I knew a lot of people during my years at Penn State and State College, far too many to remember all their names, alas.

Those were the days long before cell phones and texting, so there was no easy way to keep in touch with folks, and for the great mass of those I knew then neither they nor I made any effort to stay in touch. So while I can picture many of their faces, I have long since forgotten most of their names.

One of the great things about meeting so many diverse kids my age was that I did finally encounter some who shared some of my interests. To wit, my love of science fiction.

Back in Elco High School there had only really been Leonard Yingst who was as devoted to the science fiction genre as I was. A few others would read an occasional sf book, but Leonard and I were both members of the Science Fiction Book Club.

But we weren’t in the same class, so we didn’t get to see each other all that often. In my second year at Penn State, Leonard arrived as a freshman, but he was in another dorm halfway across campus, so once again, we only saw each other occasionally.

Meanwhile, and I can’t be sure if this was my second or third year, but it was during my stay at Mifflin Hall, there was a fellow who was as fond of science fiction as I was. Actually there there was more than one, but it was this guy in particular and while I can picture his face, I can’t recall his name. So I’m going to call him William, as he looks sort of like a William in my mind’s eye.

Penn State had lots of extra-curricular organizations, and one of them happened to be the Science Fiction Society of Penn State. Actually I don’t know if that was its name but it may as well have been. (I see that there is currently such a society at Penn State but as it only dates from 2016, it is presumably not the same one as existed circa 1969.)

Will and I got wind of the SF Society, and we saw that Professor Philip Klass was its faculty advisor so we decided to attend a meeting. Philip Klass was better known in science fiction circles under his pen name William Tenn as the author of dozens of top notch mostly satirical stories. (NB: Philip Klass has appeared on this blog previously as having given Isaac Asimov the worst, meaning the funniest, introduction of his speaking career.)

The meeting started off swimmingly when, after being called to order by the presumed president of the society, Professor Klass was presented with a copy of the August 1957 edition of Galaxy Magazine, which contained his short story “Time Waits for Winthrop”. Professor Klass greatly appreciated them tracking down that used magazine as he didn’t have a copy of it in his collection and he was very thankful.

Alas, things went downhill from there.

The rest of the meeting was basically an open discussion of whatever the members wanted to discuss, and boy did they want to discuss stuff. The only trouble was— 

Have you ever been in a class where the discussion was dominated by one person who believed he (or she) was the smartest person in the room and insisted on putting down in the most highfalutin’ language anyone who had the temerity to disagree with any of his (or her) opinions? (I add the parenthetical female pronouns but in my experience these specimens have always been of the male persuasion.)

Now imagine a room full of these “smartest persons in the room” jerks, each one trying to top everyone else with just how smart he was, each one putting down everyone else who disagreed with him, usually in very rude terms. Oh, yes, at this particular meeting they were all males.

Were they discussing topics that were suggested by some of the stories, say, such as was Asimov’s psychohistory a valid speculation or the nature of free will in the Foundation Trilogy or was a galactic empire of the kind that Asimov described even possible? Or perhaps Heinlein’s definition of love, his concept of a Fair Witness, or his vision of a future world government in Stranger in a Strange Land? I would have at least enjoyed that sort of discussion.

Nope. They were arguing over abstruse things like the symbolism of the planet Trantor in Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy or the deeper meaning of tattoos in Heinlein’s Stranger novel. (I’m just making those up as examples, but those are the sorts of things they were bandying about.)

As I’m re-reading through Asimov’s autobiographies, he mentions that the first time he ever felt at home with a group of people was when he first went to a science fiction society meeting. That was most definitely not the experience for Will and myself.

I’m not sure, but I think Professor Klass left the meeting shortly after he received his gift. Smart move on his part.

When the seemingly interminable meeting finally concluded and Will and I were walking back to Mifflin Hall, Will turned to me, disappointed that we had not found yet more kindred spirits at the society meeting, and said, “I just like the stories.” 

“Same here, Will. Same here.”