Wednesday, May 10, 1972 - Page 131 LOCATION: Newport Beach, California 11:08:59 PM Went out in the boat, it being a fair day. I tried to get a fish with the lure, but after 'bout half an hour it got caught on something underneath and the line broke. So I paddled out to the islands of back bay. I found a good secluded spot to sun bathe. I'm reading "Childhood's End" like I was supposed to last year in S.F., Mary's class. Din't get around to it in those days. I've been working on my comic strip collection too -- still trying to get it finished. 11:14:07 P.M. ------- Tha's all
Monday, May 1, 1972 - Page 122 LOCATION: Newport Beach, California MAY DAY!
11:25 PM Took a bit of a (an?) hiatus. During which every darned day was sunny, so I, of course had to go out. I've been kayaking with Mike Sarason [brother-in-law] several times, and a kid adopted me (Jordan Sutton -- I was walking to mail a letter to Soozwol, and he noted the Star Trek Sciences emblem on my red Harbor High shorts."Star Trek sign!" he shouted, and, as a fellow fan, I had to show him my souvenirs). He's sticking to me like fly paper, and that provides added incentive for me to be out and away in private Back Bay. Jord's mom, Tish, is a science fiction connoisseur too. She's a fairly nice person. GAD! My social life is growing.
The Wonder-Witch next door with the noisy parrots, wind chimes, and kids talked at me as I was re-patching Patch, so now I have to say "Hi" every time I see her. She's a fairly nice person too. Then there's the old robust gray haired good looking amiable character who I ran into on the Eye Sore raft a month ago or so, so we chat occasionally, mostly about Back Bay fish. Yesterday Mike and Me went spear fishing. We didn't spear one lousy fish, but as I was leaving after seven fruitless hours, one little grunion jumped into my boat. An obvious suicide. I'm using Chunk's Musky Mongoose now, Mike uses Glenn's.
Friday (or was it Saturday?) NO, it was Friday [April 28, 1972] -- Mom & I went to see "Puppet on a Chain" and "Straw Dogs," during which trip the transmission killed itself. Returning noisily to Eye Sore Park, it was learned the Reverse din't work, and eventually the car became wedged in the road, and we got Chunk to come over and at length managed to get it repositioned parallel to our trailer.
Earlier that day I had had the car to go to school in (no connection with the busted transmission). I went to school because of a call I got Wednesday from Timothy Hourigan who said Mary (Lyons) wanted to contact me. So I had to write a story to go to school with, so I wrote "The Typewriter" in a couple of hours. It is the best story I have yet written, and it has no plot. I typed it Thursday [April 27, 1972] whilst watching the Apollo 16 landing (on Sunday [April 23, 1972] Mike & I returned from kayaking in time to see the LEM [Lunar Excursion Module] lift off from Luna -- "Live from the Moon").
Sunday, April 23, 1972: LM launches "Live from the Moon." To see a NASA documentary about this mission, go to April 20 - Apollo 16 moon landing.
Went to school Friday [April 28, 1972] to see Mary, and gave her the 1949 Fantastic Mag I had -- the one with the quaint little article about "Raymond Douglas Bradbury, the Fair Haired Boy of S.F." On her wall, among other stuff, are my Martian Chronicles and 2001 drawings. I also let her read "The Typewriter," and she said it was imitative of Bradbury, which is what I was attempting (dumb premise carried to pointless conclusion). He gets paid for writing that stuff. Why shouldn't I? Mary told me about the LA Con for the World Science Fiction Convention in September. I saw the gang, but mostly ignored the females.
My room is a mess. So is this page. I finished Bradbury's "I Sing the Body Electric!" (YUCK), and Zelazney's "Dream Master" (Intelligentsia master Hugo grabber. Fair.) Am now on page 133 of "Slaughterhouse-Five" (hmm). I'll havta see the movie.
A YEAR AGO: Trip to Europe ended.
My tan is progressing. After I get my room reorganized I must begin the "Morrison Epic." I'll get "The Typewriter" sent tomorrow. There is publicity about some guy having discovered the tenth planet in our Solar System. Maybe so. Remember folks, you heard it first here! Tis now 120205 AM.
Friday, March 10, 1972 - Page 70 LOCATION: Newport Beach, California 11:30 PM I gottup today at 11:30 A.M., and got the mail, then quickly left for school to catch Miz Lyons. She was, however, indisposed and she suggested I discuss my career with her Monday. I did manage to give her an addition to her Lyda Archive and Wall Poster Collection (My rendering of a "2001" moonscape). I also asked about any useful information she may possess concerning possible markets. She mentioned some sources of information on the subject, and said she might ask Ray (Bradbury, that is), though he usually doesn't concern himself with such details since he has two agents to take care of all that.
