- Anyone that could feasibly leave by their own means vanished into the wee hours of the morning. Everyone else, passed out where they sat. Sometime Sunday morning, the groggy remains of David Del Valle, Hy and Sonia, myself and CJ decided to go for breakfast. Sonia wore a pair of boots though she had evidentially fallen asleep after getting only one off and now, couldn't remember how to get it back on.
- What a ragtag mob of Satan's Rejects we must have appeared, striding into the coffee shop - Sonia was carrying her right boot as she would "Never leave home without my shoes" and loping to our booth. She had also forgotten how to put on her bra and continually remarked on that fact while flashing her prodigious breasts to passersby and assorted busboys.
- She was the mother of Carradines Robert, Keith and Christopher and began waxing nostalgic over each, especially Keith's music career remarking "I wish he would have written a song for me". To which David responded "He did, "I'm Easy". But in fact, she was disheartened over the apparent neglect of her children that had left her one step from the street which is where she finally died. Keith described her thusly: “She was a manic depressive paranoid schizophrenic catatonic — she had it all.” (NY Times HERE)
- At last we were sated if not sobered and everyone went their ways while I spent the rest of the day cleaning God know what from every inch of the flat.
A Day in the Sun  Ricky Schwartz had worked with John Chambers, and was now doing specialized make-up for Hustler magazine and asked me to tag along on his latest project in the desert near Palm Springs. - It was a hot, dusty Friday evening we pulled into the motel base of operations and meeting with the photographer and model. The first person I met was Nicole, the French cutie who would be doing hair. Things were already looking up.
- 5:00 am came early and Ricky's project was using Planet of the Apes style latex pieces to make the model look like a cat. Turns out the model was Patti Tate, sister of murdered actress Sharon Tate.
- The make-up consisted of a latex kitty snout with some eyebrows. Not much really, but when Ricky began affixing the appliance, she started to panic! Hmmm, well, nothing a few ludes wouldn't cure and off we were to the shooting ground.
- Patti stripped and the cameraman ran her through a few poses; standing, squatting, kneeling, laying, crawling around on all fours - over and over again. The cameraman was a maniac and we were out there for a good 5 hours. It was easily 120° in the Palm Springs desert. It was so hot, the make-up kept melting and had to be repeatedly replaced and I would cover Patti's backside with a wet towel while film was being reloaded, but clearly she was burning to a crisp and wouldn't be doing anything on her back for the immediate future.
 It was late in the afternoon when we quit shooting; the ludes had worn off and Patti was a dehydrated, dirty mess and sobbing hysterically, almost unable to stand up. Back at the motel, Ricky removed what little make-up was still on Patti's face and we propped her in the shower and cleaned her up. She collapsed on the bed where I gooped her up with lotion from stem to blistered stern. She made a lot of money, but it was a hard day's work.- After that one wild night at the motel, Nicole and I dated for some time, but she was a wacky one. While on a photo shoot to Jamaica, she claimed a voodoo curse was cast on her and every now and then would break into panic attacks yelling "The Voodoo got me!" which would last until she either calmed down or passed out. In the end, Nicole went back to Paris, Ricky moved to Santa Barbara and Patti died of breast cancer in 2000. Not a single photo from the day's shoot was ever printed.
The Madness of Conventions - There have always been creative fans; some more creative than others and at no time was that more evident than the Star Wars and Star Trek fans who were manufacturing and selling reproductions of uniforms, weapons, implements from these productions. The studios got wise and came out swinging with a series of "Cease and Desist" orders lightly sprinkled about the dealers room at several conventions. Probably the most celebrated was the case of Tony Anello vs. Fox Studios which you may read HERE (1 meg PDF). Eventually, everyone was sufficiently petrified and the furor died down.
Doug Wright vs. The World - By anybody's count, there were just too many conventions in the L.A. area, but there was a certain harmony among conmeisters. . . until Doug Wright came along. He instilled rules that to most seemed "Unfannish" at best and just mean spirited at its worst". There was no freebie area where you could find information about other conventions, dealers weren't allowed to buy tables at his con if they had tables at another. and other seemingly petty things. On my way to Doug's "Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror Con", I stopped off at Golden Apples Comics where owner Bill Liebowitz gave me a a handful of flyers to hand to the minions at his dealer table.
- As I approached the convention at the (LAX) Marriott Hotel there were a number of fans with signs and placards picketing the convention! Buying my membership, I dutifully signed the waiver vowing I would not cause a disturbance, advertise another convention nor denigrate Doug's con. As I approached the entrance, Doug set upon me and confiscated my flyers. If the flyers made it to the Golden Apples table is anyone's guess.
- Doug finally released a ranting denouncement of fellow conmeisters from the Greens to Craig Miller, Westercon, Bjo and others which you may read HERE (2 meg PDF).
- There was certainly enough attitude to go around. As Vice President and Co-Founder of the Sci-Fi Academy, Don Reed brought me along to a Guest Party at the Greene's Phantasmacon held at the Bonaventure Hotel. Only a few moments after our arrival, I was approached by Gloria Greene who said loud enough for everyone to hear "YOU are a nobody and have to leave!". I'm sure I turned beet red and my only commiseration came from Kirk Alyn who left with me and we went up to his room and smoked a doobie.
-
- 1980 - A Decade of Decadence and Downfall
- But evidentally, none of the fire started in 1980. I remember little and have few photos to prove anything.
- Things were falling apart. I came back from Europe to find I had no job. Don wasn't speaking to me because I called him an ass for destroying the future of the Academy.
- A friend in Palm Springs was publishing a local newspaper and offered plenty of dope and rock'nroll if I worked on the thing; just in time; and fortuitous it was. His old frame house-turned-Daily Planet may have been shy of furniture, but was stocked with graphics machinery and beer.
 - When I worked in Hollywood, all the typesetting and photo work was sent out or done with rub-on letters. I would do all the Paste-Up and Layout with type done to my specs by other people.
- This guy had his own typsetting machine, a Compugraphic Editwriter 7500>. This baby could access a whopping 4 fonts at any given time and burn the fonts to film as quickly as I could type! Burned film would scroll into a cannister which would be run through chemicals, producing mighy fine galleys of type to be trimmed and layed out to our design. It was a playground of border tapes, X-Acto knives and Letraset Screentones.
- The owner was pushing an international syndication business and for awhile I was doing movie reviews that would wind up in publicatins in the US and Europe.
- It was fun while it lasted and all good things must come to an end. Looks like I was destined to return to Hollywood.
|
