Category Archives: Fashion, music, politics, sports

Politics, music, and fashion

[July 15, 1960] Controlled Chaos (The 1960 Democratic Convention)

Democracy is strange, particularly as exercised by the Democratic Party.

Six months ago, it was anyone's guess who might be picked to have the privilege of running for the Presidency of the United States under the Democratic Party banner against Vice President Richard Nixon.  Hopefuls included perennial candidate Adlai Stevenson, fiery liberal senator Hubert Humphrey, affable ex-Air Force chief Stuart Symington, and ruler of the Senate roost Lyndon Johnson.  Oh, and a young, good-looking senator with a Harvard accent and a hidden set of rosary beads named Jack Kennedy.

Each candidate had his planned path to the nomination.  Stevenson, Johnson, and Symington stayed out of the primary fracas, hoping to curry favor at the convention proper.  Kennedy and Humphrey, on the other hand, took their causes directly to the people.  There were actually very few primaries this season, but Kennedy won all the important ones.  After delivering Humphrey a surprise upset in Wisconsin, right next door to Humphrey's native Minnesota, Kennedy went on to a victory in West Virginia, proving that a Catholic can win over the general public.  Humphrey took the loss graciously, bowed out of the race, and went on to stump for his former rival.

The convention was a horse of an entirely different color.  While many of us saw the external glitter of the event, the dancing girls, the cheers, the smoke, the banners, we were not privy to the last-minute back-dealing going on inside the dark corridors of the Los Angeles Biltmore Hotel.  At first, it seemed Adlai Stevenson's star was rising.  Thousands of supporters crammed the hotel (including my new friend Rachel, who went straight from Comic-Con to the Biltmore) and shouted endless chants of "Stevenson!  Stevenson!" 

But we don't live in the Roman Empire, and a mob is insufficient to laurel a leader these days.  Rather, it takes supreme organizational skills and the kind of political connections Kennedy has cultivated over many years.  It was a tense wait as the states pledged their fealty in alphabetical order during the first vote on the 13th, but it was all over when the last on the list, Wyoming, pushed Kennedy over the required 760 delegate limit.  There would be no second ballot, no free-for-all on the convention floor.  The senator from Massachusetts was the clear winner.

Thus, the drama then turned to the speculative choice for Vice-President, that much maligned but occasionally crucial second banana role.  Favored candidates included Symington and Washington senator Henry Jackson.  And yet, the name announced yesterday morning was Lyndon Johnson.

On the face of it, this seems a rational choice.  After all, while the South may be a Democratic stronghold for decades to come, cool and erudite Kennedy seems hardly the fellow to rally their support.  Johnson, on the other hand, is a good ol' boy from Texas, and a master of politics.  If Kennedy wants to change his address to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue come November, picking Johnson is a canny decision.

On the other hand, I can't imagine that the two will work together very well, being so different in nature and background.  Moreover, it's hard to believe that Johnson would give up running the Senate for what is generally considered a lesser position.  This is one of those moments in history that won't be clarified until many years have passed.

Tonight, Kennedy is scheduled to give his acceptance speech.  I've heard the man before, and there's no doubt he will be riveting and poetic.  I'm sure we'll all stay up late tonight to watch him on the television or hear him on the radio.

The Republican convention, starting on the 25th, will not be as outwardly dramatic.  It's a foregone conclusion that Nixon will be nominated, no one else having thrown his hat into the ring.  But there will be turmoil behind the scenes.  Anyone following the news knows that New York governor Nelson Rockefeller has been doing his utmost to influence what gets written into this year's Republican platform.  He may also be angling for the Vice Presidency.  We'll just have to wait and see.

Of course, I haven't forgotten the primary function of this column–to keep you abreast of all the latest science fiction and fantasy in film and print.  Stay tuned for the dope on the August 1960 Galaxy!

