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1963 - It Begins - I was in a gang; a gang of idiots. Back in the days when we lived under the constant terror the smallest infraction would lead to a black mark on our "permanent record". That imaginary device used by school personnel to keep the weak willed and gullible in line. Yeh, I lived in fear that someday in the distant future I would be denied a job because I cut class in junior high.
- Ronnie was the most incendiary of the lot. He built a huge slingshot in his backyard using a bicycle inner-tube and was able to propel any of the thousand apricots from the trees in his backyard five or six blocks away. At night he would take apricots soaked in lighter fluid, torch and send them sailing into the night like meteorites. It’s a wonder the neighborhood hadn’t burned to the ground.
- He had painted the inside of his garage completely with glow-in-the dark paint and remains one of the most amazingly eerie things I’ve ever seen. Most times we would spend at the big ditch during certain times of the year when it would fill with pollywogs and toads which we would loose in all corners of the neighborhood. One of those very lazy summers we strapped three oil drums together with some planks and sailed the smooth and swift flow from our frog infested swamp through the cement causeway, past neighborhood and fields and finally, a good 6 hours later, the river opened to the sea where the motley and very sunburned Tom Sawyers ran aground. We hadn’t given any thought to getting home which meant another phone call to the ever suffering mom and goodbye to our trusty vessel.
- The day came when our treasured ditch was hewn geometric and cemented in. There it was, the place held dear in all our hearts, now just another big gutter.
- We set off to inaugurate the new ditch. . . in flame. Ronnie had one of those 10 gallon glass water jugs which we filled with gasoline and plugged with a well soaked rag. It took three of us to carry the thing under the cover of darkness to the bridge. Lighting the rag, we gave a mighty heave and the jug sailed majestically through the air, crashing on the bottom. A terrifying salvo of flames roared passed us into the air as we gasped in awe, then dashed into the night to watch the outcome from afar. It wasn’t long before a firetruck showed up, but since there was nothing to burn, they had nothing to do.
- I can’t say the new ditch didn’t have it’s own adventures, for the new concrete waterway had a myriad of tunnels and outlets leading to (or from) gutters and spillways; all of which had to be explored. With flashlights we would enter and follow the huge cement tubing, bruising our knees and holding back any signs of claustrophobia. The lack of fear in a little boy is directly proportional to the number of other little boys in the vicinity
- I started a short lived tradition as Independence Day rolled around. Usually we would buy fireworks at the local stands and run home giddy with impending destruction. This year I decided to dismantle the fireworks I purchased, mix the contents with match heads, pack the mixture into a small box and tie securely. It was in front of Barney’s house I thought to start our firework celebration with my offering known as the “Crummy Loogie Bomb”. Under cover of darkness with as much pomp and circumstance as I could muster, promising a spectacle "Beyond Your Wildest Dreams", I placed the box in the middle of the street and touched off the fuse. The flame snaked along the fuse, disappeared into the box and then. . . . nothing. Had all this been a dismal failure? Amid the shameful jeers of my comrades, the bomb suddenly erupted into a wonderful tower of flames and sparks, passing the telephone wires. I had regained my respect and frankly, felt pretty grand about it.
- It was that very night we started a “Crummy Loogie Bomb” for the following year.
Meanwhile - In the Real World…- I was never political; no, not by any means. I’d no axe to grind and no point to be made until… It was in the papers. A band of PTA do-gooders were removing books from local school libraries, especially those of Edgar Rice Burroughs. The basis for their removal was the immorality of Tarzan and Jane. Seems the frisky nature lovers were never married* and continued living in sin, scoffing a more conservative lifestyle. Even science fiction books were on the list if they appeared too free-thinking After my debacle with Famous Monsters #11, I thought this puritanism has gone too far and thus, every day I would walk into the library wearing a jacket and placing a book or two under each armpit, walk out again. Some days I would score a dozen or more books and soon, every science fiction book in the library had been stuffed into my Hall locker. Came the end of the school year, the Tarzan rancor was over and everyone was to leave their lockers cleaned and open. Staying till most had left the building, I removed all the loot and placed it into the locker of one of the bastards who had tormented me over the past year; slammed the door and spun the combination lock. Now I had no way of knowing, but I've fancied that lowlife scum being busted for having all those stolen books and getting a giant black mark on his "Permanent Record".
