Saturday 21st AprilVERA JOHNSON: Fred Hemmings and other con organisers discussed mistakes they had made. Would they do it all over again? Some said yes, some no. The bid for the '74 con won by the Newcastle group, the only ones who made a serious attempt. (Howie Rosenblum voted for Newcastle Brown.)
DAVE ROWE: Saturday morning was too early for a con bid. The neos hadn't had enough time to fully acclimatize, and as, for the majority of those registered, OMPAcon was their first con, the neo-vote could have been disastrously crucial. However, if anyone ever 'threw' a con-bid it was Bram Stokes. At first, he wasn't even in the bidding hall and when he did finally arrive he proceeded to talk down to everyone. Presumably, Bram thought it would be plain sailing for his "Supercon" bid, but being greeted at Bristol with so many fen sporting "Newcastle in '74" badges, must have proved too depressing, and many of his supporters must have backed down after his remarks. However, in Bram's favour it must be said that he was very helpful and free with advice to next year's committee, for which Ian Williams has already thanked him, in print.
The actual Newcastle bid, in comparison, was a murmur, dispite (or maybe because of) the mass of banners and badges supporting Newcastle in '74. The bidders stuttered and dried up, causing Gray Boak to noticeably edge on his seat, ready to dive to the fore to save the battered banner of Newcastle. I still find it inexplicably farcical that the Treasurer/Chairman/Co-bidder for TYNECON '74 was freeloading at OMPAcon '73. VERA JOHNSON: Then Brian Aldiss dragged in his "mystery box", a battered looking wooden crate. After explaining that Crufts, the dog people, had taken over the SF field, he announced the new SF award, the Fido. He had one in the box: a black and white stuffed dog. Elaborating on this theme, Brian provided us with a lot of laughs. Then he read two stories from a trilogy. I would have liked to hear .the third as well.
PETER ROBERTS: An attractive picture of Malcolm Edwards's wife, Christine, appeared in the Saturday Bristol Evening Post - she was described as "a wife of an sf publisher" which caused some guffaws amongst readers of VECTOR.
MALCOLM EDWARDS: In the important area of making the Edwards family more famous, the Con was a reasonable success - in fact, a striking one. We were sitting in the lounge on Saturday morning when I was approached by a reporter and photographer from the Bristol Evening Post. As it turned out, they didn't want to interview me on the Significance of Science Fiction in the Modern World and maybe put a photo on the front page - they were more interested in Christine, but instead of going through any of this modern nonsense about equality of the sexes they wanted to ask me if they could borrow her to take some photos in the Art Room. Once they had received my assent, they dragged her off without further ado. Apparently they were rather nonplussed when they asked her a few questions and discovered she didn't read science fiction. What was she doing there then? Christine explained about me, and VECTOR, and the BSFA Later that day we picked up a copy of the paper, which carried one of the photos, plus two articles - one done from an interview with Brian Aldiss, and one of the usual ho-ho sf convention things ... "Time warps, interplanetary travel, monsters and invasions are likely to be among the casual chat at the Grand Hotel, Bristol, over the next few days Part of the general article referred to "Mrs Christine Edwards, a publisher's wife from Harrow"J Well, I always believe what I read in the newspapers, so henceforth don't try referring to me as a librarian, or a fanzine editor, or any of that stuff. I'm a publisher now -- it's official.
For my own part, I was approached by Gerald Bishop on the Friday, asking if I'd mind being interviewed by Radio Bristol. About what?, I asked. Oh, just the BSFA, you know, said he. I agreed, but nothing seemed to come of it so I'd put it out of my mind by midmorning Saturday, and was just settling down with some extortionate (17p each) hotel coffee, when Gerald came and dragged me into another room (the plush lounge, where us science fiction layabouts weren't allowed) and left me with a friendly lady from Radio Bristol. We sat down, me all ready to give a few pithy comments about the BSFA, and she turned on the tape-recorder. What exactly is a science fiction fan?, she asked. Zotzl, Gerbish. Zotzl Worse still, after I'd stumbled through Everyman's Guide to Fandom in Three Easy Sentences, and staggered back to the lounge, my coffee was cold.
The formal programme was only intermittently interesting; there seemed to be too many panel discussions which were there solely because, what the hell, you gotta have panel discussions. The best of those I attended was that on time-travel on Saturday afternoon, with lightning attendee Philip Strick in the chair and James Blish, Ken Bulmer and Bob Shaw on the panel. Even so, this was far from being a total success: too much of the hour was spent talking around different aspects of the subject without finding a really profitable area for discussion. This is a fault inevitable in panel discussions unless they are both well-moderated (which this one was) and either rehearsed to some degree or very clearly defined and directed (which it wasn't). Nevertheless, many of the things which were said were very interesting, and I wished it had gone on longer.
After lunch came the GoH speech. Titled 'The Delany Intersection' this doesn't seem to have made much of an impression on anyone who reported on the proceedings.
Later on Saturday, Guest of Honour Chip Delany spoke, largely about the academic acceptance of sf. He spoke well, although not saying anything really new. One rather disturbing item came up in the ensuing discussion: there has been a lot of talk lately about holding more 'fannish' conventions, and this had given the impression, to James Blish at least, that pros were not welcome at these gatherings. Not so, not so. All that's meant, I think, is more emphasis on talk and less on the formal programming at the Novacons - much like many American regional conventions, I believe. I suppose I should mention the Fancy Dress Parade in the evening. Normally I dislike these events more than I can tell you, though some masochistic urge always drags me away from the bar to watch. However, on this occasion, proceedings were disrupted by a remarkable and entertaining robots' protest march, masterminded by Tony Walsh and the Liverpool group.