[May 29, 1960] The Outside World (Foreign Affairs wrap-up)

It's been a tumultuous month in the world; I'd hate to be in the State Department while Ike makes his goodwill tour across the globe, particularly in the wake of the collapse of the recent four-party Peace Summit in Paris less than two weeks ago.


Courtesy of LIFE Magazine

Unless you live in a cave, you've read about the coup in Turkey, replacing the democratically elected government with a military junta led by Colonel Alparslan Türkeş.  This comes on the heels of (former) Prime Minister Adnan Menderes' attempts to secure a line of credit with the Soviet Union, now that the West's Marshall plan checkbook is running dry.  Türkeş is a far right winger, so I'm sure he's not keen on working with the Communists. 

Perhaps our government is secretly delighting in the turn of events.  The coup may not be great for democracy or Turkey's people, but it will likely keep Turkey firmly in the pro-Western NATO camp for some time to come.

Things are still chaotic in South Korea in the wake of mid-April's revolution that saw the step-down of virtual dictator Syngman Lee and the suicide of his Vice President, Lee Ki-Poong.  It's anyone's guess if the new, democratic, government will survive long.

Cuba's Castro has officially given America the raspberry and is publicly looking to grow ties with the Soviet Union.  This comes as the Cuban dictator nationalizes American economic interests in the island country.  The Monroe Doctrine has been subverted from within, and Communism now has an invitation to America's doorstep.  I imagine Cuba will be a talking point in the run up to this year's election.


Hamaya Hiroshi, photographer

Meanwhile, anti-American protests continue at a fever pitch in Japan against the inking of a mutual defense treaty.  I can only hope they blow over before July, when my family intends to take a trip to that wonderful country to visit friends.

As they say in the business, "All the news that fits, we print."  That's what I've got for today. 

Next up, KGJ will be broadcasting a stack of Galactic Journey recordings.  Stay tuned!

[May 27, 1960] Stalled Flights (Midas 2, Pioneer 5, Ozma, and Eichmann)

There was another mystery Atlas Agena launch from Cape Canaveral on May 24.  My sources tell me it was in the same series as the mission late February that broke up before it could reach orbit.  It appears to be some kind of infrared missile launch detection system.  I even got my hands on some conceptual art, though there's no way of knowing how accurate it is.  Its project name appears to be MIDAS–I'm guessing this stands for "Missile Infrared Detection Alarm System" or something like that.

I don't know if the system works or if the satellite performed properly, but I understand "MIDAS 2" did make it into orbit.  With tensions between American and the U.S.S.R. at an all-time high, thanks to the whole spy plane kerfuffle and the break-down of summit peace talks, we need probes like this more than ever.

In civilian space news, a bit of a setback.  Pioneer 5 switched on its big 150 watt transmitter a few weeks ago so that it could be heard from any point in its orbit around the sun, perhaps more than 100 million miles from Earth.  Unfortunately, the 150 watt transmitter is now off-line due to battery deterioration, and Pioneer has gone back to using its little 5 watt transmitter.  This means its voice will soon be too faint to pick up from the smaller Hawaii dish, and the Big Ear at Jodrell Bank in England will only be able to track the probe to a range of about 25 million miles.  Of course, that's still quite a feat. 

Speaking of Jodrell Bank, remember Dr. Frank Drake's Project Ozma, the program designed to listen for messages from the stars?  Would you believe that positive results were found within the first week of operation? 

It seems that no sooner did the investigating astronomers turn their antenna to the nearby star, Epsilon Eridani, they received an intense signal.  They listened for a few breathless minutes and then turned the antenna away to confirm that the star was indeed the source.  The signal faded as the antenna moved from the star.  Excitedly, they pointed the antenna at Epsilon Eridani again and waited. 

And waited.  Nothing happened.  Was it just a spurious signal?  Had the aliens gone off the air?

Dr. Drake and his team gave Epsilon Eridani and the frequency on which they had received the signal extra attention for the next week, but to no avail.  Then it came back, but not just from the star–from somewhere close by.  The astronomers confirmed this by poking a little antenna out of their observatory window, not focused anywhere in particular.  They picked up the signal there, too.  So, it was probably just a high-flying airplane that they'd picked up.  So much for easy pickings.

