physicist. Many fans never quite see if we had any wormholes nearby and if with, “There has not been so much talent direction, if only there was something worth knew his prominence. they could be found out through their refract- gathered around the snack table since Ein- looking at.’” “I’m at the top of the second rank,” Carol ing ability. Some wormholes might develop stein snacked alone.” Nobelist Steven Wein- From a fanzine piece: “Did I ever tell you Carr remembers him saying. one end that looked as though it had negative berg gave the next talk, discussing how to about my great-grandfather, Stephen Rich, mass, since its other end had funneled a lot of calculate Feynman diagrams for quantized the stingiest man in Slonim? When the local Sid the Physicist mass out through its mouth. These would general relativity. He talked about work in stonecutter went out of business, he had him I first met him in the 1960s, introduced by yield a unique refracting signature, two progress, and at the end said, “I don't know make up a tombstone for him, cheap, with Terry Carr, who explained with a wry smile, peaks, if a star passed behind it, along our what to do now. Does anybody else?” This everything on it but the date of great-grand- “You’re both in physics and write for Innu- line of sight. Find the two peaks (rather than was the place to ask! He added, “In happier father’s death. He kept it in his front yard and endo [Terry’s fanzine], so you should pro- one for ordinary wormhole mouths, or any times, I would have gone straight to Sidney tethered his goat to it. At least that’s what my bably know each other.” Sid was already ordinary mass) and—presto, a gateway to the Coleman.” mother has always told me, but she’s quite both a better physicist and wit, of course. He stars, maybe. It was a clear longshot. Though Weinberg is now at the Univer- capable of having stolen the whole incident was far more subtle and powerful in his Sid had no illusions about his model—it sity of Texas, he shared the 1979 Nobel Prize from an Erskine Caldwell novel.” mathematics than I. was a longshot, too, that just might be right. in Physics with Shelly Glashow and Abdus Jim Caughran recalled, “He could make a In the late 1980s he caught the attention of Worth a chance. I felt the same. Salam for work done down the hall from Sid. story of what he’d done today into a hilarious the entire physics world with a calculation, Everybody liked the “wormhole calculus” “Sidney is a theorist's theorist,” Weinberg adventure. He could seize the moment, im- using a “wormhole calculus” he invented for because they liked the result, a zero constant. said. “He has not been so much concerned provising.” A faculty couple at Caltech the purpose. It carried the characteristically That seemed clean, neat, a theorist’s delight. with accounting for the latest data from owned a gentle German shepherd. While he witty title, "Why there is nothing rather than Sid basked in the attention, though he didn’t experiments as with understanding deeply was a grad student Sid would occasionally do something: a theory of the cosmological con- think this was his best work. My work, done what our theories really mean. I can say I dog-sitting duties. The doorbell to the apart- stant." [Nucl. Phys. B 310: 643 (1988)] In it with several others, got a lot of citation and learned more about physics from Sidney than ment rang. Sidney opened the door with the he concluded that through complex dynamics wasn’t my best, either; wormholes just get from anyone else. I also learned more good dog close behind. “Ha! A stranger!” Sidney in the first moments of the universe, it was good press. Sid quoted Einstein wryly that “If jokes from him than from anyone else.” said, “Kill, Fang!” later able to sustain life forms that could per- my theory of relativity is proven successful, The noted particle theorist Howard Georgi said, “In his prime, which lasted for a ants, these allowed for wine with the meal, no Another Sid story: A mathematician and purple suit. He wore it with stylish aplomb, very long time, from the mid ‘60s to the late questions asked. This single gesture made the an engineer are sitting in on a string theory smiling his owlish smiles below twinkling ‘80s, Sidney was such a towering figure in afternoon sessions either lively or dead, lecture. The engineer is struggling, while the eyes, pretending to not notice the flagrant theoretical physics that even his close col- depending on the quality and quantity of the mathematician is swimming along with no color. Once, walking across Harvard Yard, leagues (Nobel prize winners, etc.) were wine. But Sidney avoided the wine, focusing problem. Finally the engineer asks, "How do we encountered a student who had a question somewhat in awe of him. In fact, we had to be on clarifying his own lectures right up to the you do it? How do you visualize these 11- about a career in physics. I wondered how careful about talking to Sidney too soon last minute. His careful, insightful summaries dimensional spaces?" The mathematician Sid would reply, since I usually gave a long, about new ideas, because he was so smart of the state of knowledge in field theory says, "It's easy: first I visualize an n-dimen- windy answer. Sid simply swept a hand and had such encyclopedic knowledge that became famous and appeared as a book sional space, then I set n equal to 11." grandly down his tailored flanks and said, he could kill nascent ideas before they really devoted solely to them. At the fest Sidney could not deal with the “Study hard, have original ideas, and some- got started.” One of the Sidneyfest attendees who got crowd, so he watched the proceedings on TV day you, too, may wear a purple suit.” Sidney was a beloved teacher of graduate his doctorate at Harvard remarked, “How do in a small room off to the side. At the end he Carol Carr also recalls: “Sid made the students, and many of them attended the you do physics at Harvard? You go to Witten appeared before the crowd but declined to expression ‘enjoying oneself’ a concrete, Sidneyfest. Sid referred to the community as to give you a problem to work on. You go to comment, saying later, “At my age you tend observable act, and he would sometimes be i fratelli fisici, by which he meant the bro- Coleman to tell you how to solve it. Then you to emit a lot of gas, and I'd rather not.” caught shamelessly indulging in it. Once, at therhood of physicists. (Most physicists go to Weinberg to write you a reference a party, he had just said something funny to a speak at least a bit of broken Italian, a legacy letter.” Ed Witten is the Einstein figure of Wit bunch of people. After the punch line he of the grand and highly influential summer string theory and much else. Weinberg won Rather than his physics, I remember best walked out of the room, leaving them all in schools organized by Nino Zichichi in Erice, the Nobel for what we now call the Standard Sid’s brilliant wit. He once remarked about mid-grin. Several minutes later I happened Sicily.) In a physics career one often arrives Model. dopey plot twists, “The one good thing about to notice him, alone in a corner, still chortling by train or plane, anywhere in the world, on Though I’ve never met Weinberg, I stupidity is that it leads to adventure.” I’ve to himself. What he’d said to those people the way to a conference or academic visit. learned a lot of physics just working through often thought that applies to life as a whole, had a long half-life, and Sid was a bonafide, One of the fondest reflections of being a sci- a Weinberg calculation he did as a toss-off too. dyed-in-the-wool appreciator. If a good joke entist is to then be greeted by a total stranger, for a classified project I worked on in the late Bob Silverberg recalled in a fanzine, happened to be his own, he wasn’t about to who immediately treated one like an old 1960s, given the problem by Edward Teller, “While traveling in France in the early 1970s, apply the doctrine of false modesty and let it friend. Erice was like that; the brotherhood of who had hired me in 1967. Weinberg’s foot- Sidney unexpectedly contracted a case of die before its time.” science. With good food. print in the calculations was impressive. He what turned out to be crabs. ‘Unexpectedly’ When his physics department suddenly The town likes the NATO-backed work- came a decade ahead of me in the profession because this is customarily a venereal needed someone to fill in for an ill colleague, shops because they bring an elevated form of and I rather regretted showing that the disease, and he had been a model of chastity they asked Sid if he could teach a field theory tourism to the ancient town on a granite spire, method he studied would not work in reality. throughout his trip. The offending organisms class that the energetic colleague had sched- perched a kilometer above a beautiful beach. But physics isn’t just about getting every- must have been concealed in the bedding of uled for 8 a.m. Sid was a notorious night owl One year a noted German physicist drove thing to work; it’s about the truth. Weinberg his hotel room, he decided, and so he had suf- who often had to rouse his dinner guests to go down in his brand new Mercedes and parked was no sharper than Sid, but he happened fered a case of punishment without the crime. home at a mere 3 a.m. He relished the plea- it outside the workshop buildings, which upon an insight that proved out true quite But during the trip he had not, however, sures of watching the sun come up while put- were once a convent. He emerged an hour swiftly. There is a lot of luck in science; remained true to the dietary restrictions im- ting on pajamas and others stirred. Still, he later to find the Mercedes stolen along with many of the brilliant just don’t hit quite the posed by the religious doctrines of his fore- considered. He felt that he did have an obli- his luggage and all his lecture notes. The right problem. Sid won prizes, several Sid- fathers; and, he said, after visiting a French gation to his department. “I’m sorry,” he German panicked, and Director Zichichi led neyfest attendees remarked, but not the big doctor and having his ailment diagnosed for finally said, “I just don’t think I could stay up him back inside to give him a glass or two of ones. what it was, he was granted a vision of his that late.” good Sicilian wine. Emerging an hour later, There were many Sid stories. One was Orthodox grandfather rising up in wrath He wrote a great sendup of the space pro- there sat the Mercedes. Zichichi had ties about being at a physics meeting where before him and thundering, ‘Thou hast eaten gram: everywhere. The local Mafia had found the Stephen Hawking spoke up from his wheel- crustaceans, child, and now thou shalt be “Once I gained access to Pioneer 10, it thieves. Then they kindly returned the car, chair. This was around 1976, when Stephen devoured by crustaceans thyself!’” was the work of a moment to substitute for washed, waxed and fully fueled—an impres- could barely control his throat, and struggled Carol Carr remembers that Sid’s French NASA’s plaque my own, which read, ‘Make sively offhand way to show real power. Sid to make his points in his semi-unintelligible was limited, and that a literal translation of ten exact copies of this plaque with your always loved telling this tale. way. His comment contained a detail, ab- what he told the doctor was, “Small animals name at the bottom of the list and send them I had given a lecture series there in astro- struse mathematical argument and went on are eating my penis.” to ten intelligent races of your acquaintance. physics, suspecting that the true appeal of for minutes. Sid said that he was tempted to In the fevered height of the 1970s, when At the end of four billion years, your name Erice was the meal chits they gave out for reply, “That's easy for you to say,” but held even theoretical physicists had gotten the hip will reach the top of the list and you will rule attendees. Good in many of the best restaur- his tongue. message of the 1960s, Sid had a tailored the galaxy.” If only A. E. van Vogt had thought of this from any type of science fiction. “I never economical idea! think of the future. It comes soon enough,” he Of course, Sid had his oddities. He was said. the worst driver I ever knew, distracted by Now, though, Sid can’t concentrate conversation with his passengers, oblivious enough to read SF. For decades he took SF to the screech and shouts of near-accidents. seriously but not solemnly, and his insights Marta Randall remarked on how when she led to his role as a book reviewer for F&SF— was the lead car on the several-car trip to a the only non-literary person ever to serve. restaurant, she always saw Sid in her rear His F&SF book reviews skewered the second view mirror in profile, easily distracted. rate and revealed the excellences of the able. But then, Feynman considered dental In a review of a novel that did not make the hygiene to be a superstition, despite his rotten grade in a nonetheless ambitious area, he teeth. Einstein hated socks. We have our simply remarked, “This book fills a much foibles. needed vacancy in our field.” Sid did indeed look a lot like Einstein, but Sid is just the opposite. As he fades from he loved SF whereas Einstein deplored it. us, his departure from our midst leaves a Lest SF distort pure science and give people vacancy that echoes, unfillable. the false illusion of scientific understanding, Einstein recommended complete abstinence —Greg Benford

Another Calvin Demmon Memory by Lenny Bailes These are episodes from a journey On the journey besides myself were a through (mostly) Chinese Central Asia group of sixteen, assembled in the U.K. by a Calvin Demmon was a good friend to me one day in the summer of 1972. I was undertaken in 1988. The journey proper company that organized treks of this sort. walking down Fell Street on the way to the bank with forty dollars in one pocket and a started from Gilgit in Pakistan and went via Among the sixteen were my wife, Julia map of San Francisco in the other. Suddenly I felt a hand in my pocket. When I turned the Karakoram highway to Kashgar in Xin- Stone, mother-in-law Barbara Stone and her to see what was going on, a knife was thrust into my chest. The hand ripped something zhiang Autonomous Region, China at the friend and colleague Valentine Downe. The out of my pocket and I collapsed on the sidewalk. Some people picked me up and drove western edge of the Taklamakan Desert, then group “leader” was Christine, who was me to a nearby hospital. I was kind of groggy and when they asked me for the name of on to Urumchi, capital of Xinzhiang, in the French, married to an academic living and a friend, I gave them Calvin’s phone number. I had been sharing an apartment with John northwest. Then we went by train through working in Cambridge where she taught D. Berry and taken it over when John decided to pack up and go on one of his Traveling what is erroneously called the Gobi Desert Chinese language and history. She was one Jiant odysseys. (since there isn’t a single Gobi desert, but of those people whose attainments rather Anyway, they stitched me up at the hospital. The knife missed my heart by an inch rather a number of desert depressions sur- overawed me, holding as she did three or two and the thief got the map of San Francisco for his trouble, rather than the forty rounded by arid hills and plains) with various degrees, and speaking her native French and dollars. Calvin dropped everything when he got my phone call, came down to the stops and excursions to Lanzhou in Gansu English, and Mandarin and Cantonese and province. In an unplanned extension we Japanese and Hindi and Urdu and Farsi and hospital and took me home. I was too weak to go back to the apartment, and Calvin and went on by train from there to Xian in Arabic—that I knew of. But she could be his wife put me up for several days while I regained my strength. Shaanxi province, ancient Chinese capital very fixed in her views and, I thought, a bit Afterwards, he admonished me to try not to get stabbed again, if I could help it. and home to the “Terracotta Army,” before too uncritical of the Chinese authorities and —Lenny Bailes setting foot on an aircraft again. their version of Communism.

