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Southern Star, v. 1, issue 3, August 1941
Page 3
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Listen to some Mumblings Jack Chapman Miske waltzed up to us at the Chicon during the Monday afternoon fan business session and sneered "Cripes Tucker, you're ignorant!' -- and meant it. Poor Jack was fit to boil. Discussion was going on as to whether the 1941 Convention should be in Denver or New York. Roinsberg was in a semi-quandry as to the proper steps to take and made it embarrassing for us by stating he would ask each fan present to state his choice. Embarrassing because he appointed at us first, and were an officer of the present convention, and should be tactical enough to withhold comment until all others had indicated a choice. "Where do you want to go, Tucker?" Reinsburg asked. "Denver, " we smirked, "because it's closer." And so it was. All of about nine and three-tenths miles closer to Bloomington than New York. So Jack decided we were ignorant and politely informed us of the fact. Now we are happy, having had the honor of being called down by the master. Once upon a time when Jack was using someone's business envelopes for his fan mail, we pried off a sticker in the corner and found they belonged to a Cleveland kennel. Jack wasn't going to the dogs, he was snitching for them We remarked on this and received the information we could consider ourselves nosy, as well as Jack Speer who had done likewise. Another time we dropped the 'Chapman' from the envelope because it called for spanning seven more keys every time we wrote him a letter; yes we were reminded of that, too. We recently had a letter from a chap down in Texas ... I'm not positive, but O believe he gave his name as 14. He told us he was a painter of no mean sorts, that eh could, on order, bat out any science fictionistic scene from a spaceship to an alien monstrosity. Other planets were his specialty. If we wished he could even copy covers with remarkable success. Prices for this work ranged from two bucks to three hundred dollars per. And didn't we desire a painting quick? His letter was a beaut --one Voice of Madge could tax a lithomachine with. We asked permission to print it in LeZ and same was given, altho it s not likely now that it will be printed. Offhand, and with an eye to business we recommended that he attempt to sell his paintings to the pro mags. If he was any good at all on bug-eyed mons-
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Listen to some Mumblings Jack Chapman Miske waltzed up to us at the Chicon during the Monday afternoon fan business session and sneered "Cripes Tucker, you're ignorant!' -- and meant it. Poor Jack was fit to boil. Discussion was going on as to whether the 1941 Convention should be in Denver or New York. Roinsberg was in a semi-quandry as to the proper steps to take and made it embarrassing for us by stating he would ask each fan present to state his choice. Embarrassing because he appointed at us first, and were an officer of the present convention, and should be tactical enough to withhold comment until all others had indicated a choice. "Where do you want to go, Tucker?" Reinsburg asked. "Denver, " we smirked, "because it's closer." And so it was. All of about nine and three-tenths miles closer to Bloomington than New York. So Jack decided we were ignorant and politely informed us of the fact. Now we are happy, having had the honor of being called down by the master. Once upon a time when Jack was using someone's business envelopes for his fan mail, we pried off a sticker in the corner and found they belonged to a Cleveland kennel. Jack wasn't going to the dogs, he was snitching for them We remarked on this and received the information we could consider ourselves nosy, as well as Jack Speer who had done likewise. Another time we dropped the 'Chapman' from the envelope because it called for spanning seven more keys every time we wrote him a letter; yes we were reminded of that, too. We recently had a letter from a chap down in Texas ... I'm not positive, but O believe he gave his name as 14. He told us he was a painter of no mean sorts, that eh could, on order, bat out any science fictionistic scene from a spaceship to an alien monstrosity. Other planets were his specialty. If we wished he could even copy covers with remarkable success. Prices for this work ranged from two bucks to three hundred dollars per. And didn't we desire a painting quick? His letter was a beaut --one Voice of Madge could tax a lithomachine with. We asked permission to print it in LeZ and same was given, altho it s not likely now that it will be printed. Offhand, and with an eye to business we recommended that he attempt to sell his paintings to the pro mags. If he was any good at all on bug-eyed mons-
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