On a more personal note, Adolf Eichmann, the notorious Nazi right-hand man for Himmler, in charge of "solving" the Jewish Question, has been apprehended by the Israeli secret service and will stand trial.  He disappeared from Germany as the Third Reich fell, and has presumably been living it up in some Latin American refuge.  I look forward to justice being served.

Finally, a happy birthday to that skinny, outspoken fan and writer, Harlan Ellison.  He is 26 today!

[May 18, 1960] Good and bad news (Twilight Zone and the Summit)

What makes quality television?  No, that's not an oxymoron, despite what anyone might tell you.  Sure, there are plenty of vapid game shows, variety shows, soap operas, situation comedies.  The techniques and technology are primitive–sometimes, it feels as if I'm watching a local junior high troupe in their multi-purpose room.

But there are those occasional gems that stand out, the shows that bridge the gap between the small and large screens.  They feature top notch storytelling, acting, cinematography, and scoring.

I'm talking, of course, about I Love Lucy.

No, I'm not.  I'm talking about The Twilight Zone, as you might have expected since I do a monthly wrap-up after four episodes have gone by.  This latest batch is another good one.  It is a show that has found its feet, that reliably entertains and provokes thought every Friday night.

First up is A Nice Place to Visit, a well-executed if unsurprising tale about an utter wretch of a criminal with no redeeming qualities.  He dies in a police shoot-out and finds himself in what can only be described as paradise.  All the best food, the best drink, the prettiest dames, neverending good fortune at gambling.  But no challenge.  No sense of accomplishment.  No element of risk.  Is it Heaven?  Or the other place? 

While the episode won't leave you guessing, it is fun to watch.  The actor playing the criminal does a fine job, as does the overly genial "butler" who caters to the dead man's every whim… until the very end.

Perhaps the best of the bunch (certainly the most cleverly titled) is Nightmare as a Child.  A young schoolteacher finds herself haunted by a menacing, yet strangely familiar little girl.  The girl seems to know all about the woman, even things the teacher seems to have forgotten, including a dark secret. 

I won't spoil this one at all.  It's nicely creepy, and it goes unexpected places.  It's also fun to watch with a daughter who happens to be the same age as the guest star, and who shares a fondness for hot cocoa.

A Stop at Willoughby is classic Twilight Zone.  A harried, ulcered ad executive has grown weary of his fast-paced world, his materialistic wife, and his hounding boss ("It's a Push Push Push business!  Push Push Push!").  While on his nightly train commute from New York to Connecticut, he drops to sleep and wakes up on a train in 1888, stopped at the idyllic town of Willoughby. 

The most thoughtful bit of this episode involves the mystery of what happens to the exec in the event he decides to get off at Willoughby.  Is it a dream?  A genuine journey? 

Finally, we have the rather unpleasant, The Chaser, in which a desperate young man endeavors to seduce an uninterested young woman with the aid of a love philter.  It's the kind of story that unfailingly disturbs me, as it involves a variety of rape.  It's also a Deal-with-the Devil tale, and one is given the impression that the whole affair was orchestrated by Lucifer-as-storekeeper: from the purchasing of the potion, to the inevitable aftermath where the woman is reduced to cloying adoration, to the ultimate end where the young man will do anything to rid himself of his beloved.

Not badly done; just not my cup of tea.  But what I wouldn't give for a house with that kind of bookshelf set-up!  Oh wait… I do have that house.

By the way, it looks like the expected has come to pass: The four-party Summit in Paris ended catastrophically on the same day it began, May 16, thanks to a grandstanding Mr. Khruschev.  He demanded that we stop overflying Soviet airspace.  Ike agreed to a temporary suspension of flights, but that wasn't good enough, and the Soviet Premier stormed out.  It is pretty clear that this was Khruschev's sole reason for attending, and one wonders just what he would have talked about had we not given him an excuse to torpedo the conference (i.e. one U2 pilot named Gary Powers).