—30— This was after the death of Mao and the water have on them. The rocks in many areas know why, but we just assumed that what- found very soon after we began, the path was fall of the Gang of Four, but before the Tian- are unstable and unweathered—and they fall. ever the blockage was, we would be waiting indiscernible and so steep that we had to anmen Square massacre. It was a time of Sometimes, small pebbles at great heights until it was removed. The driver began a long cling to rocks or to scraggy bits of bush change in China, but with the old ways still fall and hit larger pebbles, and these fall and discussion with the party of beardies. At where rocks were unavailable. They were the much in evidence—uniformity of dress, few hit loose rocks, and these fall and hit big length, there was much slapping of out- only things, we thought, preventing us from consumer goods and foreigners such as our- boulders, and then you have a landslide. This stretched hands and smiles. Plainly a deal tumbling base over apex into the icy torrent selves carefully escorted and watched by a does not happen just once, and then every- had been struck, but I could not figure out in below. Eventually we decided to abandon all succession of “guides.” thing comes to rest, but over and over again, respect to what. One of the beardies asked the pretense of dignity, and slide down on our be- But the first episode takes place in so that whole sides of mountains start to driver, who then asked Christine, where we hinds. Having decided on this course of Pakistan: move and keep moving like a river of rock were from. Britain, she said, we are British. action, I sat behind Julia, holding on to her T- and stone and dust for days. Some thirty The beardie smiled very broadly, revealing shirt and whistled the Indiana Jones theme by Episode 1: miles or so from Gilgit, our travails on the beautiful teeth. He laughed and spoke rapidly way of encouragement. But this only earned We had left Gilgit in a Karakoram High- Karakoram Highway Tour Bus were to be to the driver, the driver relaying to Christine: me fearfully foul abuse which I was quite way Tour Bus—we knew this because it was curtailed by just such a phenomenon. Not “He says his grandfather killed many British glad that the uprightly pious locals could not written on the side in big letters. It was also that it was apparent. I had been clinging on to soldiers.” This was not entirely reassuring to understand. The further we slid, Julia’s filthy emblazoned with what I assumed was the my plastic bench by the fingertips, looking us. Then suddenly we took note of our back- language was no more than in keeping with same information in Urdu, and carried many backwards at Mount Rakaposhi towering packs and other luggage being rapidly the state of our clothes, as dust flew up other inscriptions and prayers in ornate script over 7,500 meters and beyond it twinkling in stripped off the roof. It was an alarming around us in great clouds. Occasionally one on more or less every flat surface of the the clear icy blue sky, what I was sure was moment. could discern some other member of the “bodywork.” It was, in fact, a long flatbed the distant peak of K2, which, if I was right, But Christine now vouchsafed what was party clinging fearfully to a clump of grass, rigid truck roofed over in clear plastic and was a massive 8,600 meters. Flying up to going to happen. She informed us of the or a tribesman running barefoot and upright sheet metal. The seats were hard plastic Gilgit we had passed underneath another landslide which, she said, was still going on. down the slope with a sixty-pound rucksack benches. It was a very uncomfortable ride, as huge mountain, Nanga Parbat, the only time On the other side of it was a similar queue of on his head, but mostly we were in a world of the bus rolled alarmingly at every bump and I have ever been on an aircraft with a moun- vehicles that had been coming the other way. dust that only cleared when we arrived sore, dip in the road, and the suspension of the tain above us. I was mesmerized by these big The plan was that, as the truck drivers were torn and indescribably filthy at the bottom. thing had been beefed up rather than mountains, gasping at the plumes of snow already doing, we would transport ourselves Valentine had taken care of Barbara’s loosened, in order to cope with the vicissi- that the roaring wind blew off their summits, and our belongings on foot around the slide, descent by turning around and descending tudes of the highway’s surface. The Kara- like a banner, while we insignificant beings and swap with vehicles now stuck on the with her face to the rocks, enabling her to use koram Highway was, and very likely still is, complained of heat and dust in their shadow. other side. Our jaws dropped at this innova- her arms and legs and getting Barbara to hang a two-lane blacktop without the benefit of a My attention was drawn to the traffic jam tion, as we wondered in our Western way on to her arm. Valentine enjoyed a challenge, white line. It had been built over a long ahead. I was not much interested. how and when the rightful owners of these and was not particularly mindful of her period of time with help from Chinese engi- We had joined a queue of overladen vehicles would reclaim them. Perhaps they dignity, so had enjoyed the experience—she neers spasmodically from the early seventies, trucks and over-occupied cars. There was never would—it did not seem to bother was also a good deal cleaner than Julia and not, as is claimed still by the Chinese, to open nothing to see except the river, a tributary of anyone. (In fact, the bus and lorry drivers just myself. Barbara, despite having been in the up travel and trade between Pakistan and the Indus, maybe a hundred feet below us at swapped passengers and loads.) Christine army throughout the war and inured thereby China, but to enable the Chinese military to the side of the road; a shallow fast-flowing said that these kind Pathan gentlemen (for to various hardships, was still of a mind to carry out a rapid flanking movement in any broad body of water whose waters, I was that is who the beardies were) would be car- have an inquest into whose bloody stupid future conflict with India. Since the Soviet sure, would be mostly icy cold melt water, rying our luggage. We wondered why, since idea this trip was (mine), which inquiry she invasion of Afghanistan, the road had a though they looked brown and dirty. The bus most of it was backpacks, we couldn’t carry renewed at various times all the way to strategic importance to the U.S., and it was was now at a complete standstill with the it ourselves, particularly since the Pathan Beijing. American money that paid for the elite corps engine off. Christine and the driver went off gentlemen, however kind, were surely going Having got down, we took stock of our of Pakistan Army Engineers, who maintained to investigate. We waited, I stayed locked on to be requiring a chunk of rupees at the con- situation. The margin between the slope and it as far as the Chinese border. We very soon to the distant peaks, and we ignored a party of clusion of their labors. the water was quite broad and composed of found out why that maintenance was so vital. men in slightly different dress, with flat But when Christine had casually men- level water-smoothed stones. Valentine Geologically, the Himalayas, the Kara- round caps on, all of them bearded, who had tioned how we would go around the slide on thought that Julia and I might benefit from a korams, the Hindu Kush, the Kun-Lun and walked between the stationary trucks and foot, we had not considered what that would dip in the water first, but I put my hand in it Tien-Shan mountains are the youngest on the now stood gazing at us much as I was gazing involve. We had to get down to the river, and and concluded I’d rather stay dirty. As I sus- planet. Being so youthful, they move about a at the mountains. walk along its margin. This would entail pected, it was teeth-numbingly cold, though lot. I am not speaking here simply of seismic Christine and the driver returned, and descending from the road by a tiny path pre- now that we were closer to it, we could see events, but also of the action that weather and simply said the road was blocked. I don’t viously picked out by goats. Indeed, as we the water was clear and clean. Julia’s jeans , the only pair she had brought, had torn in could feel its passage through the air. I called down, at speed. “Salaam alaikum,” said an these. Being vegetarian was a trial. We some embarrassing spot, and she was, to put to Julia and the others to all join hands with armchair as it went by. I was out of breath, needed a translator, usually, to explain what it mildly, extremely cross about this. She had me and we would all run in line abreast. But and just waved. food we wanted. We usually got boiled rice a safety pin, fortunately. We walked on, Julia declined, Barbara said flatly she and not a lot else. If you wanted the loo, you overtaken every few yards by a local with couldn’t run that fast, and Valentine stated Episode 2: walked down the corridor to a little compart- something apparently unfeasible balanced on that she thought we would do better to run We boarded the train in Urumchi. It was ment, just like trains have in the U.K.. Once his head. Soon we began to meet people com- through it one at a time. Christine came run- a big steam thing, reminiscent of U.S. inside, however, there was a tap and square ing the other way and looking back up to the ning back through the dust to meet us. She Steamers, but a train buff among the party hole in the floor, and that was that. I thought road could see more people coming down the had a bandana of some sort over her face, and assured us its design was Russian, though it must be a Hard Class loo, so I ventured steep slope, including women in burkhas or urged us to do likewise. Though we had not probably built at the Chinese railway works further afield to see if I could find the Soft tribal dress, children and men carrying suit- expected to be needing them so soon, we had at Harbin. The coaches were very spar- Class loo. I headed toward the restaurant car, cases tied up with string, irregularly shaped been warned back in the U.K. about sand and tan—there were two classes of accommoda- through hard class proper. People were per- parcels wrapped in brown paper, and huge the necessity to keep as much as possible of tion: “Hard” and “Soft.” We were in soft, fectly friendly, but exceeding curious. West- holdalls brimming with, well, stuff. They it out of our lungs, so we all had big cloths which had individual compartments with erners were a rarity and we stood out like cir- were all walking upright, I noted. What and hankies stuffed into our pockets and we bunks. We thought these bunks would or cus clowns in our bright T-shirts and multi- wimps we were. quickly wrapped our mouths and noses. should convert to seats, but we were wrong. pocketed trousers in various colors. We were Ahead was a tall line of dust that met the “I will run with Barbara,” said Christine. You sat on the edge of your bunk or stayed in adrift in a sea of blue Mao suits, the only ex- water. I could only see people going into and “No, you won’t,” said Barbara it. They had pillows that were filled with ceptions being the children, who were coming out of the dust, but I was pretty sure “Please just do it,” said Christine. She dried peas. Not my idea of soft, but in hard, dressed up like Christmas presents. Every- they were running. I could not think why. As grabbed Barbara’s arm and ran. We stopped you had no pillow at all, just the same body chewed nuts and spat. The floor in Hard we drew closer Christine came running up looking at each other and ran after them both. wooden seat you had likely sat on all day. Class crunched under your feet as you made from behind. “You must be careful,” she We climbed onto the moving mass of pebbles There were little electric fans on pivots in the your way over solidified nutshells and gob. I said, as she ran past. “What’s the problem?” and small rocks and kept going, trying not to ceiling of the compartment—one did not never found the Soft Class loos, but the res- I called after her—but she was too far ahead slip. A football-sized rock came bouncing work, the other worked but made an taurant car was interesting. All the tea etc. already. Then I saw a rock—quite a big rock, along from my right, and I skidded to a halt to extremely unpleasant noise. Luckily the was served in cool enamel mugs with lids, perhaps the size and shape of a large console let it pass in front of me, comically flailing weather was not so hot as to require them usually emblazoned with a big red star or a TV—and it was airborne. Slowly, it tumbled my arms so that I would not fall backwards, much. Each compartment was provided with picture of Mao, though he had been dead over in the dust-laden air and hit the water then jumped forward and dived into an thermos flasks of hot water. People drink hot more than ten years. Food, too, was eaten off with a mighty splash. Only now did the awful impenetrable cloud of dust. Unable to see a water in China, even when it is boiling plates that had lids. All the food was prepared truth dawn on me—we had to cross the thing, I just ran another half dozen steps, and outside. They do of course have tea, but that in a space hardly bigger than the toilet it was landslide, which was still moving. Christine then I was in the daylight again. I took off my is usually just leaves in the hot water. I had directly adjacent to. It took all day to get to had simply said it was still going on—the bandana, wiped my glasses on my trousers, found in Kashgar that if you asked for Yiwanquen. reality was a river of dust stones and rocks and looked around. Julia was standing in the “Hindoostan Chai” you might get something From there our party boarded a small fleet falling from somewhere way above the road. sun, dust-covered from head to foot, apart approximating what a poor British soul might of big Japanese 4x4s and headed off to the The road having been blasted out of the side from her lower face and circles of pink skin regard as tea, but never with milk. Turfan depression, so called because it is a of the mountain, the dust stones and rocks visible around her eyes. She did not look The train moved a bit faster than Indian big rift and Turfan actually lies below sea were falling onto it, then bouncing off into pleased to see me. “You bastard!” she said. ones, but not by much. The smell of coal and level, at about the same elevation as the Dead the river gorge we were now in. The road was Christine ran back again through the dust the bionic rhythm of the rails gave us broad Sea. Surrounded as it is by the Gurbofung blocked by a great pile of this material, which cloud to round up others of our party. The smiles and we all reminisced about trains that Gobi, the Fire Mountains, and the Takla- moved and added to the downward momen- four of us walked on wordlessly in the sun. used to be. Our first intended stop was makan, Turfan is both remote and one of the tum as it was continuously struck from Above us, more great icy peaks reached into Yiwanquen, where we would leave the train hottest places on Earth. above. the blue of heaven. Now we had to climb and go by road to Turfan. The train stopped at So after our long day on the train, we “Good morning!” called a cheery Pathan, back up to the road, but fortunately this was heaven knows how many places between looked forward to a meal and a good night’s with three bags of cement on his head as he a bit easier than coming down, since a stream Urumchi and Yiwanquen. While there was rest before the rigors of the onward journey. ran past going the other way and evidently had carved a little gorge into which we could food served on board, most people preferred And it seemed, as we crested a big sandy hill, was seized by a desire to practice his English climb and from there we saw a small bridge to get out at each station and buy stuff from that we were in luck. There was a six-story as he went. “Morning.” I replied as courte- carrying the road. We could scramble around vendors on the platform. One particular deli- tower of a hotel, in a curious pink concrete, ously as I could muster, but he was already the pier of the bridge back up. As I was com- cacy of those parts was a sort of deep-fried glowing against the setting sun. We noted as gone. A big shard of some rock or other ing up, an inverted three-piece suite with four locust, in a glazed batter, on a stick. Little we got closer that the desert was reclaiming whizzed across the top of my scalp so close I barefoot pairs of legs protruding was coming kids screamed the walls down if refused what had plainly been laid out gardens, and a large fountain and pool held nothing but sand ceiling had been removed to expose the air Except we didn’t. It wasn’t just the vege- on the backpacks and looked out through the and empty Coke cans. There were no porters conditioning. Plainly it was not working. A tarians either. The various bowls contained window. When we arrived I had not paid or bellhops to help unload or carry our gear, plastic hose hung down at one point, slowly things unidentifiable and, for the most part, much attention to the view, just sandy hills but we cheerfully carried it in ourselves to a dripping water onto the carpet. Judging by cold. I couldn’t even see any rice. One bowl and rocks. Now I realized that I couldn’t see huge, tiled, cool, reception area. There were the soggy carpet, it had been doing that a very proved on examination to be a sort of cous- them. Also, the sky was turning a sort of many signs in German, we noted, and sup- long time. We found our room and inserted cous. Cold couscous. There was a big jug purple, like a bruise. In a blinding flash of posed that even here some great Rhineland the key in the door—there was no need, the with leaves and stalks sticking out. I tried to intuition, I thought to myself, “Oh, right. This tour company had an outpost. Behind the door was not locked. Inside was an ordinary bite into one, but it was like trying to eat the must be a sandstorm!” polished expanse of timber that was the desk, western hotel room, twin beds and a small branch on a tree. Perhaps it was a table With great presence of mind we retired to stood two young girls, rigidly still with eyes bathroom. The loo did not flush, the tank decoration—who could tell? Someone dis- the bathroom, hauled the backpacks in with wide. Our “guide,” who had traveled in the being innocent of water. Washing one’s covered dates; we ate the lot in nothing flat. us and locked the door. The room door, now front of the foremost 4x4 smoking roll-ups hands afterwards was likewise not a pos- Then, in triumph, big tureens were borne liberated, flew open and the wind howled in, and carrying on some sort of monologue— sibility. Our dark suspicions were confirmed aloft from the kitchen. Each had the head and so that even the bathroom door rattled. Julia the driver had not taken a great part in the dis- about the shower as well. Since we had tail of a fish sticking out. With ceremony and sat on the loo, while I sat in the shower. Sand course anyway—now began yelling at the already spent one night in an army barracks, smiles , they were placed on the tables. Each came under the bathroom door in long girls. Christine chipped in with something these were trifling deprivations, but we were, tureen carried an entire fish. Entire, in the fingers, moving on the tiles of the floor, like additional. The girls, on hearing this, looked admittedly, a tad downhearted. We lay on our sense that nothing had been removed. Guts, tentacles of something desperate to reach us. at Christine as if she had that moment beds, and found the covers harbored a fine bones and skin were, as far as could be ascer- “No breakfast this morning then,” said Julia, stepped from an interstellar craft of unknown layer of sand. This drew our attention to the tained, still present. Each fish lay in a stock glumly surveying the sandy tentacles. Then origin. Christine collected our passports and fact that there was no glass in the window so thin that the only way that it would have the light went out. In my time I have slept in the girls bestirred themselves and handed out above the door. On investigation, I found that been possible to determine the difference baths, but I think that was the only time I cards which we were presumably