- *But You and I know they were indeed married in "Adventues of Tarzan (1913)".
The First Long Beach Science Fantasy Convention  My chatting up fans and conventions was contagious and sent everyone in the Long Beach Filmonster Society daydreaming about the promised grandeur of conventions and only natural our homegrown gaggle of screwballs should put on our own. Sure, the real conventions were apparently about books, pulps and things of a written nature. While we had such material, most of our collections consisted of movie posters and stills.- <Johnny Ball, Danny Jacobs,
- David Stipes, Wayne Hatley
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- Not to worry, we contacted Forry who was most eager to help and sent a bunch of postcards to monsterfen on his mailing list bidding them a grand time at "The First Annual Long Beach Science Fantasy Convention". There was no thought of putting on another con in the future, but the word "Annual" had a nice ring to it.
- The comparatively well-heeled family of Steve Dobbins had a rec room in the back yard, perfect for our needs. Danny Jacobs was probably the smartest of the bunch, and certainly the most motivated. Wayne Hatley had a nice collection of movie memorabilia as did myself.
- It was late November when 25 daring souls showed up in Steve's backyard rec room to bathe in the glory of our collections, chat and boast this was the very First FilmonsterCon in the World! Whether or not that was the case, we knew not, but Forry never told us otherwise.
 Forry showed up and was most gracious, handing out signed photos and spending the entire day putting up with kids badgering and bumbling about. The highlight of the convention was our own movie show! That being a collection of 8mm Castle Home Movies, a bedsheet strung on the inside of the garage door and a projector I bought from Sears for $12.00. And thus we whiled away the day, bathed in the flickering light of Lon Chaney, The Lost World, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, and pretty much anything in the Castle and Blackhawk Films Catalogue!- Never gave a thought we had no chairs in our theater and nobody gave a hoot about sitting on the hard concrete floor for a couple hours. Steve pulled a chair from the kitchen on which Forry would roost and everyone else was consigned to concrete. By and by the show was over. . . by every stretch of the imagination, for it appeared, while everyone was in the garage someone had gone into the rec room and completely cleaned out every poster, photo and magazine; plus the boxes they came in! Yep, there was a room full of squeaky clean tables and to quote the Raven, "nothing more".
- Forry was shocked and disappointed, but consoled the 5 of us with dinner at a local restaurant! Thus bringing down the curtain on "The First Annual Long Beach Science Fantasy Convention"!
- We were going to charge something like 10¢ at the door, but nobody thought to actually collect the money, so it turned out to be a free event. This was a shame, as we planned on getting Forry a "Thank You" trophy cup for helping us out. Something grand with the name of our convention and all our names engraved thereon. I almost cried when I saw the final miniscule trophy Steve had engraved till the money ran out reading merely: "To the Ackermonster, Steve D" (Sigh). But Forry took that trophy and put it on his piano along side much grander awards and there it sat (home to a furry toy mouse) as long as he was in the Sherbourne residence.
 Surprise, Surprise, I found an AB Dick mimeograph at a garage sale for $10.00. Of course, I still hadn't an iota of talent for writing, but who can be bothered with details? My first mimeo project "Orbit" was 10 pages, plus a photo of the Metaluna monster from "This Island Earth" run off on mom's chemical copier of which 20 copies were printed.- There would be other mimeo projects, but I was disappointed with the quality of the finished pieces and the basic limitations of mimeography itself. There were those who had the knack for getting the most from their stencils and using various colors, but in the end, it remained more quaint than interesting. I would soon find Horror Movie Fandom, Western Fandom, Comic Fandom, Serials Fandom and yes, Surfing Fandom may have begun with mimeo, but by the early '60s all moved to offset printing.
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