Lest this sound hypocritical (i.e. "We'd have done the same in their shoes"), recall that Ike didn't raise a stink when the Soviets started sending beep-beep satellites over the American continent.  Espionage is part of normal foreign relations.  To sabotage world peace on such a thin thread smacks of diplomatic cynicism, not genuine outrage.

That's just my two cents.

[May 7, 1960] Grab Bag

Here's a bit of a hodgepodge article for the column as I plow through reading material and await the next Space Spectacular:


RCA's Mrs Helen Mann, holder of two degrees in physics, issues instructions to FLAC (Florida Automatic Computer) at Patrick Air Force Base, from where military and civilian (Air Force) space launches originate. From here

Being a statistics nut, I like to track the (completely subjective) quality of my science fiction digests.  For those just joining us, I use the Galactic Star scale, as follows:

5: Phenomenal; I would read again.
4: Good; I would recommend it to others.
3: Fair; I was entertained from beginning to end, but I would not read again or strongly recommend.
2: Poor; I wasted my time but was not actively offended.
1: Abysmal; I want my money back!

For those who like summaries, here is how the Big Three digests did last month (May 1960):

IF: 2 stars; best story: Matchmaker by Charles Fontenay, 3 stars

Astounding: 2.5 stars; best story: Wizard by Laurence Janifer, 3 stars

Fantasy and Science Fiction: 3 stars; best story: The Oldest Soldier, by Fritz Leiber, 4 stars

That's a comparatively bad crop!  On the other hand, I've seen enough slumps to expect that this one won't last.  After all, people have been predicting the death of science fiction for 6 years now…

In other news, something of an ominous development.  Apparently, a U2 high-altitude "spy plane" was shot down over the Soviet Union on May 1.  Premier Khruschev is making a lot of hay about it, but the White House says it was a civilian "weather study" mission under the auspices of NASA.

There's even a picture to go with it:

I hope this doesn't jeopardize the upcoming peace summit.

Happy birthday to Jack Sharkey, who turned 29 yesterday.  Galactic Journey has covered two of his tales to date.

Finally, I am excited to say that this column garnered an honorable mention in no less esteemed a venue than Astounding/Analog!  Rest assured, however, that the accolade will not prevent me from skewering Campbell's magazine when skewering is due.

[April 23, 1960] Unseen Companion (Radio in transition)

Radio—is her heyday waning?  For three decades, she was the Queen of media.  Families gathered around her dials for the latest news, music, and programming.  Listeners closed their eyes and were transported across the globe.  Some programs allowed them to travel across the universe, like the fairly recent X Minus Zero.

Then radio's upstart little sister, television, came upon the scene.  Now moving pictures were something that could be enjoyed in the comfort of one's home.  To be sure, the 20 inch black and white screens don't hold a candle to the panoramic majesty of the movie theater, but for the visually motivated, they provide more entertainment for the minute than the radio experience.

I'm a bit of a radio freak.  I have one in virtually every room.  The big one is this Philco 38R.  It's a bit the worse for wear—it is twenty years old, after all. 

In '56, I bought a brand new Zenith, a beautiful maroon thing. 

What these two radios have in common, despite their disparity in age, are the vacuum tubes that make up the significant part of their innards.  Vacuum tubes have been virtually synonymous with technology for 50 years.  They've gotten smaller over the years, and more sophisticated, but they still take up a lot of space.  Thus, truly portable radios, the kind that might fit in a pocket or purse, have been science fiction.  They also take a good deal of time to warm up.  One has to patiently wait through ten seconds of low hum before the speakers come to life with actual signal.

But, just 12 years ago, a man named Shockley invented the transistor.  It does everything the vacuum tube does, but on a little germanium crystal rather than a big bulb.  The portable radios coming out now are truly tiny.  Their sound quality leaves much to be desired, but one can't have everything.