to fill in sand was blowing in through the roof some- between it and hot water would have been by have slept in a shower. When the wind noise and thereby register, but they were entirely in how, and that it had presumably done in the laboratory testing. On Christine’s table and external banging and crashing subsided Chinese. We muttered, scratched our heads, air conditioning as a consequence. someone asked what it was. Christine carried some hours later, we eased our aching bones peered at the characters and dotted lines. We Undeterred, we set out again for the on a brief conversation with those of the out straight and peered around the bathroom asked Christine. “Put down what you like, restaurant, but we could not lock the door to waiting staff who had Mandarin. The conclu- door. The power was not back on, but day- where you like,” she advised. “They can’t our room. The key was quite useless. I sus- sion was that it was fish soup. light shone through, not least from the rooms read it anyway, and nobody in these parts pected that the lock was full of sand. We left Replete with dates and cold couscous, we across the way, whose doors and windows speaks any English. Mr. Tang here”—she our belongings and hoped for the best. We retired to our sandy room, barricaded the were hanging off. I could see a sand dune indicated the “Guide”—“has recently re- had become convinced that our party, Mr. door with our backpacks, and prepared to covering a bed in one of them. The clothes placed the previous official, who at least Tang and the drivers were the only guests in sleep the sleep of the just. I came awake to we had been wearing the night before, which spoke German.” She gave a very Gallic this enigmatic establishment. Christine stood rhythmic banging and a strange light in the we had carelessly left lying on a chair, were shrug. at the door to the restaurant receiving ques- room. The noise was the door, trying to blow gone except for, most fortuitously, my Rohan We did as indicated, and presently were tions and complaints and making excuses in open and being resisted by the backpacks. trousers, which had taken up residence atop issued big brass keys attached to plastic discs response: the hotel had not been open long; a The light was the sun, as filtered through the window. We had been sleeping in our with western numbering. We trudged off to German company built it and ran it until they grains of sand suspended in the air and the underwear and T-shirts. Julia was moved to find our rooms. We got into the lifts, which lost patience with not being paid by some sliding doors onto the balcony outside. I observe that so far on this trip she had got were standing with the doors open. We distant bureaucratic hive in far off Shanghai; started to cough. Julia woke and started to through a pair of jeans, a wrap and a skirt, pressed buttons and waited…and waited… they had not trained the staff properly; it cough also. Like a pair of consumptives we and had not seen anything meriting the and nothing at all occurred. The doors did not wasn’t the staff’s fault; etc. Christine’s rose and staggered about, looking at our description of a shop in thousands of miles. shut, the girls behind the desk shuffled the inclination always to favor the Chinese, watches. It was 8:30 a.m. Beijing time— Our boots and shoes lay like little sandcastles cards we had all filled in, and no one came to particularly the poor peasant at the sharp end, probably only around half past four in reality. in a corner of the room, needing only a paper pick up our gear. Mr. Tang looked curiously was very much in evidence, and perhaps she There were no time zones in China. All flag to recall the beach at Swanage where we at the poor foreign devils standing in the lifts was right. But then there was dinner. official time was Beijing time, around four used to take our holidays when I was a kid. as he went by carrying his shiny briefcase on As in Kashgar and Urumchi, we were hours ahead of where we were. We tried to Making ourselves as presentable as we could, his way to the stairs. seated around big round tables with revolv- close the door, too dopey to think straight; with Julia now in her last skirt, and with our The penny dropped, we trooped out of the ing “Lazy Susan” middles. At length, staff else we would have realized that the absence bandanas covering our faces, we started off lifts, hefted our packs and started up the brought food and placed it on the revolving of any division between inside and outside down the corridor like the bad guys sneaking stairs. Julia and I were on the top floor. In the section. We seized our chopsticks and pre- above the door would mean that the wind was up on the good guys, hoping to meet some of corridor, all the panels in the suspended pared to dive into whatever came around. coming in whatever we did. Giving up, I sat our fellow travelers. At the end, by the lifts, was a guy called Bob cross-legged on the bunk. Had I not had a little screwdriver blade the south, by the Tibetans who for a time week, or last month. So he would dig it out floor, wrapped in a couple of sheets, rather in the Swiss Army knife I was carrying, I forged their own empire right across the again, and he went on like this until he reminiscent of Lawrence of Arabia at a feast would have gone insane. It took me an age to deserts and up into what we now call Siberia. recovered enough finds, particularly old in Faisal’s tent. He told us that his girlfriend unscrew the grille, stopping every time But over hundreds of years, China beat documents or works of art, as he felt justified was in a cupboard opposite, too afraid to someone went by in the corridor outside (no the Tibetans back and subjugated them. the effort in the first place. He finished by come out. There was the sound of a very loud blinds on the windows—not in China), then When Buddhism reached Tibet, around the taking a few glass photo plates of his dig- conversation drifting up the stairs. This cut through the wires to the speaker, and then turn of the tenth century, Tibetans had given gings, and then he moved on. How he proved to be Mr. Tang, haranguing some screw the grille back up. But when I was up on war and empire. Islam came from the achieved this can only be marvelled at, but poor local perhaps on the unacceptable stan- done, I still couldn’t sleep. west and the Turkic peoples of Central Asia this was a man who, surveying a mountain at dard of the weather in these barbarian parts, Xinzhiang had once been known, in the (hence Turkestan) threw off Chinese rule for the northern edge of the Karakorams called or maybe on an abstruse point of party doc- days of Empire, as Chinese Turkestan. Even a time and were ruled instead by Caliphs, Mustagh Ata (“Father of Ice”), decided to see trine—it was difficult to tell. Maybe his as late as the 1890s, it was a large blank on successors to Genghis Khan (who had if it was possible to ride up its fourteen thou- briefcase had blown away. Everyone stood in the map and blanks on the map were a matter avoided the deserts), in Samarkand and even sand feet or so on the back of a yak. It was. at least a quarter-inch of sand, and it was still for grave concern in the Calcutta corridors of Baghdad. But the imperatives of trade led the Jolly good. blowing in through windows and doors. power. A blank on the map could harbor an Caliphs to concede territory and their peoples There were some Germans, a professor Passing Mr. Tang and the others, we entire Russian division. The struggle once again fell under Chinese dominion. and a museum handyman who calmly trudged down the stairs, arriving back in the between Britain and Russia for control of Chinese rule was distant and largely benign, strolled around the region, stripping ages-old lobby. Here, no one had thought to lock the India’s northwestern approaches was the and nobody troubled the empire, if the wall murals out of caves, a Russian (the doors and sand was blasted over the walls main reason for expeditions being sent there, empire did not trouble them. famous explorer Nikolai Prezhavelsky) who and furniture. We looked in the restaurant, even though both Russia and Britain had pre- It was still like this when the Swedish was always passing through trying to get to more in hope than expectation, and found a viously guaranteed to refrain from trespass- explorer Sven Hedin rode roughshod over Lhasa, and later still an American and a number of our party, including Christine, ing on the Chinese Empire’s territory. But, in British officialdom and into these nominally Japanese. They were all brave, somewhat drinking tea—that is, leaves and water. We fact, China only possessed the territory by a Chinese backwaters in 1890. On his second insane men, now characterized by the joined them, but we soon found that food was historical default. expedition in 1895, Hedin crossed the Takla- Chinese as robbers and desecrators. Not that out of the question, There was probably a A hundred years before the common era, makan desert, from Kashgar to the southeast, the Chinese saw any value in any of it until sand dune in the kitchen now, though that Romans believed the silk that got traded with the vague notion of going on to Tibet in after these men had been and bore off what probably wouldn’t have affected what came through the many markets of the near east that direction. The Taklamakan desert is they had previously done nothing to conserve out of it too much. grew on trees, somewhere in a country then probably the highest above sea level of any themselves. called Balkh, now part of Afghanistan. In desert in the world, and the hottest. An entire When the train reached Hami, a number Episode 3: China, the first Han empire had only recent river, the Daria, rises in the Kun-Lun moun- of us got out to stretch our legs on the plat- We arrived back at Yiwanquen three days learned of countries they had never previ- tains, enters the Taklamakan and evaporates. form. This was the first time I had done this, after we had left the train there. The train ously suspected the existence of. Furthest and The perpetually shifting sands have covered since I suffered grave anxiety about the train from Urumchi arrived around eight in the largest of these was Li-Jien—Rome. Both and uncovered many oasis towns and settle- leaving without warning—which it seemed evening—later than when we arrived, and I empires were at least as inward looking as the ments over millennia. Their ruins lie there to do, although it moved so slowly it was not thought it was late then. We had the most other, but through the intermediate kingdoms still covered by dunes, waiting for the wind to difficult for people even to wait for their amazing moonlit view of the desert and in the and empires that lay between, an organized brush them clean again. They nearly covered change and still scramble back on. I distance snow-capped mountains, puffs of trading network became established. Silk and up Hedin. Only he and one porter escaped wandered about the platform, recalling the smoke from the engine making them appear spices and pottery went west. Glass, armor alive. adventures of such folk as Sven Hedin and and disappear. It was a hot night, and the and leather goods went east. In the nineteenth A little later came Sir Aurel Stein. Aurel Stein in this desert oasis. I looked over compartment we were in this time had no century, Baron Ferdinand von Richthofen Though born in Hungary, he was as eccen- a fence and saw the long thin sticks that fans at all. We could open the window a bit, named this network of routes “The Silk trically British as it is possible to imagine, Chinese use for grave markers—hundreds of but the powers that be had decided that Soft Road.” China had conquered most of the accompanied by his faithful bearers, not least them, all standing in rows, all with red stars Class should be “entertained” as the rest of territory west from Xian in order to expel the of which was his Jack Russell terrier, Dash. on them…most bizarre. They might have the train, with non-stop tinny pop music from Huns, nomadic warriors who preyed on No matter what happened to his dogs, been the graves of combatants in some Hong Kong. trading caravans and threatened the whether they met some awful fate or died of engagement in the civil war or during the Mindful as I was of the consequences of approaches to Xian. It was to keep them out old age, they were always called Dash and famine that was The Great Leap Forward. being caught committing an act of criminal that the first of a number of “Great Walls” they went everywhere he went. He excavated Perhaps more likely was that they were the damage in a totalitarian state, I nevertheless was built. The Huns were driven further west in the Taklamakan. That is, he dug into the graves of those who had built the railway felt compelled to do something about the and still later became a nuisance to Persia and sand, which blew back again, then covered line, probably dissident political prisoners, little speaker directly above my ear on the top Rome. Later still, China was threatened from up what he had done the day before, or last though I fancy they might not have got red stars—or perhaps that was a final insult by bridge and Lye in my youth—coal smoke the Party. Further speculation was halted by hanging heavy on the air and filling the back the great moaning whistle of the locomotive of your throat as the day gets hotter. and the screaming couplings of the carriages That should have been the end of the road, as they took the strain. Instantly I sprinted for and we celebrated with a little party at the the nearest carriage door, clambering over Lanzhou zoo, drinking Coke and taking Mao suits and ignoring the threats and impre- pictures of the pandas. But the plane we had cations of Julia, running as fast as her little hoped to get to Xian and Beijing was a day legs would carry her as the train moved up late, and triple or quadruple booked. Finding from, say, two miles per hour to five. I did this out took the whole day at the local air- manage to grasp her arms and pull her in, but port, before we went back to the station. I was still being roundly abused twenty Waiting again for a train, we were served a minutes later as the train hit cruising speed. culinary treat: chips, fried in oil with coarse Well into the next day we got off the train black pepper. That was the best thing we had again at Anxi for another excursion. A short to eat on the entire trip. When our train came distance out of Anxi we crossed the railway it was diesel-hauled and had compartments track and saw the train going the opposite with little chintz curtains at the windows. way, from Lanzhou. To come up the incline When it arrived through fertile fields and it had two great oily steamers hauling it. A green hills in Xian, we disembarked to a hotel terrific noisy sight. But the 4x4 we were with proper flush loos and the second being driven in could have turned round and McDonalds in all of China right across the MIKE GLICKSOHN his living as an architect—although I suppose that beaten it back to Anxi. street. By these signs did we know we had It seems like decades since I sat down to send sort of thing is not uncommon in fandom. Unless We rejoined the train at Yumen and then reached “civilization.” a LoC to Trap Door but it’s probably only lus- we know another fan in person, we tend to know went to the end of that particular line at Lanz- —John Nielsen Hall trums. I certainly appreciate that you kept sending a lot about what they do in fandom and little (if hou. Lanzhou was very reminiscent of Stour- me issues out of respect for my earlier activities anything) of what they do in “real” life. and chose to ignore my recent inactivity. The really stunning (to me) thing about Some things don’t change (and that’s a good Grant’s piece is how much he remembers about thing): Trap Door is still a well-produced, well- the places and people and events in his pro- Another Calvin Demmon Memory designed, well-illustrated fanzine filled with writ- fessional life. I taught for 35 years but couldn’t fill by Don Fitch ing that runs the gamut from good to really good. more than a page about amusing or insightful What did surprise me, though, considering my things that took place over those years. (I hasten to Calvin was perhaps the Best Person I’ve ever had the good fortune to know, and I’m long absence from your pages, was that of the 46 add that this isn’t because such things didn’t sorry he’s no longer making the world a better place than it otherwise would be. people who contributed to the issue (that includes happen but because I can’t remember them. A That he was A Very Humorous Fellow was immediately obvious from his writing; people short-quoted in the WAHFs) I recognized lousy memory is one of the curses of the drinking that he was also an extreme Wise person, filled with (for lack of a better word) Loving- 40 names. Trap Door, The Fanzine of Old Pharts! class, I guess.) kindness, might have taken a bit longer to appreciate. I do hope a collection (or selection) I retired last June and thought I might try and For the same reasons, I thoroughly enjoyed of his writings will somehow be made available. (For years—two or three decades, resurrect my career as a letterhack and also work Jeff Schalles’ reminiscences. I had one job for 35 on sorting and shelving the twenty paper boxes of years, 34 of them at the same school in the same now—I’ve been sorry, whenever thinking about him, that we were no longer in any kind fanzines stored in my basement. Seven months room. There was more variety in a couple of of contact, and “that’s the way the world goes” really wasn’t much help, but…he was later neither task has been started, let alone Jeff’s summers than in my entire working career. someone who almost always got his priorities right.) accomplished, but we’ll see what the future And I strongly suspect that working on movie I’ve often wondered how much Calvin was being Humorous and how much he was brings. (This attempt to discover whether or not shoots is inherently more likely to lead to tellable being Profound when he said “If you keep people laughing hard enough, they won’t hit writing LoCs is like riding a bicycle should be anecdotes than teaching Calculus. (I can attest to you.” considered a one-off rather than the first step to a Jeff’s excellence with a camera: he took one of the I also have fond memories of the few months when Calvin and I were both attending new and glorious chapter in my fannish career.) two best pictures of me that have ever been taken.) LASFS meetings every Thursday and—though we engaged in only brief grease-for-the- Grant’s article was fascinating and enjoyable Michael Dobson’s article is intriguing to a social-gears conversation—ritually exchanged thick envelopes containing multi-page reading. (It seems unfair that someone who draws semi-Luddite. (My computer is used for e-mail— (typed on both sides, with hardly any margin, even though postage cost wasn’t a factor) so well can also out-write a large percentage of like this attempt at a LoC—as a typewriter and to fans.) Although I first started using Grant’s play Free Cell.) Now I’m old enough to remember letters filled with the kind of stuff that was Really Important to both of us at the time. artwork 35 years ago, I had no idea that he earned Paint By Numbers, although I don’t remember —Don Fitch —40— ever doing one, but the middle section of the piece because if you’re watching the scenery the “I’ve told Chris [his wife] to sell it to the highest dominant form, some people would simply not be may be just as fictitious as the final section for all chances are the trip (and your life) will be much bidder.” I didn’t have the foresight to query as to doing fanzines at all if not for electronic dis- I know. Is it? shorter than expected! I do recall crossing from whether he meant the highest solo bidder or the tribution. Arnie Katz and Earl Kemp are two Carol’s 26 (yes, I’m still anal) cross-sections Florida into Georgia, though, and reading a sign highest price to multiple bidders for separate parts prime and prolific examples. As for printing out of her life were great fun to read (except maybe which had four words, one on each line vertically, of the whole. In any event, he probably simply the zines on Bill’s Website, I only do some of them. the wasp one which caused severe wincing.) A and appeared to read MOTORCYCLES USE wanted to provide as generously as he could for I suspect that my selectivity is typical. Readers?