Masses of students at Harbor High The Galleon 1972
I joined the gang on the lawn. Meg was there, but I hardly noticed her -- likewise on her part. Read Shawna's latest endeavors -- irritated Mary's sense of well-being due to the fact that I had clearly stated I would no longer appear. I assured her that I was not there, and that she had a very lively imagination to suppose that I was -- warped that it is (her imagination, that is). She finally accepted my non-existence, and Timothy read my story that had been inspired by his story. He appreciated the Germanic allusions. After lunch, Tim went to the Beacon room to draw them a cartoon, and Fish came along, having no class to attend. I fooled around in there 'till the period ended, then left.
Thursday, March 9,1972 - Page 69 LOCATION: Newport Beach, California 10:09 PM I slept "last night" somewhere between six & seven, then goddup to drive mom to work. Came back, took bath, went to school -- assembly schedule, got Driver's Training Cert., but GPA is at McNally (For insurance). Put $87.00 in Mariners, withdrew $40 from Centinella. Bought stuff at stationery store, got $2.00 of gas. Bought stuff at Sav-on. Drove to Sears to look for a hat -- unsuccessful. Back to school to give Lyons latest yarn -- returned Tim's Flotsam & Jetsam -- saw Peter & Fish. Mary was upset because I said she'd never see me again last time I saw her, so I said I wasn't really there because it was an unofficial visit. Left very soon.
Went back to Grandlydia for the mail. Mailed "Demigod's Demise" to Analog. Went shopping at 3:00 P.M. -- picked mom up at 4:15. Chunk came at 5:30 to paddle (I declined invitation) and I went to sleep at six. Woke up at 8:00 when L & M came over -- they left and I watched TV for a half hour and ate pork chops & dumplings. I'll pro'ly write a few more rejectable stories just to keep a healthy circulation of manuscripts in the mail. I want to collect rejection slips from every magazine in the business. It's a hobby.
Wednesday, March 8, 1972 - Page 68 LOCATION: Newport Beach, California 12:00 AM I just finished "Demigod's Demise" (previously "Death of a Tyrant"). I'll type it and show it to Mary Lyons tomorrow. I did quite a bit of research -- in fact, ever since I've started my "free-lance writing career" I've been doing a lot of research... on things like flies, Adolph Hitler (erroneously referred to as Schicklgruber), comets (of which it is estimated there are 120,000), stars, the universe in general, dinosaurs, archaeology, the nature of Time, para-physiology, Latin, murder techniques, and various other unrelated topics. If I keep this up I may lose my amateur standing as an ignorant high school drop-out.
Yesterday I got to sleep at 5:30 or 6:00 A.M. and got up this morning at 1:00 P.M. Got the mail ("Analog" came today), and sunned for about half an hour on the raft -- it was pretty cool but there were no clouds -- too windy. I did the dishes. Chunk came over to paddle. I ran out of I ran out of ink again while writing. Larry called. The cat got another lizard. Mom made some Tapioca pudding. Dad worked overtime again. Mom went to a movie. I ended a sentence without a period
(4:09 AM 3/9/72) "D.D." is a lousy story -- so is "M-Q." Realistically, and objectively, I've gotta say that they won't sell.
Tuesday, February 29, 1972 - Page 60 LOCATION: Newport Beach, California 5:30 PM I woke up at 7:00 and drove Mom to work -- we passed the 76 station by C&W's [Chuck and Wendy's] apartment and we saw Chunk in the gas station, staring dazedly out the window. He didn't see us. I drove home and took a bath, got dressed and drove to the 76 station to get the cooler from Chunk (he said he had seen me & Mom), after which I went to the stationery store where I bought three manila envelopes. I returned home to fill the water in the cooler, and mailed the manuscript to Galaxy (I'll get it back though because I used a 6¢ stamp -- it needs 8¢ at least) -- I got the mail and bought eight 8¢ postage stamps. Got my $87 tax refund and a letter from Sue with her picture. Then I went to the bank to deposit ten dollars, then I mailed the $10.00 check to Smithsonian (I got their membership card today -- I mean yesterday), and I drove back home.
At noon I drove to school where I saw Bob Bowman (he was surprised to see me and shook my hand which surprised me cause I don't know him that well) and I asked him if he knew where Matt was. He din't, but I learned that he has moved again -- from Oakwood apts to Tustin. After I talked with him, Mister Fish materialized and I found out Dennis Green had come by the day before (Mister Green is a friend from Junior High who is now at Orange Coast College), and Fish & I went to see Mary Lyons -- she was stunned to see me, so I gave her a copy of Moira-Quest (Mrs. Lyons is an English teacher who I had in my freshman, sophomore and junior years -- she's also a friend of Ray Bradbury and she's an SF buff).
