In case you didn’t read it or need to refresh your memory, here’s a link to the first half.
Now then, where did I leave off? Oh, right: We’re at the 1969 Westercon, which was held July 3-6, 1969 at the Miramar Hotel in Santa Monica and Forrest J Ackerman has just arrived with a box. Mr. Ackerman is a revered-by-many figure among fans of horror movies and science-fiction. He lays claim, in fact, to the dubious achievement of being the first person to refer to science-fiction as “sci-fi.” If he hadn’t done that in the 1930s, no one else would ever in a million years have thought of that.
He has many achievements to his name as an agent for sci-fi writers, as an authority on the genre, as the editor of Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine and many more. At the time of this story, his most recent achievement was to write the lead story introducing the title character in the black-and-white-inside magazine, Vampirella. Because of that, he claims that he is the creator of said character. It is a claim that will be made by others but we won’t adjudicate that here.
And what he has in that box are a whole lot of advance copies of that first, not-yet-on-sale issue of Vampirella. He parks himself at a table and begins selling them. The cover price is fifty cents but since these are advance copies and he will be autographing them, the price is a buck. Several convention attendees, including my friend George, fork over that buck to purchase them.
George is a guy with whom I attended high school so he’s about the age I was in 1969 — seventeen. He’s a nice guy and a good friend but he is one of the cheapest human beings on this or any other planet. Eat with George at a restaurant and you could finish your meal and then die of malnutrition waiting for him to kick in his half of the check. I’m only exaggerating a little. Once, I paid the whole thing saying, “I’ll get this. I have other places to be this year!”
He initially balks at purchasing one of the you-can’t-buy-this-anywhere-else magazines Mr. Ackerman is hawking. A dollar for a magazine that says “50¢” right on the cover? That’s, like, double the real price! To George, that’s akin to someone shoving a loaded pistol in your ribs and demanding your wallet. But he is persuaded by F.J.A. who points out that they’re autographed. That surely has some added value, right? Furthermore, he adds, you won’t be able to purchase a copy anywhere else for a month or so. That last selling point will be disputed. Ackerman will later swear on a stack of Famous Monsters he said “a week or two.”
But George will swear on whatever he swears on that Ackerman said “a month or so.” So George decides the inflated selling price is probably justified. He pays the dollar, Forry signs one to him, George takes it home, George reads it, George decides it is the shittiest thing he’s ever read in his life. He even calls me to complain…like that will do a lot of good.
One of the problems I have in my life is people calling me to complain about things I can’t do a damned thing about. Often, in recent years, it’s about the price of gas. They think I’m the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries or something. I tell George the same thing I will tell all those who later mistake me for OPEC: “I sympathize but I am powerless in this matter. Go call somebody else!”
I don’t know for sure that George calls anyone else but knowing him, he probably calls everyone else. I do know that he spends many days grumbling about getting ripped-off, being “coerced” (his word) into paying double the cover price for a magazine he thinks is very, very not good. But I can’t do anything about it and he can’t do anything about it until…
…until July 15 of that year. That is when copies of Vampirella #1 go on sale at newsstands all across the U.S. of A.
George purchased his on or around July 4. July 15 is not, by any definition known to man, “a month or so” later. He decides he has been the victim of misrepresentation or false advertising or being fibbed-to or something and that he has a solid case to demand a refund. And of course, since I have absolutely nothing to do with any of this, he calls me. I think he thinks that if he can convince me he was wrong, Ackerman has to give him his money back.
Now, I was not a huge fan of Mr. Ackerman. He was nice to me. I was nice to him but I found him a little creepy and discomforting. I know there are people reading this who loved the man…who may even say that he and Famous Monsters inspired them to become filmmakers or artists or writers or something in that category. Fine. Here’s a photo him with two friends of mine dressed as Vamiprella…
The Vampirella on the left is Angelique Trouvere, who I haven’t seen in years. The Vampirella on the right is Brinke Stevens, who I haven’t seen in about a week. It was a mark of how popular the character was that so many ladies — not just these two — cosplayed as her long before the word “cosplay” was invented.
One thing about Forry Ackerman: He was very accessible. His phone number was in the book and given freely. Just about anyone could call him and if you did, you’d get a “leave your message at the sound of the beep” announcement. Those were very rare in those days. And there was a good chance he’d be listening in on the message you left and would jump on the call if you sounded even halfway sane and sincere.
You could talk to him. You could even get an invitation to visit “The Ackermansion,” which is what he called his home. It was quite a place, filled as it was with every science-fiction book he ever came across and every bit of monster movie memorabilia he could amass. A veritable museum. I got the tour a few times but…I dunno…he and it always seemed a little creepy (there’s that word again) to me and not in a good way.
But back to our story…
George phones Forry, gets him on the line, explains that he was lied-to; that he paid a dollar for a fifty-cent magazine on the assurance that it would not be on sale for “a month or so.” And here it is, two weeks later and any old schmuck can get a copy.
Mr. Ackerman insists he said “a week or two.” He also says something like, “Yes, but any old schmuck can’t buy it with my autograph.” There is a brief colloquy concerning the monetary value of that autograph. It ends with Ackerman suggesting George place the magazine into a specific orifice and hangs up.
George is furious. He does not take Ackerman’s advice. Instead, he jumps in his car, drives to the Ackermansion with the magazine and pounds on the door. When Ackerman answers, George identifies himself. Forry says, “I had a hunch it was you” and he has a dollar ready. Forry takes the magazine. George takes the dollar and departs, proud of himself for not allowing himself to be cheated.
Ten or twenty years later, I’m talking with a friend of mine, Bill Warren, a writer who sometimes worked as an aide to Mr. Ackerman. I tell him the story and it turns out he already knows it from Forry’s side. He tells me that Forry kept the returned magazine in some special place and waited a few years for the Ackermansion to have a visitor named George. When one came by, Forry sold him the already-autographed-to-George copy for ten or twenty bucks. So Forry was happy.
George was too until a few years ago and yes, we’re still in touch 50+ years later. Jubilant was he at his refund until he read something online. It said somewhere that a copy of Vampirella #1 — signed by Forrest J Ackerman to “George” — just sold for $2,100. The George this whole story has been about called me up to complain and to tell me, “I knew that somehow, in some way, that man was going to cheat me!”
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