} couple of reactions... CAUTION RIPPLES. “What the fuck are his wife. Grant’s article on his career as an architect I live in a two-story house built in the 1920s. “caution ripples?” I wondered until I got to the The letter section was particularly interesting was interesting, well written and a lot of fun, with There are twelve stairs and a 180-degree turn section of highway where the blacktop had been in this issue. In former times people used to a great ending. Who could ask for anything more? down to the basement (six, landing, turn, one, removed, revealing the corrugated under compare ages at which they had begun reading The details of someone else’s job can be intrin- landing, turn, five) so I cannot imagine a house structure. As I fought to control the bike, I swore SF; now it is when they became active in sically boring, as my wife knows all too well. But that has forty steps leading to the basement and wondered how much a colon after the third fandom—an entirely different thing and depen- Grant spices up his details with elements we can (unless your basement has 20-foot ceilings?) {It’s line would have cost the State of Georgia. dent on their milieu as well as other factors. For all relate to: on the job politics, dickhead bosses, 40 steps from the road/carport down to the base- I always enjoy Ted White writing about events example, it would probably be easier to begin if and personal triumphs. At times the detail does ment, but 18 of them are outside. There are three and people in fandom before I became active, you lived in a city than in a small town (where come across as a list of things—but this makes the 90-degrees turns to negotiate, all inside.} perhaps even more than when he writes about face to face fan contacts would be statistically rest of it flow as well. And it does flow—very I’d love to get my basement finished so I fill events and fans from my own time as a fan. I fewer). tightly written with specifics that stick out even as every wall with shelves and get all of my books usually wonder if Ted’s recollections of things I enjoy your having carefully filed all your I type this: capping out the arches I’m sure out of the boxes they are now in (except for the past are accurate but unless someone contradicts fanzines. How do you file your correspondence? resonates with anyone who has been on a major ones on the fourteen bookcases scattered around his version of things I’ll accept them. Fanhistory Sam Moskowitz was meticulous in filing his stuff. project. the house.) So why don’t I? Oh, there are about is endlessly fascinating to me, even after Some of his methods seemed unorthodox, but “Every Man A Rembrandt” raised a few eighty thousand reasons. near-gafiation for fifteen years. whenever I asked about some fannish matter he hackles with me: it is all about the content! The Bruce Townley piece is like the Michael Lots of discussion in the lettercol about was always able to locate what was needed to give Playing with the net and other PC tools is great Dobson piece. I recognize a lot of real references e-zines and paper zines but for me, Rich Coad a responsive reply. (One of his unorthodoxies was entertainment and loads of fun. Some of the but I don’t know how much of what I don’t sums it all up best. I should probably steal his first filing all postcards he received together. He felt it results of these are laugh-out-loud funny and very recognize is nevertheless real or the product of paragraph, print it on a card, and hand it to anyone not only saves space but prevented them from creative. But I’m reminded of my early fanzine (what always used to be in the old days) the very who wants me to become a part of fanzine- getting lost.) {I don’t save most correspondence. days and, as ATom memorably advised me, “It strange mind of Mr. Townley. Whatever the fandom-as-she-is-today. Letters of comment are another matter, though— doesn’t matter what you have to say. If people breakdown is, it was fun to read. Anyone interested in real history written by a each issue’s are in a separate envelope and all are can’t read it, there’s no point.” Now that crud- Enter Dan Steffan, another fine artist who fan would do well to try and find a copy of The stored, along with original manuscripts, artwork, zines can be produced perfectly, electronically writes with above average ability and style. His Improbable Irish, written by Walt Willis under paste-ups and “camera ready” originals, in a trio and exactly the same for each copy (using the lengthy trip report was a great deal of fun to read the pen-name Walter Bryan. I have a 1969 Ace of boxes. Every now and then I think that if times tools that Michael mentions) it is even more about (except for the harrowing conditions on part of the paperback (and I’ve no idea if any other editions get hard I might be able to pick up a few extra the content. So I have to disagree with his pre- return drive) but once again I’m left wondering were published) but it’s a wonderful history filled bucks auctioning off my poctsarcd LoCs from mise—technology cannot free us from the lack of how someone can remember such an incredible with the wit and insight Walt brought to his Bloch.} talent, it just exposes that lack even more clearly. wealth of detail about a fairly long trip, even if fanwriting. {There’s also a Taplinger hardcover, Readers of the various crudzines I’ve produced was a fairly recent one. Perhaps Dan (a) has and both are readily available in a book search TOMMY FERGUSON over the years will all too readily agree with that! perfect recall, (b) took copious notes about the on-line in a wide range of prices and condition.} I was taken by some of your comments on the As Eugene Doherty memorably ripped off from roads, the weather, the scenery and a dozen other So there you are. Somewhat jejune but it’s use of the Web to publish fanzines and the level of someone, “I didn’t know you couldn’t write well topics or (c) made a lot of it up. Of course, Dan is been a long time off the bike! And I hope to hear response generated from that. Although I’m very until you learned to type!” the epitome of honesty which rules out (c) and (a) from you before 2009! taken with the Web as a forum I’m not convinced, Jeff Schalles’ film school article was fun— is very rare so that leaves (b). I’ll probably never either, that it is the way forward for fanzine snapshots of life—the creative drive versus the know. (When I wrote an almost 50-page fanzine A. LANGLEY SEARLES publishing. Bill Burns is doing a great job—I production of daily life. Reminds me of the sales about my time in Australia in 1975 as a Fan Guest It was good to know that Harry Warner’s really believe his best efforts are merely to capture guys in the bank I work with versus the support of Honor of the Worldcon, I took several pages of fanzine collection will remain intact in its new some zines that would otherwise not be saved and staff who make it happen. I’m sure this division notes for each day of the trip but I’m sure others ownership. I hope it will also become more make them more accessible. But I don’t think it is of work and aspiration is to be found everywhere with less-abused brains than I have can do such accessible to historians and other interested getting people more involved in fandom and in life. reports without them.) parties than it was when Harry owned it. I was fanzines. How many people, for example, I really enjoyed the other articles as well— My longest road trips were back in the days sorry to see that Sam Moskowitz’s collection was actually print out the zines from the site rather slice of life from Carol—and the letters reminded when I took my motorbike from Toronto to broken up after his death, and I wonder if Sam than just skimming through them on-line? I know me of the last couple of issues which I’ve just dug Florida and back a couple of times but one tends ever visualized that happening. I once asked him I certainly fall in the latter camp. {Although in an out. Great zines and wonderful artwork. Which not to really notice the scenery on such a drive what he had planned its destiny to be, and he said, ideal world paper fanzines would remain the leads neatly into the Bob Tucker article. A great fan and I love the whole idea of the Tucker Hotel: the TSR show room at the American International harm to them if called to testify before Congress TIM MARION the sort of irreverent and yet reverent nonsense Toy Fair one year. His handlers, who treated him after some incident. I can certainly understand your discour- that makes fandom so much fun to be a part of. sort of like an advanced Alzheimer’s patient, Take the ban on box cutters on airplanes agement after all the work you put into Trap Trap Door is another part of that. accompanied him. I said, “I’m a big fan; I’ve been because some of the 9/11 hijackers used them. Door—it’s both attractive and well-written, and with you since FF #4.” There’s no risk to flyers if hijackers have box mostly seems to avoid all those silly fictional MICHAEL DOBSON “Where the hell were you for the first three?” cutters, really. “I have a box cutter! Fly this jet combination spoofs I see in so many fanzines At first glance, I got the impression that Trap he said with a grin, put his arm around my into the nearest tall building!” nowadays (where the entire wit and humor of the Door No. 24 had some sort of theme to it, but— shoulder, and let me show him around. For about Box cutters weren’t the weapon. Expectation piece seems to consist of little more than making well, nope. Lack of theme notwithstanding, it was, ten minutes, I was his best friend in the world, management was the weapon. Pre-9/11, smart as many references as possible). {“Mostly”!?} as always, a delightful issue. I’m glad to see you even though I know he forgot who I was within money said sit down, shut up, and do what the Lack of response is almost certainly one reason following in the fine faanish tradition of minutes after leaving the showroom. I was nice hijacker says. Today, if some joker with a why I stopped doing Terminal Eyes. Well, that editorializing on “why this issue is late.” impressed. In the unlikely event I ever become box cutter tries to hijack a plane, I’ll have to stand and the expense. I too was discouraged by mere I share with Grant Canfield a discomfort with famous, I’ll use Stan as my model of how to in line to get my chance to kick him. That weapon email responses such as, “Thanks for the zine.” high places, so I read the description of him nearly behave. Everyone should have the chance to go could be used only once. People who responded that way were quickly cut taking an eight-story dive with a certain amount of “out into the foggy night beaming a satisfied fan In a way, I pity some traditional hijacker. “I off my list as I don’t consider that a legitimate sphincter tightening of my own. This may be a boy’s grin.” want to go to Cuba! No, really! I don’t want to fly response. {It’s a dangerous thing to do here, too.} side consequence of my having limited depth I enjoyed Dan Steffan’s travelogue a lot, into any buildings; I want to live as much as you In this issue I expected to enjoy the Grant Can- perception, but my skin begins to crawl if I’m less though I wonder how many invitations he’s going do!” No one will believe him. But TSA officials field piece the most, since I remember how than five feet away from an unconstrained drop. to get after confessing his intention to “fart in their have safeguarded themselves against their most helpless with laughter some of his fanwriting from I’m not fond of flying, either, although I do way hot tubs and look through their medicine important risk: “We have banned the weapons the 1970s made me. Indeed, I remember writing too much of it. The DC area equivalent of White cabinets.” Fortunately, I don’t have a hot tub. He’s used by the 9/11 hijackers. Don’t blame us.” Grant at that time and complimenting on him on Castle is Little Tavern, with the same little grease welcome to check out the medicine cabinet; it’s I love organizational dynamics. The way something in Frank Lunney’s new fanzine squares and onions. A girlfriend of mine many pretty boring. people behave as individuals is funny enough, but (Syndrome), and he wrote me back a card, “Have years ago worked at a Little Tavern, and I became I admire Ted White’s graciousness in putting the way they behave as groups is even more been receiving great, greasy, gooey, gobs of a fairly regular devotee during her tenure. an end to the argument with rich brown by perverse. For example, the management guru egoboo for my fan writing lately…strange The applause Grant received was surely well claiming in print it had all been a hoax. It was Martin Weisbord observed that the center of sensation.” But at the time Grant’s writing had deserved, and I particularly like that he identified indeed an elegant solution. It occurs to me, power in an organization resides with the depart- me just as entertained as his cartoons. This piece, the reason: “We know you’re actually listening to though, that there is another possible inter- ment in charge of the last major failure. That however, was more a rambling autobiographical us.” I’ve worked with project managers of all pretation of rich’s later behavior when he acted as seems completely backward, but note: if the piece than something inspirational for belly- stripes over many years, and it’s interesting to me if he believed Ted’s hoax-resolution was what company’s hemorrhaging money, the finance laughs. Nonetheless, it was great to get a slice of how often even experienced and skilled project actually happened. When people get that department runs the show. If you lose a big law- life from this fascinating person. Grant need not managers miss the fundamentals. Real listening is defensive about an untenable position, the issue is suit, legal is in the driver’s seat. If there’s a strike, worry about “boasting”—he has every right to be a skill, and one that a lot of people don’t seem to often not about believing themselves to be correct, labor relations is in charge. proud of himself for being at the top of his chosen have mastered. but rather wanting desperately to avoid the Take FEMA pre-Katrina. FEMA combines profession. Carol Carr once quoted Terry as saying, embarrassment, shame, or loss of face that comes civil defense and natural disaster response, and Another entertaining piece was Jeff Schalles’, “Carol’s natural medium is the postcard.” What I with admitting public defeat. If he had been really the people in each area naturally think of their as his story had a point and a resolution, making it admire is how she manages to compress an entire that serious about his position, he would have concerns as primary. The last failed pre-Katrina a brief, satisfying read. I somewhat fondly story into so few words, and wrap it up so neatly. fired back angrily when Ted labeled it a hoax. By crisis was, of course, 9/11, and with FEMA remember when Jeff lived here in New York; “You might think this was a package deal, but saying, “I was really having a hard time sup- moved into Homeland Security, the civil defense apparently Jeff has quite a talent for being able to you’d be wrong.” “Check, check, check, hack, porting my own position with a straight face,” he people are in charge. As a result, the natural bull his way into almost any job. Considering check, hack, hack.” “What would Ram Dass say?” may have meant, “I was wrong, and thanks for not disaster people screaming about Katrina find it what a demanding job Jeff is writing about here, I Genius. making me admit it.” But, as Ted said, he ulti- hard to get the organization to move, and when am glad he made the decision to gafiate from It’s always risky to meet your idols, so I’m mately did accept the situation with grace and they request support (“I need you to release your gaffering (I sure hope no one else has said that!). glad Bruce Campbell lived up to Bruce Townley’s good humor. trucks!”), other concerns trump them (“Give you Nice reading Ron Bennett’s letter in the letter expectations. (It must have been the name. Gotta Jay Kinney identified some of the more absurd my trucks? Don’t you understand that this is the column…until the end, where you reveal that he love the name.) I met Dr. Seuss once, and he elements of Postal Service security. As a frequent perfect time for Osama to strike?”). too has passed. Damn, Robert, I must have spaced snarled at me when I asked if he’d autograph two air traveler, I deal with the TSA equivalents all the Now, of course, Katrina is the last failed out on that! Yet another disappointment to me, books. I had to get over the mental image of that time. (I wish I had a business making 3 oz. bottles. FEMA crisis, so the shoe is on the other foot. That following fast on the news of Lee Hoffman’s cranky old man when my son was at the age to I’d be able to retire in a year.) There is a certain means that now is a much better time for Osama et death. I really enjoyed reading Ron’s letters in hear “From there to here/from here to there/funny rationality and logic to the seeming madness, as al. to act. People. Can’t live with them, can’t Trap Door, as well as his account of dealing things are everywhere.” long as you know what risks they’re really trying shoot them. comic books in England. At the other extreme, I gave Stan Lee a tour of to avoid. It’s not so much harm to you, but the I wanted to mention that I appreciated Carol’s amusing, faanish, almost tipsy-humorous tidbits squares, curved plastic guides to various radii or bearing a single curved sheet of glass half the surrounded by mud, broken drainpipes and a —they added a much-needed note of levity to transitions (“railway curves”), etc.