LEN MOFFATT: After dinner it was time to get back to the hotel and get ready for the Costume Parade. June was to be a judge, so I let her go down first. I was donning the motley, doing my Pike Pickens clown-tramp bit, and wanted to come down alone to see how many would or would not recognize me. As usual, most people didn't until they got close enough to study me carefully. I wasn't in the competition, of course, but merely there to entertain and have a jolly good time.
All robot photos (l-o), all costume photos (mb). Lady in red is Pauline Dungate, and the Iron Chicken & Stainless Steel Rat (below right) were Hazel Reynolds & Chris Morgan, others unknown. JUNE MOFFATT: The Costume Parade was a little disappointing. There were about 15 costumes in all. Some of the costumes were well made, but were detracted from by the fact that the wearers thereof had no idea of a presentation. They simply walked across the floor in front of the judges, some of them not even looking our way. We had to request one costume-wearer to come back in order to see him - he had marched across the room about thirty feet away in what seemed like a great hurry.
We were allowed one prize for the children's division and it was a real pleasure to award it to the one and only entry. A tiny girl had been dressed up in a red and blue costume, including boots and cape. The adult carrying her was also carrying a sign reading "CONdensed SOUPergirl". The two prize winners were "The Stainless Steel Rat" and "The Iron Chicken", which I later heard had been whipped up out of aluminum foil and inspiration not long before the Parade.
After the available costumes had gone by, we were about to start deliberating, when the hall was suddenly invaded by a group of Robots, demanding their rights. They brandished signs, with slogans such as "More Oil, Less Toil!" "Robot Liberation!", "Asimov Was Wrong!", "Gay Lubrication", ["No Computation Without Representation", "Refute Not Compute", "Rights For Robots" and "Integrate The Integrated"] etc. There must have been a dozen people - er - robots taking part, and they stomped and hollered and threw great quantities of old computer printouts and tape all over the floor. When the judges got over laughing, which was sometime after the Robots made their exit, it was decided that they should get a special prize - that of clearing up the mess. Which they did.
PETER ROBERTS: The Fancy Dress Competition was held on Saturday with Phil Rogers officiating; once again Tony & Simone Walsh (with help from LiG) had organized something of a spectacle which I, along with some twenty others, took part in; wrapped in cooking foil (over faces and hands) we marched into the end of the Fancy Dress display and demanded Robot Liberation - placards were held aloft and hundredweights of computer tape were strewn about the audience. Some trouble with a hotel underling on the way to the demo threatened to spoil the affair for the participants (though it was later cleared up with the aid of, I think, the Assistant Manager), but the final outcome was entirely successful and abundant praise for the entire operation came from most of the people in the hall - if not all, indeed. James Blish later proposed a toast to "the robots" at the banquet.
Robot masterminds Tony & Simone Walsh were only newly part of the Liverpool Group (LiG), but their original plan had been to move to London.... SIMONE WALSH: When Tony decided it was time for a change of employers we thought it would be a good opportunity to have a change of town as well. We decided to investigate the possibilities of enriching London fandom. It took us about ten seconds of looking into an estate agents window near Ealing Broadway Station to realise that we couldn't afford the sort of house that we wanted. You know, one with a roof and electricity.
We then asked Ina [Shorrock] to send us some house price cuttings from their area and when we received them we were astounded, you could buy a semi in Babington for £8,000 and a detached anywhere on the Wirral for £10,000 - £12,000. Soon after that everything fell into place, the job materialised, the house buying and selling was finalised, we headed north to the Land of LiG.
Ironically, Simone would end up living in Ealing a few years after this, albeit without Tony.
The Fancy Dress was followed by The OMPA Party: "Drink to Ken Bulmer, founder of OMPA, who made this con possible. Admission, a measure of spirits for the punch bowl."
LEN MOFFATT: I noticed Banks Mebane (and later, others) stripping to the waist so that local artists (or girls with artistic inclinations) could paint designs on their backs and chests. Unfortunately, none of the girls in the bar returned the favour.
JUNE MOFFATT: Somewhere around here, we were invited to autograph Arfer [Arthur Cruttenden]'s shirt. He offered us a choice of coloured pens to do so, explaining that the autograph would be embroidered over with matching thread. There were a multitude of signatures on the shirt, both embroidered and fresh. It was obviously not long until he would have to start a new shirt.
It reminded us of Bruce Pelz's embroidered shirt, except Bruce specializes in fan art drawn on the shirt, which is then embroidered over. Also, Bruce does not wear this shirt at the time it's being drawn on. (It's an odd sensation, writing one's signature over a shoulder blade!) LEN MOFFATT: I exchanged some puns with Sam Long, who then told me a Feghoot story. I'd heard it before, but let him tell it right up to the punchline, which I spoke in unison with him.
I also spent some time explaining TAFF to various young fans present. There were many there who didn't know what TAFF was all about, though there was a brief explanation in the Program Booklet. (But who reads program booklets at cons?) I was happy to do this, and pleased that most of them seemed to think that TAFF was a Good Thing, once they found out wotinell it was. I'm not sure when June went to bed, but I didn't make it until 4:30 a.m., or so it says here in my notes. PETER ROBERTS: I managed to get home on Friday night, but on Saturday I sat in on an all-night card session - dealer's choice, as usual, mostly varieties of poker, red dog, or, of course, brag. The same school had been going for part of Friday night (when I'd won £8 and promptly lost it again) and was going on Saturday and Sunday night until breakfast at 8.00am - the ten of us on Saturday night comprised the only fools still awake. Final result? I think I gained £2, but several people may have walked home.
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