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En Garde, whole no. 9, March 1944
Page 3
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page 3. I spent half an hour or more of much needed time trying to get some comprehension of the situation through Degler's skull, but all I got for my pains was his volu ble but unintelligible attempt to sell me a bill of CC goods. Finally I told him I had to get back to work, and pointed out again that more fun would be had by all if he failed to attend. Degler still seemed unable to believe anyone could be such an unbeliever as to spurn Superfan and his great Mission to fandom. But just in case the impossible was happening, he cast about for other methods of achieving his objectives. He began telling me what a swell guy he'd always thought me, and how he'd always supported the FFF, and still did, and what a swell mag NOVA was, etc., ad nauseum. In an abused tone he related his tale of overcoming insurmountable obstacles to get here, and told how much he'd planned on seeing Tucker to discuss certain things with him. It was very pathetic---or would have been if he'd been a better actor. I told Degler for the severalth time that the fans weren't due until the next afternoon, and that if he came around then, providing Tucker wanted to talk to him. I certainly had no objections. I even volunteered that I might discuss things with him at greater length if I had the time then. Whereupon I turned back to job of straightening things up. But Degler followed around at my heels like a hungry hound. A desperate gleam came into his eyes. He began speculating aloud about how he was going to manage to eat and sleep with the mere 60¢ he had to his name. When I ignored him he came out baldly and asked me to loan him a few bucks to finance a room and his meals. The cost of the moving and attendant expenses had pretty near strapped all of us. We just hadn't any money to spare. Then he decided we could at least put him up for the night. I asked him to look around and tell me just where he could be put. In fact we were going to be damn lucky if we managed to rig up a place for ourselves to sleep. Degler got more and more desperate. He started wondering aloud for my benefit about just what he could do. He supposed he could sleep in the depot---bet then, they probably wouldn't let him. Of course there was the bus station---but it might not be open all night. I assured him it probably would be, but he didn't seem quite convinced. His plight became so piteous under his frantic flow of words, that I'm afraid I entertained thoughts of weakening against my better judgement. But Walt and Jack got me aside and strengthened my resolve. As they pointed out, giving him money then would simply insure his mooching presence for the next few weeks, or untill we refused to tolerate him longer. Mooching can be reduced to an art, and Degler had obviously made great progress in this direction. Before he finally left, Degler tried to borrow money from everybody in the house. He left muttering bitterly about "Exclusion Acts". Friday morning he showed up again. Abby Lu was the only one present at the moment, the rest of us being across town after a few odds and ends we'd left behind. He told her he'd wired home for some money, and that he wanted to see Tucker. She reminded him that Tucker wasn't due until late in the afternoon. So he left again, saying that he'd be back later. That was the last we saw of him. Degler certainly wasn't made to feel that he was WANTED, for he wasn't. But he definitely WAS NOT EXCLUDED!
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page 3. I spent half an hour or more of much needed time trying to get some comprehension of the situation through Degler's skull, but all I got for my pains was his volu ble but unintelligible attempt to sell me a bill of CC goods. Finally I told him I had to get back to work, and pointed out again that more fun would be had by all if he failed to attend. Degler still seemed unable to believe anyone could be such an unbeliever as to spurn Superfan and his great Mission to fandom. But just in case the impossible was happening, he cast about for other methods of achieving his objectives. He began telling me what a swell guy he'd always thought me, and how he'd always supported the FFF, and still did, and what a swell mag NOVA was, etc., ad nauseum. In an abused tone he related his tale of overcoming insurmountable obstacles to get here, and told how much he'd planned on seeing Tucker to discuss certain things with him. It was very pathetic---or would have been if he'd been a better actor. I told Degler for the severalth time that the fans weren't due until the next afternoon, and that if he came around then, providing Tucker wanted to talk to him. I certainly had no objections. I even volunteered that I might discuss things with him at greater length if I had the time then. Whereupon I turned back to job of straightening things up. But Degler followed around at my heels like a hungry hound. A desperate gleam came into his eyes. He began speculating aloud about how he was going to manage to eat and sleep with the mere 60¢ he had to his name. When I ignored him he came out baldly and asked me to loan him a few bucks to finance a room and his meals. The cost of the moving and attendant expenses had pretty near strapped all of us. We just hadn't any money to spare. Then he decided we could at least put him up for the night. I asked him to look around and tell me just where he could be put. In fact we were going to be damn lucky if we managed to rig up a place for ourselves to sleep. Degler got more and more desperate. He started wondering aloud for my benefit about just what he could do. He supposed he could sleep in the depot---bet then, they probably wouldn't let him. Of course there was the bus station---but it might not be open all night. I assured him it probably would be, but he didn't seem quite convinced. His plight became so piteous under his frantic flow of words, that I'm afraid I entertained thoughts of weakening against my better judgement. But Walt and Jack got me aside and strengthened my resolve. As they pointed out, giving him money then would simply insure his mooching presence for the next few weeks, or untill we refused to tolerate him longer. Mooching can be reduced to an art, and Degler had obviously made great progress in this direction. Before he finally left, Degler tried to borrow money from everybody in the house. He left muttering bitterly about "Exclusion Acts". Friday morning he showed up again. Abby Lu was the only one present at the moment, the rest of us being across town after a few odds and ends we'd left behind. He told her he'd wired home for some money, and that he wanted to see Tucker. She reminded him that Tucker wasn't due until late in the afternoon. So he left again, saying that he'd be back later. That was the last we saw of him. Degler certainly wasn't made to feel that he was WANTED, for he wasn't. But he definitely WAS NOT EXCLUDED!
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