—and created width of the room, with a kind of miniature aerial waiting sub-agent. Distance lends enchantment to Trap Door. Although in some ways Trap Door is a clear flat area for playing table tennis ropeway slung overhead. This was the arc-lamp the view. Thanks, Grant, for reminding me of all similar to Mota in terms of content, one thing the (“ping-pong”). This tournament, rather than the exposure device accompanying the ammonia that. latter had going for it was a wild sense of humor, Fireplace Races of Grant’s workplace, was the printer. I would lay a transparent drawing over almost reminiscent of the underground comix main theatre for rivalries. Tidy work and light-sensitive coated paper, then place both GREG BENFORD (especially with Dan Steffan doing so much of the professional pride were individual rather than around the outside of the glass, and pull a I'd like to see Grant Canfield in person again, graphics!). I suppose this could be a reflection of competitive, and the only serious aggression over tarpaulin up tight to hold them in place. Check the since this article reminds me that he's a fascinating the times—perhaps the mid-‘70s were a much drawings occurred during competition to draw lamp rods and the glass globe, replace as guy. I liked the interwoven tech details of archi- more carefree time than now. At the time I was ever more elaborate north points on the larger necessary. Next, I cranked up the overhead tecture, the sense of a job well done in a pro- living in it, I wouldn’t have thought that it was drawings. (The small foolscap land plans had to cables, threw the switch (fingers crossed for no fession that delivers to clients who care and such a “carefree era.” But there it is. Or was. suffer rubber-stamped north points, by order.) electric shocks) and stood back as the lamp flared appreciate. {Depends on your perspective—from mine on the The environment was all-male except for a and lurched its way across the drawing. After the Same for Jeff Schalles—I get the feel of what commune in the woods of Tennessee, it wasn’t few secretaries. We bought our own drafting exposure, I extracted the print paper and fed it into this work is like. As a boy I worked on southern very carefree, either.} tools, ditto our tea and coffee. My starting salary the long slot of the developing machine where Alabama farms, and remember both the pleasure in U.S. terms would have been 75¢ per hour, and ammonia fumes turned its yellow lines and letters of physical labor and the clear idea that in the long DAVID REDD glad to get it. I also checked house-purchase land into rather variable brown print. I don’t remember run it might be better to work inside and sit down Grant Canfield’s “Thrilling Architect Stories” searches for impending road schemes, and plotted how we disposed of the spent ammoniacal fluid, a bit, too. My relatives who stayed in farming got —wow, another Golden Age heading— Golden road accidents on strip maps—the black spots but I’m sure we could be prosecuted for it now. beaten down badly by age fifty, and not many Age of Dan Steffan, that is. Lovingly detailed indicating deaths were a powerful argument for Again there was only one basement door. Right lived long lives. (My grandfather died of lockjaw —the sight of rivets can take an old-time fan right improvements. beside a dodgy fuse box. I survived, though, to (!) before the tetanus shots.) So I went first into back… Working conditions weren’t too dissimilar to see a shiny new all-in-one machine arrive in an engineering and then quickly realized I liked my I see that Grant’s mid-‘60s life ran fasci- Grant’s, although the perks were even less. The above-ground room with windows. Took all the physics pure and undiluted. Eventually I became natingly parallel to my own. From 1967 on I short wall with our one door (fire exits? Hah!— fun out of life. a mathematical physicist, then went back to doing worked in the County Surveyor’s drafting room this was 1968!) had some file drawers and a The real fun was going out on survey: open experiments and running labs—mostly because (UK: drawing office) whereas at Grant’s Rapido- miscellaneous work area including the tea table air, meeting people, creating plans out of a few there's nothing like hands-on work. Nature bats graphs were replacing the old drawing pens. Here and sink. Here I learned to sluice ink from nibs, marks and measurements. And how we measured last. too were electric erasers, little sandpaper blocks, persuade the smaller Rotring Rapidographs not to things… I hammered nails into the roads as Ted White on rich brown: Yep, a feisty guy, drafting powder (“pounce”), drafting tape seize up, mix water-colors, and wash out failed reference points, then wound up the links of my a true career fan, and I miss him. Jay Kinney (“masking tape”), and huge sheets or rolls of linen drawings into dust-rags. The latter was a surveyor’s chain into wheatsheaf formation, held seems similar in these delightful rants—a drawing paper—the largest usable sheet being mark of shame. Thus the new plastic film was the handles and flung it out so that two of us could seldom-recognized art form. Reminds me of “double elephant” size, although they were small real progress; errors could be scratched out at least stretch it out on the road between nails. That was Lenny Bruce. elephants. once by razor blade—although the evidence did technology for you. (In college, they also taught Nobody can outwrite Carol, of course. She We worked at drawing boards with the usual remain visible. us plane-table surveying, basically sketching to wasn’t made for the production-mode fiction parallel-motion aids, or on the big central table Those water-colors were used for the last scale as practiced by the troops in India; could still writer life: those folk really do have the narrative when long paper rolls were needed for drawing vestige of Victorian engineering art—the be useful if the Empire ever comes back.) In later drive that spews works out through their fingers. long road schemes. We calculated minor details hand-coloring of the cut-and-fill sections on our years I left the Council. I passed from pencil- I was that way in the ‘70s and ‘80s and most of the with books of seven-figure logarithms; more highway drawings. I also painted a pink wash and-paper to AutoCAD, moved from hand- ‘90s, but now see other things to do in life. I still complex design coordinates were calculated by across land acquisition plans, sometimes on major thrown steel chains to EDM computer surveying, write about a book a year, still…and lord help us, the County Treasurer’s computer, occupying schemes but more usually those slivers of field and in fact moved altogether from design into even write for fanzines! (Please don't tell anyone several rooms nearby and communicating corners being acquired for smoothening bends. overseeing construction on-site. But in all that in SFWA.) Not surprised she was a crack chess through punch-holes on little rolls of coloured (One of our Divisional Surveyors usually Grant is dead right about one thing—I always player, either. paper—“baby bumf” as we called it, and wheedled farmers into donating those little strips, needed to draw. Without my little site drawings Trap Door is the best print fanzine around. relatively advanced technology. (As late as ’69, but this could backfire later if we needed more done with my ‘60s skills, the road designs I Alas, its circulation is too small to reach the studying Fortran at college I wrote every single land and the farmers realised that what they’d worked to could have given us curbs with audience we need. But your sure editorial skills line of code onto its own file card, and teams of given away was worth money.) zig-zags, or junctions meeting the main road two tell true—this may be your best issue yet. secretaries then typed punch-holes into the Grant’s rotary diazo print technology was meters in the air. I admit the site foreman could cards…. The first digital pocket calculators ahead of ours. A dark and not very dry basement have corrected matters without me, eventually, JOHN PURCELL didn’t reach us until ’72.) held the County Council filing records, gradually but the resulting contractor’s claim would have Grant Canfield’s architectural stories were fun That long central table was the location for a decomposing and soon to disappear in the been horrendous. to read. My older daughter’s boyfriend is entering fiercely upheld tradition. Every lunchtime we reorganisation of 1974. Beside the file shelves lay Drawing. Strange what pleasures I could find his senior year at UT-Arlington as an architecture removed the drawings and equipment—scales, set another Victorian relic: a long metal frame in work, late and alone in a leaky gaslit Portakabin major, and has spent the past two summers intern- ing at a firm in downtown Houston. When I spent convention, too. office branch nearest here however is not as bad as Harlan Ellison, who was the GoH at Minicon last five weeks staying with him at his apartment in Bruce Campbell is a funny actor (“I am a Fan his—I don’t have to stand in line to mail a year. He signed my book and kissed my hand. Houston last summer while teaching summer Boy”), and I really enjoyed him in The Adventures package with the postage on it. I was told to just No, I didn’t wash it for quite awhile afterwards. session classes at North Houston College, I had of Brisco County, Jr. many years ago. I have bring it up and lay it on a counter space they have I loved Jay Kinney’s rant. I too rant all the the chance to see some of his work. He’s quite watched a couple of these Evil Dead movies on for that. I have also been told that this rule applies time, and so do a lot of people. There are so many talented. His models are impressive, and I really the Sci-Fi channel and found them suitably only to packages with actual stamps as postage. If things that piss me off, and it seems to be getting like some of the lines he’s developed. campy. If you take them with thirteen pounds of you use one of the systems that make printed worse all the time. Are people more inconsiderate It is a good thing Grant wasn’t afraid of salt and accept them as fluffy entertainment, postage you can mail it anywhere it will fit, than they ever have been? If I get started on this I heights—I would have peed my pants doing some they’re a lot of fun to watch. Campbell has a great whatever the weight. could write for pages and pages. But all I can say of the things he did back in his younger days. sense of tongue-in-cheek humor, and that’s a good is that someday I hope to sit on a package with Working on the Gateway Arch would have been trait in this business. HOPE LEIBOWITZ eggs in it, when people occupy the seat next to fascinating. I have always wondered how they put Last year at AggieCon 37, I think I surprised The Grant Canfield article was amazing. them on the bus with their bag. I have sat on many together things like that. Even more astonishing is and amused Peter Mayhew by simply talking with Hearing his story about the people clapping was bags to date, but no eggs yet. thinking about all of those ancient massive him instead of fawning all over him asking for an really great. I never had a moment like that in any structures like the Parthenon, the Pyramids, and autograph and so on. Mayhew’s a pretty cool job. It actually made me a bit envious! As to the ANDY SAWYER especially those European cathedrals of the 12th dude. Huge, too. But I learned years ago that most lunches when he was an apprentice—yikes! I I shuddered at Grant Canfield’s account of the to 16th centuries. I always wonder how in the celebrities prefer to be treated like normal used to like going to White Castle once in a while catwalk handrail giving way. I don’t do heights world did those people ever figure out shit like humans, not as some kind of pedestal-climbing when I lived in the Bronx, but every day? I think myself and this passage moved from being a that? Then I remember reading Sarum by Edward deity of the month. Bruce Townley’s article that would have palled quite quickly. I went a few mildly interesting, always-fun-to-hear-about- Rutherfurd and how mesmerizing the story of the reminded me of this, even though Bruce admits years ago when I was at a con, and someone someone’s-life piece about something I don’t building of Salisbury Cathedral was. Rutherfurd he’s a fan boy underneath it all. I probably am too, drove. It was exactly as I remembered it. know anything about to the “oh shit!” recollection did his homework and made his narrative enter- but prefer not to show it. This year Richard Hatch The Jeff Schalles article was interesting. I of times in my life when similar things have taining and educational. from Battlestars Ponderosa and Galactica will be have seen that Emma Bull trailer for “War for the happened. One was the occasion at school when “Every Man a Rembrandt!” reminded me to at AggieCon, so I will continue my habit of Oaks” at Minicon and it was very impressive. I after an unusually heavy fall of snow we all stole use some of the fonts and fun stuff available on simply saying hi and chatting up the media guest was so hoping the movie would get made, as I’ve whatever flat objects we could use as sledges and software we have here at home on my zines. I just of honor. It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it. read the book too and it was also very good, even headed for the nearest steep slope. I was having a get too lazy to dredge out the discs, relying on though I’m more into hard SF. I was amused by wonderful time until I fell off whatever I was Word Art and the drop-down font menu for a little NED BROOKS the sentence “The mountain lion who guides me sledging on and found myself laying across the variety. This was a helpful little article and Excellent memoir by Grant Canfield. I didn’t had returned.” I have known Jeff for a long time, track staring at the guy behind heading towards maybe, just maybe, I will hunt down LogoCreator know he was an architect. I remember the drafting and I can almost picture him saying that. me on his sheet of metal, closing my eyes to feel and some of the other items Michael Dobson equipment he describes—we had it where I Carol’s article was great. The short bits were a stabbing blast across my leg as he whipped past, mentions. There is a lot of fun stuff out there if worked for NASA. And when they microfilmed very easy to read, especially when constantly and giving me the screaming conviction that when one is so inclined to find and use it. the 1952 architectural blueprints of Building 640 interupted by things happening in cafes. It must I opened my eyes again I’d see half the leg fol- You know, the artwork throughout this issue and the 8-foot TPT wind tunnel, someone had the have been bizarre, getting an Xmas card from the lowing him. Fortunately, the sensation was simply of Trap Door is wonderful and makes me so sense to keep the originals. The microfilm— deceased L. Ron. I loved the sentence, “Where I the cold as my track-suit leg was sliced through. damned envious that I could just puke. The which was carefully pasted frame by frame into grew up and my mother stayed the same.” It No flesh was touched, but an inch closer and articles themselves are great, but the artwork IBM cards for computerized sorting—turned out stopped me and made me repeat it in my mind, things would have been significantly different. you’ve commissioned to accompany them is all not to have enough resolution to read the text. I and I even read it to a friend. But that half-jar of And Jay Kinney’s rants were fun—I hope they perfect and complementary. There’s a reason why remember taking one of those blueprints to be mayo line (I hope it was an exaggeration!) caused were therapeutic. Isn’t it odd how we’ve moved Stiles and Steffan consistently place high on copied—it was about 4x10 feet. I had had drafting a wave of nausea. There are probably healthier from being romantic malcontents to grumpy old FAAn and Hugo Award artist ballots—they’re in college, but was glad never to actually have to ways to gain weight. And the yellow jacket inci- men (thinking about our pensions)? Now just damn good! do it much! Especially in ink. I still have the dent—ow! I’ve never even been stung by a bee. don’t get me upon public transport in the UK, I have never worked on films before, but have instruments though. The Gregg Calkins article on Tucker brought where my local bus service decided to cut the been in bands. Jeff Schalles’ article makes me I didn’t know Gregg Calkins was still around. a tear (several!) to my eye(s), in public. I wish I’d route serving our village to just three times a day want to go read War for the Oaks now. I remem- While inventorying my book collection I ran made it to his ninetieth birthday party. (morning and evening), with the rest of the service ber when that book first came out, and how across a book with his bookplate that Phil Harrell Though I’m not at all into horror, I enjoyed the to Liverpool going from the town ten minutes bemused Emma was when everyone enthused had given me. Bruce Townley story about meeting Bruce away. All very well, but the three journeys from over it. She’s a good person, and I haven’t seen Jay Kinney’s rant is good. I was very annoyed Campbell. A lot of my friends loved that Bubba our village became more and more random as the her or Will in positively ages. If I remember by the postal rule that parcels over one pound Ho Tep movie, but I had no interest in seeing it, drivers became confused about which journeys correctly, Steve Brust told me last year that have to be presented to a clerk. {And now the cut- even though it was supposed to be more comedy were extended to us, which way round they went, they’re living in California now; they were just off is thirteen ounces. Damn those terrorists who than horror. Most writers just sign the book and and which stops they picked up on. I have become GoHs up in Dallas a few weeks ago at a figured out a 13.1-ounce letterbomb!