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Tellus, issue 2, November 1941
Page 15
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TELUS PAGE FIFTEEN GOLDEN AFTERGLOW [handwritten] AUTHOR'S FORWARD: Before you tear this page out of TELLUS, pause for just one moment to read this rather disillusioning forward. At the time of writing I am neither drunk nor troubled by a hang-over; to be perfectly blunt, I'm sober! Furthermore, not a single personality is to be insulted or dragged through the care-worn mud. And --- just to double your wonder---this is not on demand. Absolutely astounding for Fortier, isn't it? Yes; and bub, I'm havin' a helluva miserable time. Not even...a tiny...beer... A fan's first convention is wonderful, truly delightful--And just such was the Denvention for yours truly. Never was there more fun, more beer, more actual enjoyment, or less women; but there goes 2J4 on another wild tangent. The fact is that those Denver Daze were something to store in that imaginary chest of treasured memories. However, it is odd to realize that I stop to ponder over the question of whether or not those almost legendary hours were any more fascinating than the post-convention times. I call them the Frisco Daze. Brother: Frisco didn't need to bid for the 1942 stfvention title; she held a beautiful riot in miniature by the Golden Gate. It may be arbitrary as to the point of beauty, but there is no doubt that the fans held a riot--that wasn't too much of a miniature. Chum, here's the point. Oakland and San Francisco were filled to overflowing with fans from all points of the nation. Representatives from Detroit, Chicago, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, Decatur, or some such godforsakon place, and others to dim to recall where here. Arriving home from travelling around the countryside, I was certain--distinctly certain--that sweet Morpheus would be mine for many a night. Denver, Albuquerque, Grand Canyon, Barstow, Fresno, and all points homeward: so many different places and so many sleepless nights proved too much for the indefatigable soak. One night's sleep! That's all I had when finding myself back on the old stomping ground. Sunday eve was the time of my arrival, but it was also the time of Forry's departure. I missed seeing Ackerman and chatting with the gang at a grand round robin which Tom Wright later related in full detail. Monday morning a call cake from Erle Korshak. The boy from the Midwest was in town. Happy days! Drunken gaze! And more sleepless nights! But fans are fans; you and I know that there isn't a single true stfan in the country who, to have a good gab-fest with a bunch of famous fans wouldn't squander his last penny and throw the bed out the window. During the remainder of Monday, Tom told all about the previous proceedings, and Tuesday found me heading for San Francisco. We gathered at Korshak's four-dollar suite and had a grand session--(that's a week, and not a day--the four bucks, I mean.) Earlier, I bounced into the lobby to find Erle weaving a tale of woo to his parents in fond hopes of procuring some ready cash. He was broke in no uncertain terms. My heart goes out to a fellow like that who will risk all in an attempt to get around and meet the fans.
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TELUS PAGE FIFTEEN GOLDEN AFTERGLOW [handwritten] AUTHOR'S FORWARD: Before you tear this page out of TELLUS, pause for just one moment to read this rather disillusioning forward. At the time of writing I am neither drunk nor troubled by a hang-over; to be perfectly blunt, I'm sober! Furthermore, not a single personality is to be insulted or dragged through the care-worn mud. And --- just to double your wonder---this is not on demand. Absolutely astounding for Fortier, isn't it? Yes; and bub, I'm havin' a helluva miserable time. Not even...a tiny...beer... A fan's first convention is wonderful, truly delightful--And just such was the Denvention for yours truly. Never was there more fun, more beer, more actual enjoyment, or less women; but there goes 2J4 on another wild tangent. The fact is that those Denver Daze were something to store in that imaginary chest of treasured memories. However, it is odd to realize that I stop to ponder over the question of whether or not those almost legendary hours were any more fascinating than the post-convention times. I call them the Frisco Daze. Brother: Frisco didn't need to bid for the 1942 stfvention title; she held a beautiful riot in miniature by the Golden Gate. It may be arbitrary as to the point of beauty, but there is no doubt that the fans held a riot--that wasn't too much of a miniature. Chum, here's the point. Oakland and San Francisco were filled to overflowing with fans from all points of the nation. Representatives from Detroit, Chicago, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, Decatur, or some such godforsakon place, and others to dim to recall where here. Arriving home from travelling around the countryside, I was certain--distinctly certain--that sweet Morpheus would be mine for many a night. Denver, Albuquerque, Grand Canyon, Barstow, Fresno, and all points homeward: so many different places and so many sleepless nights proved too much for the indefatigable soak. One night's sleep! That's all I had when finding myself back on the old stomping ground. Sunday eve was the time of my arrival, but it was also the time of Forry's departure. I missed seeing Ackerman and chatting with the gang at a grand round robin which Tom Wright later related in full detail. Monday morning a call cake from Erle Korshak. The boy from the Midwest was in town. Happy days! Drunken gaze! And more sleepless nights! But fans are fans; you and I know that there isn't a single true stfan in the country who, to have a good gab-fest with a bunch of famous fans wouldn't squander his last penny and throw the bed out the window. During the remainder of Monday, Tom told all about the previous proceedings, and Tuesday found me heading for San Francisco. We gathered at Korshak's four-dollar suite and had a grand session--(that's a week, and not a day--the four bucks, I mean.) Earlier, I bounced into the lobby to find Erle weaving a tale of woo to his parents in fond hopes of procuring some ready cash. He was broke in no uncertain terms. My heart goes out to a fellow like that who will risk all in an attempt to get around and meet the fans.
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