The timing is good, too.  Dramatic programming has all but vanished from the air waves, probably never to return.  Music is another thing entirely. 45 rpm records have completely replaced the old 78s, and slick disc jockeys are adding personality to musical programs.  And one doesn't need to watch music to enjoy it (though Dick Clark might say otherwise).  Now I can Shout and do The Twist wherever I may be rather than being tied to the home radio or diner jukebox. 

Radio is dead.  Long live radio. 

P.S.

(If only there were some sort of RADIOVAC with tape recordings of all of these programs…)

X Minus Zero
Dimension X
2000 Plus
CBS Radio Workshop
Escape
Exploring Tomorrow
Tales of Tomorrow
World Security Workshop

[April 6, 1960] First Test (Wisconsin Primary results)


Provided by the Journal Sentinel

In an upset that no one saw coming (except every pollster in the nation), Massachusetts Senator Jack Kennedy defeated Michigan Senator Hubert Humphrey in a close Wisconsin primary, April 5.  It took most of the night for the final results to come in, but in the end, Kennedy took six out of the ten delegates the state had to offer.  This provides the handsome, boyish Senator the momentum he needs to compete in West Virginia and Nebraska, his next primaries.

Humphrey, however, seems completely unfazed.  In fact, when I heard him on the radio this morning, he sounded positively victorious.  He asserted that his managing to garner any delegates, given how much time and money Kennedy sank into the primary, made him the moral winner of the contest.  Perhaps Humphrey is just whistling in the dark.  Still, one can't help but like the guy.

Stay tuned tomorrow for a review of a brand new book!




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[Jan. 5, 1960] Perpendicular to Up (4D Man)

What is it that separates schlock from the sublime in a science fiction movie?  To the nondiscriminating, I suppose they all look the same.  The same may go for the discriminating, but for opposite reasons.  I know I have very high standards when it comes to my science fiction.  This is the price I pay for having read so many excellent stories.  Thus, for me the visual medium generally lacks, though there are exceptions.

So why do I keep going out to the drive-in?  Well, occasionally there are good films, and if I know what I'm getting into, I can enjoy a bad film.  Science fiction movies are generally dreadful, so I am well-prepared for the experience. My daughter, though only 10, is a discerning person, herself, so we always have good conversations about films afterward (and during!)

Last week, 4D Man was on the menu.  It was made by the same crew that brought us The Blob.  In brief, it involves a fellow who is convinced that, using the powers of his mind and some field-generating doohickey, he can force solid objects through other solid objects.  He brings it to the attention of his sober, scientist brother, who eventually masters the art.  In the process, the brother becomes a monster, for the application of said art causes rapid aging, and the only way to regain youth is to steal it from others.  He becomes a sort of vampire, and his ability to become insubstantial renders him all but invulnerable.


The trick is to push really hard.

Quite an odd duck, this movie.  For one thing, the sci-fi twist doesn't really get involved until halfway through.  Instead, we are treated to a love triangle between the brothers and the elder brother's colleague/assistant.  I say treated because I actually quite enjoyed this part.  In particular, I was happy to see that the colleague, played by the talented Lee Merriwether, was intelligent and independent.  When the younger brother, whose actor's name escapes me, attempts to nobly decline the lady's attentions in deference to his older sibling, she makes it perfectly clear that she is her own woman, and she chooses who she wants.  She is also, ultimately, the hero of the movie, managing to vanquish the monster rather cleverly. 


Scientists doing Science.


I think The World, The Flesh, and the Devil taught us how to resolve this situation.

There is a lot to enjoy about the movie.  Robert Lansing plays the older brother in a competent, understated manner, and he is a pleasure to watch.  As I mentioned upstream, Lee Merriwether's smart scientist character is a breath of fresh air.  The younger brother's actor is eager, if nothing else.  One might find the incessant jazz soundtrack somewhat off-putting, but I liked it.  The special effects are inexpensive but convincing.  It's in color, which is still uncommon for sci-fi films.


Big brother masters the art of pushing….