} The post don’t try to make much contact. An exception is a mad person who writes letters to the bus com- pany. I am going to invest in some green ink. call on me. {Consider yourself called.} Grant Canfield’s article was fascinating. enjoyed Raimi’s Spiderman movies and Jackson’s Let me add my voice to the letters in praise of I enjoyed Carol Carr’s ramblings best of all, Looking to gain practical experience in a field Lord of the Rings despite a few shortcomings. paper fanzines. E-lists are fun, and an essential though. I was curious to know if she ever did read before spending time to acquire professional Bits of Carol’s Stuff always resonate. When source for storage: if I had time I would scan most the other books in the complete Charles Dickens. qualifications seems like a sound idea, though it is Hubbard was still alive he and his wife of my fanzines and thereby save space. But the I think you are missing something if you have clearly not without risks. Doozy first steps, (Cindy-Lou?) sent me a Christmas card, too, number of ezines I regularly read is limited. never read Bleak House or Our Mutual Friend. I indeed! His description of the completion of the though only that one year and I have no idea why. Somehow, using the screen is work. Paper zines never cared much for Oliver Twist or A Tale of Gateway Arch reminded me of scenes of the Presumably they found my address in a fanzine, are play, and long may they run Two Cities, but those big dense sagas I lapped up. Harbour Bridge at a similar stage of construction but I wasn’t a prolific contributor and had no pro- Ever tried Dombey & Son? What a book. If only I —not something I witnessed personally, but it file to speak of. Maybe the Scientologists were JOHN NIELSEN HALL could write something as good as that, only set in was such a milestone in Australian history that the getting desperate (this would have been before I thought Grant Canfield’s tales of fear and space or on another planet ,or something. I would, newsreel footage of the time pops up every now John Travolta and Tom Cruise had signed up). horror in building sites and drawing offices were at last, be a Skiffy. Ah well, “we are such stuff as and then, part of the vivid imagery of this Aussie Dan Steffan’s travelog reminded me again of very good. I remember an old friend of mine dreams are made of”—oh, wait a minute—that’s icon. my desire to visit the Northwestern states at some telling of how he worked on a building site once Shakespeare. {Carol sez: “I almost read Bleak My dad is a Bob and was an engineer for a time in the future—though probably in summer. and how he put a dumper down an as yet incom- House after the delicious 2005 Masterpiece while. I’ve read that during the Apollo program Many years ago my mom, dad, brother and I drove plete lift (elevator) shaft and the uproarious merri- Theater adaptation. The impulse, unfortunately, almost one in ten Americans did work related to from Perth to Darwin and back for my sister’s ment of many sons of the Emerald Isle similarly faded. I am not the woman I was at 12.”} the space effort in some way or another. At the wedding, a trip of around three days of employed who were oblivious to the fact that my time, my dad designed components of a chrono- near-constant driving each way that pretty much friend felt he had escaped death by inches. This CHRIS NELSON meter intended to go into some small bit of the cured me of any previous excitement I might have hilarity turned to grim concern at the damage to It’s good to see another Trap Door after quite spacecraft. After his team had worked on it for a felt about long distance driving. Until lately this the plant and the time it would take to pull it out of a while. I can’t complain about the long interval while, the company he worked for received a wasn’t something we had to worry about anyway, the shaft. But of the human consequences they —been there, done that—and can appreciate the German-manufactured equivalent and they were since you could circumnavigate any of the islands were entirely unconcerned. I think when your reasons for it. We’ve been on the move again, all completely blown away. It was a fraction of we lived on in less than eight hours. Now that daily routine involves working at heights and with too, but are now settling back into new work and the size, had meticulous workmanship, and we’re in Canberra, though, we’re just a few hours big pieces of machinery and so on, after a while life routines. I can only dream of retirement at functioned perfectly. He gave this up to become from the snowfields so maybe I should give Dan’s you don’t think about the risks to your person. My this stage, but congratulate you on yours and hope an aircraft mechanic, but soon became a teacher chains some thought. very first job when I left school was as a trainee that it does eventually allow you to find greater and spent most of his career in manual arts and electrician on a building site. I hated, loathed and time for fanac. computing class rooms. RICHARD DENGROVE detested it, and lasted about six weeks. I’ve stuck My online activity has ebbed and flowed but I wasn’t completely sure if Michael Dobson Great illo on the cover by Steve Stiles. But to indoor work ever since. our period in the Pacific was a definite low, due to was writing tongue-in-cheek or applauding how Bothriocyrtum Californicum? {Also known as Dan Steffan’s automotive expedition was also comparatively frequent changes of email address technology can make us all feel like great graphic “trapdoor spider”} Still, it will look good in very interesting. I would have been madder than and a failure to update my e-list “subscriptions” designers, writers, composers, etc. I enjoyed his eFanzines. Of course, there are other reasons several varieties of hornet were I to find myself each time. I’m not entirely unhappy about this. faux toy company logos but have to sort through besides that and letters of comment why you obliged by the cops to purchase snow chains at Unlike Ben Indick I can recall spending far too so much clutter on the Internet every day to feel should post there. From a librarian’s standpoint, inflated prices. Firstly, I think people should be much time writing extensive emails on occasion, any great joy at the way technology is liberating doing it is good because people can refer to your responsible for themselves, and have the choice to but looking back I’m not at all sure that it was the creativity within everyman. zine any time and any place. Even you can refer to take the risk or not. Second , though this wouldn’t always time well spent. Generally, though, That said, I must confess I have used the your zine if some question arises. have applied to Dan since he was driving a rented loccing is not something I’ve ever been terribly movie function on my digital camera to make a Sometimes, however, not being up-to-date is car, I drive a four-wheel drive, electronic traction good at. Catching up with the local scene here in few amateurish clips with my girls and it is fun for no vice. Even though Grant Canfield isn’t up on controlled Subaru wagon, and there is no snow Oz upon our return I discovered that Eric Lindsay them to see the result. I don’t think Spielberg will all the modern drafting techniques, he is still an covered road encountered—in the UK at least— seems to have ceased pubbing Gegenschein and I start trembling any time soon. I’ve always architect much in demand because of an old vir- that me and it could not have gotten through. confess to feeling guilty about my lack of LoCs to wondered just how exciting real production work tue: he listens. In my library, I have found that Third, if Dan had been on a back road going over him. Among others! would be and Jeff Schalles’ piece gives a pretty listening is a good part of reference work. Some- the state line, would the cops be hanging around The update on Harry Warner’s fanzine vivid idea of the attractions as well as the grimy times, the patron will answer their own question directing folks to the side of the road? I’d bet collection was most welcome. Earlier news had reality. You’d clearly have to love the work to and not realize it. Certainly, to be sure of under- against it. It seems that if you drive a car, you been truly appalling—if that could happen to one persist with it. Interesting, though, how many standing the question, you have to listen. In other leave that free country you thought you were a of the best known and widely respected of fans, successful film-makers have started out making walks of life, listening can make you powerful citizen of and can be pushed around by the merest what hope for the rest of us? So I share your low budget movies like, I guess, the War for the beyond the dreams of megalomania. While Joe whim of officialdom. Don’t worry. Rich Coad mixed response to the latest developments and Oaks. Bruce Townley mentions Sam Raimi’s Evil Stalin was one of the bloodiest dictators of the thinks I’m only a watered down European version look forward to further details. Organizing a Dead films and others. Peter Jackson springs to 20th century, and certainly no role model other- of a Libertarian. But if you want another article collection like Harry’s in some library would be mind, too, with his early schlock films in New wise, he got where he was because he listened. like Jay Kinney’s, but not actually by Jay Kinney, my dream job. Zealand. Not my cup of tea, really, though I’ve That shows how powerful a tool listening can be. Other of our abilities are more dubious. That next day. Now patrons who happen to be my of course, we had Rapidograph pens and things after the shooting stopped, which made that makes Michael Dobson’s “Every Man a Rem- bosses demand news clips. If my job stopped were much easier. And, of course, I learned to decision a no-brainer. brandt” my favorite article in this issue. Like a lot changing, I would be bored. You could say I am draw and letter on mimeograph stencils even Besides, staying in California meant I could of people, he feels like a Rembrandt with a paint an old fart who is used to adapting to new before that. continue pubbing my ish and impressing Ted by numbers kit. While I have not felt the same challenges at work. On the other hand, like with I was tickled by the egoboo in Ted White’s White, both worthy goals. Ted White, in turn, way about paint by numbers, I have felt it about Dan, could you say I’m an old fart at all? column—very nice of him, but he got a little impressed the hell out of me by actually turning other things. However, Michael knows all too confused about my age. I graduated from high pro and even becoming an editor, both of them well that no one is going to mistake him for TERRY JEEVES school and turned eighteen, true enough, but I had dreams which I had abandoned as I resumed my Rembrandt. Also, like a lot of people, he feels like I really enjoyed Trap Door as it is not only the been in college at the University of Utah and was college life in the fields of mundane. Mick Jagger when he mixes music with Apple’s size I like, but also it comes as hard copy which I in my second year there by the time the latter And, in due course, encountered sex for real Garage Band. Ditto, he knows too well know no can sit in an easy chair to read. None of this on- happened. I turned eighteen that November, late and sapped my fannish energies in the process, one is going to mistake him for Mick Jagger. screen stuff which Rich Coad makes an excellent in the fall quarter, and left for the Marine Corps retaining only enough for participation in a Also, Michael knows another thing: in the tension case against in the lettercol. The illos are great— the following May, barely six months later, in the quarterly apa that still came around too often, between imagination and reality, there is humor. with full marks going to Dan Steffan for that middle of the spring quarter. sometimes. I did very much enjoy my stint as I am sure he feels like Benton and Barton when he superlative heading to Grant Canfield’s highly I dropped out to keep from flunking out, since FAPA OE, however, the last of the Good Old uses Logo Creator. However, he makes sure all entertaining piece. I have sympathy for Grant’s I had discovered sex by that time, although not the Days. Some time I’ll have to tell you about them. the advertisements parody real advertisements. fear of heights—I even get giddy in a front actual practice thereof. I was studying for that test {Any time, Meyer. How about for next issue?} Love the logo for Highly Inappropriate Toys, with balcony seat in a theater. I also liked Steve Stiles’ harder than I was for any of my schoolwork, the kid whom the toys have apparently driven cover illo. however, and it showed. PAMELA BOAL bonkers. I take issue with the condemnation of painting Alas, joining the Marine Corps put a tempo- Issue 24 of Trap Door demonstrates that fans While Michael Dobson understands the by numbers Michael Dobson mentions. If it gives rary halt to both quests. By the time my Marine are life just writ more interestingly, perhaps with attraction of paint by numbers, Carol Carr does someone pleasure, why not use it? After all, Corps enlistment was up three years later, the a slightly skewed viewpoint. Virtually every not understand the true essence of track shelving. model making is on a par with paint-by-numbers Korean War was over and the Marine Corps had article has a counterpoint or echo in my own life It is less soul-less than she thinks. In 1982, at when the modeler makes something from an a policy which allowed me to get out a couple of —starting with Grant Canfield, who has every work, I was given a room with track shelving and instruction sheet instead of scratch building, I months early in order to re-take the spring quarter right to feel pleased that his abilities are told that that was going to be my library. I haven’t enjoyed the article, though. I failed to complete by enlisting. Very enlight- appreciated and financially rewarded. My regretted it. Kids scream with joy when I roll it Jeff Schalles’ piece on the life of a “roadie” ened of them, I thought, and still think, but they brother-in-law was a highly regarded structural back and forth. Adults are fascinated by it too but was also entertaining and show how varied life were also ready to re-shrink the size of the engineer but was just thrown on the redundancy less demonstrative. Once, a person from the very can be. peacetime Marine Corps again, like they always scrapheap when there was a recession and a cult of pinnacle of government, the Congressional Bud- Dan Steffan’s travelogue was really varied, did back in those days when we thought every war regarding youth to be of greater value than get Office, came into my library. He couldn’t especially so for me because I had visited areas would be the last one. experience. I wish Grant had been the architect keep his eyes off my track shelving. In short, it is close to the travel route in two Stateside trips— By the time Vietnam came along I was even who lived in this house before us. Throughout the classier than Carol thinks. one in 1980 the other in 1982—but we never older than Ted White’s imagining, also married, house there was evidence that he was a do-it- While I and Carol have firm views on the needed skid chains, although we did have the and really had little interest in preserving yourself fanatic who couldn’t. The plans for an esthetics of libraries, Dan Steffan would not be opposite experience of driving through Death democracy in Southeast Asia even though I was extension that came with the house deeds may interested in it. He is a bohemian used to more Valley when the air conditioning broke down. opposed to the world-wide spread of Com- have looked elegant and within the planning laws. excitement in his life. His trip to Los Angeles and munism. The whole thing just seemed too far off but on examination it was obvious that they were back to Oregon sounds like it gave him a big jolt. GREGG CALKINS for me to contemplate, plus since I had already totally impractical for anyone living in the We could say he is an old fart who likes excite- Regarding Grant Canfield and the St. Louis spent three years working industriously to avoid resultant structure. ment in his life. However, the fact he wants arch, I was amused about all the construction being sent to Korea the habit had become Now that two of our grandsons are in their excitement in his life probably means he’s not an labor around the area that stopped to watch while well-ingrained. twenties, I decided that it was time to produce old fart at all. {And, I suspect, he also likes the keystone was set. That had to be a very Oh, I had some desire to go to Japan, I admit, something that could be passed down to the great- libraries.