From The Galleon 1972 Yearbook: English teachers Mary Lyons & Margo Cunningham
We left her and went to the gang on the lawn. Meg ignored me, but she didn't project her beam of suppressed hostility. Saw Mary [Bavry] for the first time in ages, and we have a permanent temporary truce now. Shawna was upset to see me oddly enough -- she showed me a short three-word poem, so I wrote her a shorter one: "The Turbulent Sea" -- MOCEAN. It tickled her fancy. I saw Matt, Dan Huntzinger and Thom Granger, a sleazy lot that's getting a lot sleazier -- Matt's Dad bought him a Datsun. I saw Tim Hourigan for a moment, among another crowd, and Beverly who wanted to kill me even though the grass stains came out. I learned that Tim Hourigan has become a lush. Even he -- All American Boy -- is going downhill. C'est la vie. Tarmland can't survive with a drunk emperor [a reference to Tim's imaginary realm, Ã la Tolkien's Middle Earth].
Student crowd at Newport Harbor High School The Galleon 1972
I was surprisingly witty and charming today -- must be the full moon. A new narc appeared while Matt, Huntzinger, someone else, and I were sitting on the lawn after the bell. He took my name, and I said I was going to P.E. right away. I found out that Matt & Dan are going to court tomorrow because of his & my A.P.B. [All Points Bulletin]. Odd thing as I was "going to P.E.," I ran into Mary on the curb with a hyper-sleazy group (perverts, smokers, heads, etc. -- one was definitely stoned), the sleaziest students warm the curbs of the school all day. The gang eventually vanished, leaving me, Mary, and a girl & her girlfriend -- one of whom I had given 50¢ to when Matt, Dan and Me were on the lawn just after lunch. I found out later it was for acid -- she had a dollar. I knowingly remarked the cheaper it is, the cheaper it is. Mary, Them and I discussed my favorite subject -- ME. I learned a lot. Apparently I have a rather unwholesome reputation, which, of course, is entirely inaccurate, but it does, nevertheless, lend some status to me, enabling me to enter the bizarre ranks of the ultra-liberals -- an interesting and sorry lot. I saw Donald and Terry today -- they've become something of an inseparable couple (couple of what I'm not too sure).
Anyway, the gist of the info I got from Mary about Shawna Wood is that she Woodn't -- not tonight or ever. The name of the girl I gave 50 cents to is Rae Lean (at least that's what she said it was), her friend was Jeannie, or something like that. I went to Sea Schwinn and talked with Dave. He sold the Campi for $120.00. He's taking a class in Marketing in college. Jerry only works on Saturdays -- he's a full-time college kid now. I found out a few more things about Shawna at Schwinn -- so I've got more ammunition. Let's see how good my aim is...
Shawna Wood The Galleon 1972
(9:03 AM - 3/1/1972) Missed by a mile. She really isn't that kind of girl. Why is everyone I know so virtuous? Such incredible luck. Before I went to Shawna's, I noticed Matt Gold walking along the street opposite her house. I stopped, and he and me went to Thom Granger's a couple of houses away. We left there shortly (I stopped at Shawna's at seven to tell her I'd be late -- her sister (friend of Meg) saw me for the first time -- she was surprised) and Matt had to go to a house at Galaxy Street for a rehearsal or something. It took half an hour to find it. Then I went to get Shawna, and I established the fact that she Woodn't. It's hard to figure her out. Left at 9:30, or somewhere around there.
I think I'll banish myself from society -- I don't need friends anyway. I am a universe unto myself. Within a week I'll be alone in the world. Awww, how sad. Big deal. Who cares. Not I, said the little green pig. Disregard this stuff -- I'm drunk. People are not worth anybody's attention. Le'me see -- how many friends (or rather "acquaintances") have I got to get rid of. Well, from High School, there's Shawna Wood, Mary Bavry, "Meg Waldron," Robbin, Paula, Dana & Karen Boucher, Terri Sneathen, "Rae Lean," Beverly, Mary Lyons, Bob Rozelear, Shepard Salusky, Master Fish, Timothy Hourigan, Peter Shergalis, Craig David Harvey, Mike Lingels, Thom Granger, Matt Gold, Dan Huntzinger, James Simms, Bob Bowman, and Stan Eastman. From Sea Schwinn, there's Dave Olson, Darryl Eve, Jerry King, and a guy who's name I forgot just now. 80% of those people wouldn't notice I was missing. The rest would pro'ly idly wonder "What happened to good ole Grady," then they'd promptly forget. That's all.
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