…and uses it predictably.


But is it worth the price?

But how was the science, you ask?  Well, it's ludicrous, of course.  The younger brother attempts to attribute the power of matter phase-through to a fourth-dimensional field that acts as an amplifier for the talented mind; hence, the movie's title.

I think it's hogwash.  It's easier to believe that both brothers are mutants, and that the older brother, with his more-disciplined psyche, is able to master the ability.  This hypothesis is strengthened by the fact that Lansing's character is able to phase even without the field generator.

From the reviews, it does not appear that 4D Man will beat out The Blob in popularity or box office.  I attribute this, in part, to the lack of a catchy theme.  It's still a fun 90 minutes if you look at it as a live-action comic book, however, and worth it for Merriwether and Lansing.

By the way, in case you've been under a rock the last few days, Senator Jack Kennedy has tossed his hat into the presidential race for this year.  It is encouraging to think that my chronological peer could run for this nation's highest office.  On the other hand, my political sympathies tend to be more in line with those of Hubert Humphrey and (the yet undeclared) Stuart Symington.  Or Nelson Rockefeller, whose star rose and fell last year.

Just please please don't give us Tricky Dick in November!

Note: If you like this column, consider sharing it by whatever media you frequent most.  I love the company, and I imagine your friends share your excellent taste!

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!



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When the music died (2-03-1959)

The music died yesterday.

When I started reading science fiction back in 1950, we were in what I called a "music blight."  The bouncy swing tunes of the war years had gone overripe.  Schmaltzy ballads and crooning filled the airwaves.  For a while, I didn't even bother to turn the radio on, so sure was I that nothing of note would be playing.

Then, around 1953, I discovered "Black" stations (as opposed to "White" stations).  There was the energy and passion I had been looking for: Negro performers fusing blues and bluegrass and jazz into something that didn't even yet have a name.

But Negro stations aren't that common, and the White stations are stronger out here.  Then, around '55, rock 'n' roll jumped the color tracks and careened into the mainstream.  Bill Haley was the pioneer, and of course Elvis.  Negro luminaries like Chuck Berry followed.  "Oh Mine Papa" was banished to make way for "Maybellene."  It was a renaissance of music, not a little aided by the influx of sounds from south and southeast of the border (Latin, Cubano, Calypso).  Gradually my radio came to be on all the time.

Rockabilly was one of the first and still one of the strongest branches of rock 'n' roll.  Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis, Bill Haley, Roy Orbison… these are all household names.  But perhaps the greatest rockabilly performer of them all was Buddy Holly. 

Holly was versatile, mixing in folkish refrains a la The Everly Brothers with his toe-tapping rockabilly tunes.  "Oh Boy," "Peggy Sue," "Maybe Baby," "It's so Easy," "Every Day" The list goes on for miles, and he'd just gotten started.  Just 22 and newly married, he was set to write the musical landscape of the 1960s.

And now he's gone.

Ritchie Valens (Richard Valenzuela) exploding onto the scene last year with his sizzling rendition of the Mexican traditional song, "La Bamba," and his ballad, "Donna," has sold a million copies.  He was just 17, a high-school drop-out, and had just starred in his first movie.  Valens could have brought a latin touch to rock n' roll just as Presley and Haley had popularized Negro music.

But now he's gone.

24-year-old J. P. Richardson was better known as The Big Bopper.  His novelty rock n' roll song, "Chantilly Lace," was the third-most played record last year.  A disc jockey by trade, he'd taken a break to make it big and tour with Holly and Valens.

All three of them had just entertained a thousand fans at the Surf ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa.  They then got on a chartered Beechcraft Bonanza bound for Fargo, North Dakota for gig last night.  They never made it.  Shortly after take off, the plane crashed killing all aboard (including the 22-year old pilot, Roger Peterson).

Today, my heart is so sick, I can barely type.  I know I'm sharing this emotion with millions of people around the nation, around the world.  I cannot even fathom the blow that has been dealt to music.  This is one of those unforeseeable events that changes the course of history and will always have us pondering "what if?"  and "if only." 