} expensive period with all of that high-priced labor because I had heard from returning guys my own grandchildren. I decided on a book containing By the same token, though sixty-two, I am not turned into spectators for the duration. I wonder age that they had live-in housemaids with all the nursery rhymes collected in the oral tradition— an old fart. My job has changed once every couple how much extra that actually cost? sex that entails, plus more than I even knew about that is, that someone in the family had to be able to of years from 1982 on. It depends on what people I’ve done quite a lot of drafting, myself, and in those sheltered times (you could have more quote the rhyme in full. Eventually we came up ask of my library. Originally, I had to figure out having learned earlier than he did I struggled than one housemaid at the same time, for with one hundred rhymes. I also wanted to illu- how to locate government offices. Then patrons through plates and plates of lettering with an old instance), but the Marine Corps had a stuffy strate the rhymes with original modern (rather started asking me about legal citations. Next, they nib pen you actually dipped into an inkwell. policy about it. I could go to Japan occasionally than the usual Victorian) pictures. As I have wanted articles on nutrition and medicine— Horrible tool! For the first eleven years after I on R&R, sure, but my primary duty station would trouble grasping a pencil or brush and certainly yesterday. With a little help from the National graduated, I essentially drafted maps and geologic be in a tent in muddy Korea—if I still wanted to can’t control a mouse well enough to draw on Library of Medicine, I can get quite a number the cross-sections. I miss that, actually. By that time, go. I’d heard plenty of stories about Korea, even computer, this was a somewhat daunting task. Michael Dobson is right—while my Serif Draw seeing signs that read “Caution Road Slippery sophisticated and user friendly, more and more farmer’s field next to the highway, you’d zip by it Plus program did not turn me into a Rembrandt, it With Grape Juice.” When harvest time came and people will be able to compose rock operas, direct at 70 mph before heads could even turn. did enable me to be a reasonably competent grapes were transported to the winery in rickety animated fantasy epics, publish the Great Gay Compare the routine con trip with a leisurely illustrator. With clip art that could be dismantled old lorries, we rapidly became believers. Unfor- American novel, paint, or produce a science drive of thousands of miles with no clear time- into component parts and recombined with a tunately there are no signs that warn of an even fiction film masterpiece in their spare time. One table. You take scenic back routes, stopping at selection of quick shapes, a range of colors and greater danger. After the grapes are pressed the in a million may even be good. While I don’t will in atmospheric small towns, eat when hungry shading effects, the results were quite satisfying. skins are transported to an animal feed factory. really believe the bad will drive out the good, wherever the vibes are attractive, stop to ogle the My shaky hand was possibly an advantage when, We were traveling behind a lorry transporting there’s every likelihood it will make distin- sunset or meandering river or purple mountains for example, applying graining to a plank of skins along a road with no opportunity to overtake guishing the good from the bad very hard for most majesty if you want, and maybe discover the Buy wood, the fact that lines did not go quite where I said lorry. In any event we were in no real hurry, people. Not that the monopoly of media by pro- of Your Life in a small bookstore you would intended resulted in a more natural look. having allowed plenty of time for the Medi- fessional editors has been any guarantee of otherwise never known existed. And on the way, Carol Carr’s “Stuff” is as ever a pleasure to terranean pace of life. The fumes coming from quality. Look at how many people paid good no dishes to wash, no beds to make, no boss, no read. My father also had the Complete Works of the lorry were not that unpleasant, telling us of money to watch “Dukes of Hazzard” in the telephone, and in those days no spam. That’s the Charles Dickens along with a selection of other wines to come that may be tasted at festival time. theater, or have made the “Left Behind” series life! classics such as the Bronte novels. He went off to However, I was developing a headache and was bestsellers. But my experience of cyberspace Give me a goodly lottery win—nothing major, WW2 for six years and left instructions with my about to suggest that we might ease back when I suggests strongly that the average person cannot perhaps three or four million—and I think one of mother that the books were to be locked away noticed Derek’s head seemed to be nodding on distinguish between shoe polish and pre-recycled, my first purchases would be a good traveling car. until both my sister and I were old enough to and off (well, not exactly—just sort of drooping organic solids. How will they tell real creativity Then pick a con, find the least direct way to drive appreciate and take care of them. As my sister is forward and then jerking upright) I started to ask apart from cleverly replicated digital “creativity”? to it, and start early. seven years my junior, that would encompass him if he was okay when he swerved into an Every Rembrandt a preprogrammed template? several years. Books were hard to come by in the almost lay-by (there weren’t any real ones, just Back in the ‘70s, Victoria Vayne and I used to JOHN BAXTER war years so like Carol I haunted the library. slightly wider areas) and turned off the car engine. do the con thing, and to get to them often drove Thanks for Trap Door 24. Knowing your Betimes father came back the library had enabled He had realized, most likely just in time, that the distances that would give an environmentalist a leisurely schedule, I’m confident this LoC will not me to read most of the books in his collection and fumes from the lorry in front were actually stroke. We drove from Toronto to Baltimore, arrive too late for your deadline. The best one can I lost interest in the rest. Mother died and father making him intoxicated. New York, Washington, Cincinatti, Detroit, and hope is still to be alive when the next issue arrives. remarried and went to live in a granny flat Our younger son is a first electrician, but like Boston as a more or less routine matter. Less Which rather addresses the overall tone of the attached to the house where his new wife’s son Jeff Schalles he has done his share of being the easily justified to the Green Generation were our issue, which is Lament for Lost Time, the Dear lived. We were overseas during that phase of dogsbody there to lug heavy equipment about. car trips to Miami, Kansas City, and Denver. On Dead Days Beyond Recall, the Burden of the father’s life so never got to meet our step-relatives Most of his work nowadays is site manager for the way to MidAmericon we circumnavigated Years, etc. As Andy Hooper rightly says, until his funeral. We were asked if we would like outdoor festivals. That means planning the layout Lake Superior, and drove through the Dakota “elegiac”. I can’t remember a fanzine quite so to take away some of my father’s old clothes as a of the site and supervising the get in and out of Badlands before turning east to KC. The Denver saturated with the sense of what should, I suppose, memory of him. I told my step-brother that I everything from stage, to food franchise stalls, trip was especially remarkable since we made via be called Old Fart Fandom. Or, more accurately, would rather have my father’s books. There was toilets and parking signs. New health and safety Duluth, Lethbridge Alberta, the Grand Tetons in Last Fandom? Since one does have the sense that a look of surprised disdain on his face, and at that laws do not allow electricians to climb up ladders western Wyoming, and Yellowstone Park. But, fanzines like Trap Door, on paper, and transmit- point I realized that I had not seen a single item of to fix lighting structures. Instead they have to go oh! they were adventures! ted by the antiquated medium of the post, have reading matter in the house. He informed us that aloft in cherry pickers. Of course the stage is Long ago I grew mortally tired of lesser car largely had their day. To my great regret, by the he had been going to throw them out but thought invariably at a very different height to the bed of trips. You know the sort. Hop in the car around way. they might still be in the garden shed or the attic. the lorry transporting the cherry picker to the site. midnight and drive all through the dark hours, Even though I was instrumental in getting Bill Eventually, when I promised to pay for the Interesting logistics, danger to one electrician up sticking to throughways and interstates the whole Warren’s The Evil Dead Companion published package and shipping, step-brother agreed to find a ladder or several dogsboddies trying to get a way, and pulling up to the con’s suburban hotel (by finding him an agent in the UK), Bruce and send the books to me. Eventually most of the cherry picker from lorry to stage. As in all busi- next morning in time to catch a few hours Campbell (pace Bruce Townley) was an unknown books did arrive here. Have I reread them all? ness the customer is always right, so when the exhausted sleep. That’s not a car trip. It’s a name to me until Mike Moorcock gave me a Well, no, but they do often provide a source of stately homeowner insisted his sheep need not be grueling endurance test you might as well have bootleg DVD of Bubba-Hotep, in which Camp- reference. moved from the grounds for a combined orches- spent in a darkened room with a video game. bell appears as Elvis Presley—who, having fallen In a sense everyone’s travel experience is tral, laser light and fireworks event, he was There’s nowhere to stop but identical McDonald’s into a coma, wakes decades later in some redneck unique to the individual. Husband Derek and I, allowed to have his way. There was considerable and Wendy’s. There’s nothing to see on the road excuse for a hospital to find that a double has been along with our children, may have experienced consternation when the spent rocket cases began but strings of red taillights and oncoming white buried in his place and that he is regarded as long some aspects of Dan Steffan’s travels but the to land amongst the baa lambs. headlights, with the occasional yellow or blue dead, and on this account universally mourned. weird ones are as unique to Dan and Lynn as ours warnings floating by out of the darkness. As often Since there was not enough meat—or at least are to us. When we first arrived in Cyprus and TARAL WAYNE as not the driver is in a hurry to cut down the blood—in this plot for a Campbell movie, some traveled around the mountain roads, we were “Every Man a Rembrandt”: As the tools and length of the trip anyway. Even if a neon-lit sort of scuttling insectile mutant monster is somewhat bemused and even disbelieving on aids available to home computers grow more flying saucer were to land in plain sight in a haunting the hospital, as is a doddering Ossie Davis (in his last role). I have since passed the hoped, the shops of the north woods had not been time I had stood in line for an autograph. For nothing to do with post-9/11 security, but actually DVD on to Anne Billson, author of Suckers, Stiff scoured as completely as those of San Francisco awhile, I couldn’t remember ever having stood in goes back a decade to the heyday of Ted Lips and books on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and and Los Angeles. But who could know how com- line for an autograph. Then I remembered a single Kaczynski, better known as the Unabomber. His John Carpenter’s The Thing, who is a good deal prehensively the internet had laid waste to the exception. There was a party in San Francisco for mail bombs were over one pound, stamped, and more enthusiastic than I was. second-hand book market? Of the scores of shops E. Hoffman Price in connection with the appear- he dropped them in street mailboxes. The idea Earlier this year, I served on the jury at the listed in the most recent booksellers’ guide, all but ance of a collection of his short stories. I bought a behind forcing people to bring parcels to a counter Trieste Scienceplusfiction Festival, courtesy of a handful had closed. In some cases, even the copy at the party and stood in line to get it auto- is to ensure that they will be photographed by Harry Harrison, who was the chairman. where building was gone. We found ourselves staring at graphed. Autographs just aren’t my thing. Over security cameras. The zero-cent meter strip is to films like Bubba-Hotep were the norm. building sites or parking lots. The stores that the years, I’ve known some writers quite well, prove to the postal sorting plant that the parcel Moorcock, who now divides his time between survived had often done so by relaunching some in passing, and some by sight. Having their was in fact handed over the counter. Metered mail Austin, Texas, an apartment in Paris and a condo themselves as boutiques. They featured wall-to- signature in a book doesn’t change any of that in from businesses does not have to comply with this in Majorca, is surely a candidate for the Fandom wall carpet, a coffee machine, scented candles, the slightest. Autographs might add to the value of for the obvious reason that the meter strip can be of the Failing, physically if not financially, and piped music. A few first editions in glossy a book, but I’ve always collected for my own traced. though less so since his foot healed up and he no wrappers, optimistically overpriced, stood in amusement rather than resale value. “What are the chances of any of these identi- longer had to travel around in a wheelchair with locked glass cabinets. More like the waiting Like Jay Kinney, we all have our rants. I don’t fiers surviving the blast?” asks Kinney. You’d be one leg permanently raised to the horizontal. On rooms at a spa or clinic than bookshops. know whether it is just me, but we seem to have surprised at how good forensic technicians are at a couple of occasions, we rolled him up the hill to One of my most abiding memories is of the more of them as we get older. However, I’ve reconstructing things. Kaczynski’s use of stamps Montparnasse for lunch, and maneuvered him sprawling mall in upstate Washington. At mid- found one way to cut down on the number of rants was known right down to his favored denomina- through the double doors of La Coupole, an evo- afternoon, we had the whole place almost to I have. Ignore the news as much as possible. Your tions, but because he mailed them from street lution which recalled Chaplin’s The Rink, where ourselves. To a clangorous soundtrack of Christ- digestion will thank you for it. During my boxes far outside his home territory the postmarks Eric Campbell, the large, irascible man with the mas music, we wandered through halls decked lifetime, I have gone to extremes about the news. were not helpful. Thus the insistence on meter beard, is a gout sufferer—cue of course for with boughs of plastic holly, past stores which, There were times when I was reading three or four strips. Charlie to run his foot into the wall, jam it in the though ankle-deep in ersatz Christmas cheer, had newspapers a day. There were other times when I These precautions are not, as Kinney writes, revolving door, etc. These days Mike makes do barely a customer. At the deserted stand where figured if something was bad enough I’d hear “idiotic security precautions,” but are the result of with a cane, which, with his natty suits and Santa waited to be photographed with your kids, about it, and if it wasn’t, I didn’t have to worry Kaczynski’s 18-year parcel bomb campaign that wide-brimmed felt hats, makes him look like he and his midget helper took a load off their feet about it. At the moment, I’m in the latter mode of killed three people and mutilated 23 more. (Most Barry Humphries’ lecherous older brother. by sharing the white plastic throne. operation. people who survive a mail bomb are right-handed, Dan Steffan’s driving. I drove some of that Everything shouted excess, from boxes of While I don’t think it is worth a rant, I have and will lose their left hand because that’s the route a couple of years ago on a book-hunting chocolates the size of suitcases to the local branch noticed the strange things that pass for post office hand that was holding it when the bomb went off.) expedition into the Pacific Northwest with the of Victoria’s Secret which, clearly over- security these days. I mail the FAPA mailings at a I have published a history of mail bombs in Postal legendary book hunter Martin Stone. As a gesture estimating the market for bustiers and suspender regional post office. {Milt has been FAPA’s History Journal. The earliest known was in 1829, of flamboyance, we’d emailed ahead to Seattle to belts among lumberjacks and trailer trash, had official editor for over four years, gathering and when a Spanish general lost his left hand opening rent a golden convertible—which, arriving at leased a one-time carpet store, spacious enough to sending out the quarterly mailings. Anyone a package from a Basque terrorist. SeaTac at 1a.m. in a gelid December rainstorm, garage a semi-trailer. The enormous windows reading this who’s interested in participating in did seem, on reflection, a little rash. The woman were filled with billboard-sized photo enlarge- what’s become a very retro form of fanac, please MARK PLUMMER at the car rental counter agreed. “You’ll freeze!” ments of languorous models, massive as whales, contact me for details.