Club News: Other Papers

[page 3] Aug. 21-23 Monmouth Mini-Summit Well, we did hold it, after all--as advertised even! Resolutions? Arguments? Root beer champions? Unfortunately, we had fun. It was one informal party from the start. The next Triplanetary will have (had) a description of one bout. Present were Faramir (Doug Cross), Brandock Daha (Tom Cook, Jr.), Firiel and escort Isambold Took (Kit Roe and Clyde Leigh), Imrahil and escort Tinuviel (Bill Oswald and MarynWalters @Maryn Walters@), Ann Tonsor and escort Hildifons Took (herself and me). Also, appearing every once and awhile were Beorthelm (Mike Eliot), and the Brittanica Encyclopedia (Phil Helms). We went swimming at Warren Lake, had a feast (dinner) there and toured the lake in Daha's fleet (a dilapidated row boat). We witnessed the death of Phil Goddard and drank 11 gallons of root beer. Also exhibited were "Hoo Hah" battle cry contests. Thus nothing was actually done except for the decision that Helms was dead. (Last two pages typed by Bill Manspeaker, hired help on the large payroll of publisher, editor, et all, Hildifons Took). Our club will not fall apart—at least--not because of any of the members who met. We really began to become better friends than letters could make. All too soon it was Friday. Final pictures were snapped, Imrahil and Isembolld cheered "Yar, Boo, Sucks!" and Daha asked "Who's 'Yarboo'?" Ann and I (H.T.) left. Afterwards Faramir consolidated the M.T.E.S. and the Triplanetary. Some work was done and he, too, departed. All included had a great time (I'm sure we did, anyhoo). The three days were over pretty quick but as Mark Twain once said: "Guesta @Guests@ and fish being to smell after three days." It was not completely done for Ann Tonsor and myself. We journeyed, by trains, to Crystal Lake where we waited until 2 a.m. for Smaug (Gary Gygax) to take us to Lake Geneva for the Geneva Wargamers Convention. With three hours of sleep, Smaug, Ann, and your friendly hobbit awoke the next morning (with the help of a little stimulant, root beer) and met pippin. The Conversation was interesting and we met some new possible members. One was writing a book and believed the Earth to be hollow (no comments about his skull). Pippin and root beer made the whole thing, actually, as watching wargamers roll about the main hall floor does not provide new entertainment for a complete day. Honestly, grown men sprawled about on the floor with toy ships, tape measures, paper arrows and dice (usually aimed at opponents) to decide sea battles by dice. Cries of "*@#@#&, I missed" pierced the air and the donuts were excellent. Thanks to Mr. & Mrs. Gygax who made the convention possible. Also--we thank Mr. R. Paul of "The Hobbit Hole" for a ride to the train stations. Most important we thank the Chicago police for protecting HHH. He's the Republicans' only hope!!!