I apologize for the break in schedule.  I just felt it important that I lower the flag of this column to half-mast in honor of the passing of these three musicians. 

Rest assured that my show will go on.  Put "That'll be the Day" on the Victrola, have a good cry, and hang in there.  I'll be back day-after-tomorrow.



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Make Room!  Make Room! (Musings on overpopulation; 10-29-58)

The December 1958 Galaxy came in the mail on the 26th, and I've read about half of it.  Willy Ley's column, on the amazing alien world beneath the surface of the sea, is fascinating stuff.  The third part (of four) of Sheckley's Time Killer is engaging, though not in the same class as most of his short stories.  The short murder mystery, "Number of the Beast," by Fritz Leiber, might have made an interesting novella; as it is, it is too underdeveloped to be interesting.  Too bad.  Fritz is good.

But what inspired this blog was veteran Jack Vance's latest: "Ullward's Retreat."  It is a tale about how a little bit of privacy and living space is a status symbol in an overcrowded world; but, in a society used to being crowded together, too much privacy and living space is undesirable.

Recent figures show that our population is about to hit the 3 billion mark.  Given that we reached 1 billion in 1800 and 2 billion in 1927, it is understandable that a good deal of science fiction depicts an overpopulated future. 

I find it laughable when an author describes shoulder-to-shoulder crowding with a population of (gasp) 7-10 billion!  I recognize that some of our cities are pretty crowded these days, but even tripling the population is not going to squish people together–it will just spread the cities out.  Most of the world is still uninhabited, and I can only guess that science will make more of the world inhabitable.

Vance's Earth, however, has a whopping 50 billion souls on it, and that seems a reasonable strain on space limitations.  The story starts in the spacious apartment of the eponymous Ullward, a wealthy man.  His home comes with a real garden and an honest-to-goodness oak tree.  His guests are suitably impressed: their homes are tiny cubicles with doors that exit right onto the commuter slidewalks.  To overcome claustrophobia, walls are replaced with image panes that display scenery to convey a convincing illusion of greater space.

Interestingly enough, in Ullward's Retreat, whole planets are available to colonize with relative ease.  Ullward leases a continent and invites his friends to visit.  They quickly tire of the vast vistas and the pervasive loneliness.  They pine to investigate the "good parts" of the world, which are rendered off-limits by the planet's owner.  Ultimately, Ullward forgoes his enormous estate and returns to his comparatively (to his peers, not to us) extravagant abode, which has proven, despite its smaller scope, much more impressive to Ullward's friends.  The people in Ullward's Retreat appreciate their little privileges, but big privileges are overwhelming, incomprensible, even invalidating.  It's the difference between having a 1 karat diamond ring and a 50 karat hunk of diamond in your closet — one is impressive and socially desirable, the other is an odd curiosity.

Vance's story is a trivial one and not to be taken especially seriously.  I did like some points, however.  For one, it depicts an overcrowded future as not dystopian, simply different.  Anyone who has been to Japan (before or after the war) has seen a society far more used to crowding than ours.  They don't seem to mind it.  They just make do with smaller gardens and narrower houses, adapt with greater politeness and cultural rigidity.  In fact, after spending time in Japan, you'll often marvel at (and even be a little disgusted by) the tremendous, inefficient sprawl that characterizes our cities.

I also like that the ability to colonize does not reduce the population pressure on mother Earth.  Columbus and Cabot finding America did not make Europe any less populated.  It just led to the Americas being more populated (after the colonists did some regrettable depopulation of the natives, of course).  Moreover, in a world where people are happier in close quarters with their neighbors, it makes sense that the colonizing spirit would be correspondingly lower. 

Was it a good story?  Is it worth 35 cents?  Sort of, and, probably not.  Nevertheless, it did provoke thought, and can you put a price on that?

Stay tuned.  I'll have more on this month's Galaxy in a day or two!

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