} If it wasn’t for the new- I bashed out a brief acknowledgment to Trap she said, and in short order persuaded us to take a reclining in net bras roomy enough to hammock a fangled security regulations, I’d go in the front Door 24 on 31 January and in reply you said, goose-shit-green Jeep 4 x 4. And thank God. As cow. Only Edward Hopper could have done it door and dump the mailings in the hopper. As it is, amongst other things: “And once you get a we zipped up the icy slopes of the Sierras, past justice. I go around to the back of the building, grab one of chance to read it and remove some of your sur- that view of Lake Shasta Dan mentioned, we Carol and lobsters. You would love Charente, their laundry hamper style carts, load the FAPA rounding distractions, I hope for a *real* passed dozens of stalled cars struggling with Carol, down on the Atlantic coast, where we have mailings into that, and trundle right on in to the LoC*….” chains, and even a few heavy trucks sidelined by our summer place. It’s prime country for lobsters, building. In the last four years, nobody has looked As I said at the time, I was using a day of the cold. From our lofty elevation, we looked which are called, because of their color, Cardinals at anything I was bringing into the building. In industrial action to tackle a bit of my own editorial down on these poor unprepared mortals. Martin, of the Sea. There is even a restaurant of that name fact, no postal employee has been within twenty work, so I had actually done no more than open in flagrant defiance of the ‘No Smoking” decal, in Royan, where you can eat lobster on a cliff feet of me. If I had any desire to blow them up, I the envelope, marvel briefly at its contents, and ashed his unfiltered Gaulois, I took a slug of my overlooking the ocean. No oyster crackers, how- would have done it years past. then fire off a quick mail-of-thanks before adding Noisette Latte, conveniently situated in the extra ever. Anyone who demanded anything so un- TD to the pile of fanzines on the sofa bed next to large beverage wells by the gear shift, and turned French would probably be thrown off the cliff. DALE SPEIRS my desk. Where it sat, temporarily overtaken by up “All Things Considered” on the radio. Kings of Jay Kinney was ranting because the USPS the Corflu haul, until last night. the Road, man! MILT STEVENS insists that parcels over one pound be handed over The point of mentioning this is, of course, that That excursion with Martin began as a lark, Bruce Townley’s article in Trap Door No. 24 the counter, and if pre-stamped must include a I wrote my brief email of acknowledgment with- with the possibility of a little profit if, as we started me wondering about when was the last zero-cent meter strip put on it by a clerk. This has out having read your comments in TD about people who *only* send brief emails of acknow- all the articles are generally interesting I don’t long and rambling tale from Pete Weston and Rog posting the previous issue there is a good one. In ledgment, and the fact that I’m writing in more have a great deal to say about them. Stand-out Peyton at the end of which it became apparent that fact, I went there to get a copy of Isabel’s chili detail now is actually because I intended to do so piece for me is probably Carol’s column, in which in the frequent retelling they’d edited out one recipe. even before I saw your more general request that respect I’d note that while TD is always very good particular individual who was now in the room I’m surprised you got no response to two recipients do so. at marrying artwork to words, this is a particularly and only just learning the truth about what previous postings; I got a couple of LoCs on my In a way, I’m kinda surprised that we don’t apt pairing in a way I can’t immediately define. *really* happened over forty years ago. much less deserving FAPAzine from eFanzines. ourselves seem to receive all that many {Perhaps it’s the familiarity of LeeH’s heading, Oh, and just a small thing about whether or not They were from fans, however, so maybe it’s just emails-of-acknowledgment, given that it’s so easy which has been used here many times and which to post PDFs to efanzines as supplementary to a that you’ve sent paper copies to anyone who to do. But then again, I so rarely send such I “borrowed” from the final issue of Innuendo.} paper distribution. As I’m sure you know, I’m a might comment. {There are dozens if not hun- messages myself that it shouldn’t really be Otherwise, there are all sorts of little snippets like paper-every-time kinda person, but it is incredibly dreds of fans who don't receive Trap Door, but surprising. As you say, we all lead busy lives, and Dan’s description of having chains on the wheels useful to have the PDF sitting there as a reference perhaps they also don't check out efanzines, I find it a little alarming that at the age of 43 I’m of his car, one of those little Americanisms I’ve copy. If I’m sitting in front of the PC and I want to either, or if they do they take the free ride.} so actively looking forward to retirement. often heard referenced but never entirely under- look something up—as often happens—it’s so Dobson is amusing on creative software; I like But now you’re echoing the sentiment so often stood. The UK has snow, yes, but it’s usually much easier to simply open a window and sum- it. I have a mental contradiction here. I think arti- voiced elsewhere, that the end of paid employ- pretty minimalist stuff and we deal with it by mon up the data. I can even copy-and-paste if I ficial intelligence will rival humans soon if civili- ment somehow results in less free time. I’m allowing our transport infrastructure to collapse want to quote from it. The alternative involves, zation doesn’t collapse first, and I think creativity clinging on to the hope that you—and indeed entirely at the first flake which was why it was so well, a whole flight of stairs and the fanzine is a human trait which machines won’t be as good everybody else—is exaggerating this point, traumatic having a major (by British standards) cupboard. at but can support by doing things like spell- although I can imagine you sighing that yes, you snow fall early on the morning we were flying out checking. thought that way too until you knew the ghastly to Corflu. In fact, we had a reasonably trouble- FRED SMITH How far can it go? Will machines supplant truth. {Yes, alas! When the entire day, more or free journey, and on the final leg—the cab ride Ted White is talking my language when he architects like Canfield, building structures incre- less, can be categorized as “free time,” the need from Austin airport to the Doubletree—heard reminisces about the ‘50s era of fandom. And dibly useful and beautiful? Will machines find to focus and prioritize becomes more of an radio reports of seven *feet* of snow in upstate Dan Steffan—well, he’s right in there with his new ways to kill humans in war? Will machines imperative than pre-retirement.} New York which made the one or two inches that travelogue. His artwork and all your other artists eventually reduce us to mindless TV watchers, I’ve been particularly thinking about this sort had pretty much shut down whole tracts of the UK are great. I mean great! while they do the important things like loccing of thing as Claire and I decided to take the whole seem pretty feeble. Jay Kinney also struck a responsive note in Trap Door and playing Freecell? Yeah, automate post-Corflu week off work, partly to give our- I should also say that it’s nice to see some me, since I too am a dedicated curmudgeon. Most fanzine production, loccing, conversation on selves some time to adjust to the intercontinental words from Dan, a fine artist—his FAAn Award of what he ranted about I would agree with but online groups, con going and First Thursday. time differences—with every trip I find I get less richly deserved—but a fine writer, too. The same could add a few of my own, particularly with But what would we do if we didn’t have good at doing this—but also so we had some goes for Jay Kinney (well, apart from the award regard to the state of popular music. Many people something to procrastinate? space to do nothing much, or rather to do all the bit), and I’ll resist the temptation to pile in with would no doubt jump on me and say it’s just my Interesting, footnotes referring to other things that we don’t usually do through lack of my own pet rants about golf umbrellas and the advanced age, but I disagree and maintain that it’s fanzines. References assume that the referenced time…such as reading, and writing to and about telephone dialing code for London. an objective fact popular music has declined item is available. For you with your extensive, fanzines. A good letter-column of course—although I steadily over the last fifty-odd years. Don’t start filed and cross-referenced collection, this is easy. I had this startling revelation a few months worry that phrasing it that way makes it seem me off! For me, with a limited collection packed away in back. Given that the earliest I get home from work somehow *effortless*, which I’m sure isn’t the Saddened to read Ron Bennett’s letter after the boxes or lost, it’s impossible. Maybe, when is about 4:30 (I start early), and it’s more likely to case. I like Andy Hooper’s point about the sen- news of his death and to think that I never got a everything is available electronically, we’ll be be 5:00 or even 6:00, and given that I don’t keep sation of “perpetual neohood.” Andy and I are of chance to apologize for accusing him of not being able to look at things from the Riverside library or late hours during the week because of the early an age, I think, although I can only claim slightly a science fiction fan. In fact, I was only winding another public fanzine collection. start, I only have six-eight “useful” hours after more than twenty years in fandom, but I him up a little because of his comics dealing. Or more probably not, since scanning things work—which means that I spend somewhere in constantly feel that *everybody* has been here Apart from that I was sorry to miss seeing him at for electronic access is too labor-intensive. {I'm the order of 15% of my Monday-Friday free time longer than me, and in my time I’ve still only Interaction (not surprising, considering the crowd hoping that James Halperin will follow through watching Channel 4 News. So really it’s not at all assembled a fraction of the pieces that make up there), a kind of rerun of missing Ethel Lindsay at with his idea of scanning Warner's entire surprising that I don’t get anywhere near as much the fannish jigsaw. A couple of years ago Claire the 1995 Worldcon and her death shortly collection and making it available electronically. done as I’d wish. You know, I’m convinced hours and I attended Peter Weston’s “reunion” for thereafter. He's got the money to actually do it, while we were longer ten years ago. {From my lofty attendees of the 1964 Eastercon—in case it’s not mere mortals can only do it piecemeal.} position of being over twenty years older than obvious, we were there, I think, in the guise of JIM CAUGHRAN Carol is a master of the short shtick. I enjoyed you, it’s my impression—and, of course, not just delegates from the future—and I was fascinated I was a little harsh in my comment on posting the times I spent with her forty or so years ago, mine—that while hours are the same length and charmed by the way that stories were still Trap Door to eFanzines. The point was simply and would like to see her again, all these years they’ve somehow speeded up in their passing.} emerging from that era, bits of “common know- that the rules have changed. It no longer costs later. Bring her to a Corflu I go to? (I probably Anyway, I’m rambling away from the ledge” which were not so common that everybody anything to circulate another copy of a fanzine, so won’t be at Las Vegas next year.) contents of TD although I have to say that whilst there had heard them before. My favorite was a long as it’s done electronically. Your idea of I hadn’t realized how good a writer Dan Steffan is. Most of what I see of his work are good nicer to a higher percentage of ‘em, as a kind of Door had a higher percentage.), STEVE GREEN it being so easy to reply to an online fanzine that illustrations; I don’t remember seeing other prose “thanks for the future memories.” {And thanks for (“Just thought I’d mention I was reading TD 24 we’ll get around to it RealSoonNow. For all that from him. Driving through snow: We had two this memory of postcards past. As you know, I’ve and fully intend to get a loc over to you RSN,” but the fanzines on efanzines.com are available to a patches of snow on the way to Corflu. In sent you this fanzine from the very beginning in didn’t), JOHN HERTZ, BEN INDICK (“ My whole wide world of new fans, I note that the Michigan, it was whiteout, but short-lived, and order that you should occasionally get to wrestle own long trips are finished. My wife cannot take letter columns have the same old names.” That’s everyone slowed down and got through safely. In with your innate fannishness. Your yanking back the lengthy air trips and even locally—from NJ to more or less true, but the ease of on-line Missouri, it wasn’t as bad, but people didn’t at this particular chain is always welcome.} DC—is too much, because I get too pooped for communication compared to paper mail has know how to drive on snow, and there were cars 5½-hour drives. Go Dan, go, while you can. It is brought back some fans who’d previously all over the fences, and a jackknifed semi and… WE ALSO HEARD FROM: great and I envy you.”), JERRY KAUFMAN disappeared—such as Eric Mayer and John I was more scared in the easier conditions in JAMES BACON, JOHN D. BERRY (“I like (“You know, the biggest comment hook in it was Purcell.), GUY MILLER, LLOYD PENNEY Missouri than in Michigan. Janet freaked out in Mog Decarnin’s form of sympathetic magic: your plea for meatier eLoCs. In my case this (“Retirement sounds good, and better all the time; the snow in Colorado on the way back, and we ‘Now that I've let all my magazine subs lapse in would require a meatier brain”), JOE but for me, I’d need a job to retire from.”), BOB spent the night in a motel about thirty miles from hopes of moving…’ I picture her canceling her KENNEDY (“Thanks for soldering on with the SILVERBERG (“One thing that did strike me my sister’s, after driving through the worst of it. subscriptions and then waiting hopefully until magazine. You and Trap Door seem to be the one was a letter referring to my contribution last issue I haven’t seen tire chains since I moved from enough juice has built up in the infundibular thread connecting me to fandom anymore. I as ‘unforgettable.’ As it happened, the author Nebraska to California in 1958. Tire chains in matrix, whereupon it suddenly propels her, relished Gregg Calkins’ tribute to Bob Tucker, a himself had forgotten it. (But a little cogitation Nebraska were a usual thing in winter, since the willy-nilly, into a new abode.”), WILLIAM writer of fan stuff whose delectable tongue-in- reminded me that it was my Grand Master piece, streets were neither plowed or salted—they would BREIDING (“Getting Grant and Jay into the cheek prose in his Le Zombie set a standard that us as later letters confirmed.)”), JON SWARTZ, put cinders on the hills, if you were lucky. And same issue was amazing enough, but to also have younger fry strove to live up to.”), JOSEPH BRUCE TOWNLEY, JAMES WELCH and people learned to drive on snow with and without a major new Brute Tornley (as Bruce Townley MAJOR (“I agree with you about the problem of ALEXANDER YUDENITSCH. chains, to adjust speed to the conditions and leave was briefly known in the ‘70s) piece constitutes more room. classic status for the issue.”), KEN FAIG (“There is a wealth of life experience behind the contri- JESSICA SALMONSON butions in this issue. I particularly enjoyed Grant As I was reading through Trap Door I had that Canfield’s ‘Thrilling Architect Stories’ and Dan usual attack of nostalgia but tried to push it away Steffan’s ‘Long Beach Bounce.’ Canfield is right as I’m fairly certain I’m doing stuff nowadays that the man or woman who is successful in most even more interesting than in fannish youth and professions is the one who can communicate am not generally nostalgically oriented. effectively with clients and potential clients. But then it struck me that you might be Every profession (or line of work) has a story to interested in hearing about a postcard I’ve had tell, and it is usually the storytellers who lead the propped up over my computer for the last couple profession. I always hit the road with reluctance, of years. It’s not quite an authentic “poctsarcd” so I could identified with Steffan’s travails.”), because those were three-penny cards. This one’s BRAD FOSTER (“I think having to move and older. It’s a penny postcard postmarked July 25, rearrange an entire household is a good reason for 1950, and addressed to a pal now long gone, a little delay in pubbing your ish, though. And Harold Taves. The message side is a drawing by these days, I'm not going to complain to anyone the now equally missing William Rotsler, just two about how long it takes them to get out a paper bullet-shaped guys, one telling the other “Cross- zine.”), MARLIN FRENZEL (“Enjoyed espe- patch!” I know it’s nothing of any consequence at cially the articles by Dan Steffan and good old all but there it is over the computer where I have Ted White. I can’t wait to see what he has to say '07 '06 ‘05 ‘04 ‘03 ‘02 ‘01 ‘00 '99 '98 '97 '96 '95 '94 '93 '92 '91 '90 '89 '88 '87 very, very few things attached—the only other about me when I finally pass over.”), E. B. Australia 10 6 7 6 17 24 17 12 9 12 9 11 12 13 16 18 16 16 12 15 32 things being a picture of a fennec which greatly FROHVET (“Aside from Carol’s bits and pieces Canada 13 17 13 24 14 15 18 18 19 16 19 14 16 14 12 17 1 2 2 1 4 resembles Daigoro, my twinky little dog, and and a smattering of LoCs and WAHFs, the source U. K. 36 37 39 29 41 52 39 61 65 64 58 47 52 60 51 50 44 30 61 51 33 U. S. 93 113 154 106 91 113 84 105 69 91 109 108 143 109 91 104 85 66 55 67 58 photos of my sweetie Rhonda. Just stuff that of TD’s content appears to be 90+% male. Any Others 010020011000022215043 makes me feel things are okay with the world no deliberation there, or did it just happen that way? Totals: 152 174 213 165 165 204 158 197 163 183 195 180 223 198 172 191 147 119 130 138 130 matter how it otherwise appears. It’s hard to think of an American fanzine with a Fans used to make me feel cranky about 90% large female input.” This came up in discussion The percentage of electronic fanzines continues to increase. Of the ones I download and print, Arnie Katz and Earl Kemp are the reason. However, many more are being published that I don't download and print (for of the time because finding corners where there somewhere else recently, and it was determined instance, Chris Garcia did 45 issues in 2007)—if I did, the above recent totals would be much higher. And, were sober, nonsmoking, intelligent ones was that in the past more women were actively writing some of the fanzines I receive in hard copy are also being posted electronically on efanzines. In this often difficult. But if I could’ve imagined how for fanzines than is the case now—where did they ambiguous light, I’m discontinuing this long-standing Trap Door feature after this issue. memorable those days would be I might’ve been all go!?—and because of this past issues of Trap