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Apparently, as part of my taking over the local science fiction club
I was to also serve as a dumping ground for club related material,
collected over the years, which the original core members no longer
wanted to store. Fortunately it was only a couple boxes worth, at
first, and it was fun digging through the material: Old flyers,
Organizational paperwork, Records of sold items from events, and
Various pieces of graphic artwork. When I asked one of the core members
where they got the artwork from, she mentioned that most new artists
are desperate to have their work seen and will often send it to you
for free if you ask. ''Be sure to send them a copy of the final
flyer or newsletter you use them in as a courtesy,'' she added.
Sorting through the box I made a list of all of the artist names I
discovered. I could find addresses for a handful in the paperwork
and for a few others that I heard lived somewhere in town, I simply
cracked open the phone book to get addresses for the found names.
For those I had the known address for, I sent off a query letter
asking if they'd like to contribute artwork for the renewed club
to use. For those out of the phone book, I added the opening
that I was looking for an artist by the same name as yours, if you
are them or know where they live... These letters sent off at
the start of the year, within two months packets of black on white
artwork arrived, some photocopies, some the original ink on tissue
paper, which we were expected to mail back once done with, and
then a sad addition as one artist had died in the past year and his
wife was thrilled that someone was still interested in his work and
hoped we could find a use for it.
The club had been sending out a two page newsletter each month
printed up by the member who had his own photocopier. That was
one way to pick your editor, I guessed. As the one mailing-off
the flyers it was deemed he could collect any mail the club received
at its post office box while he was at it, and thus he quickly became
the club's treasurer as well since he was the first one with the
membership checks in hand. While he was willing to continue to be
the editor, he no longer wanted to be in charge of the money. I went
to his house to see his set-up and discuss his ideas for continuing
and perhaps enhancing the monthly newsletter. He showed me recent
copies that were effectively typewriter written meeting dates, some
new jokes he had heard between issues, and the list of the core
members of the group helped to fill up the remaining blank space.
The same list of names issue after issue each month. He really
didn't think the newsletter needed all that much changing except,
perhaps, for a different color paper.
I then asked how many copies were sent out each month and the number
was around a hundred and fifty. I was surprised by how many members
there were given that I'd only ever seen about twenty at most
at the meetings. He explained to me that the majority of the copies
were complimentary ones sent to all the other science
fiction & fantasy organizations in the country to let them know
that we were still here and what we were up to. Then to be safe,
he'd print an extra twenty or so copies for spares in case people
wrote in asking for back issues. Did that happen often? Not
much during the three years he'd been editor, but you never knew...
All he was asking for was to be reimbursed for all of the issues and
copies he'd printed up in the past two and a half years. What do
you mean? He had been printing all of the newsletters out of his
own pocket since taking over knowing that he would be reimbursed
later. I was impressed by his deep pockets as that was not something
I could have afforded to do. Still, he was the treasurer as well,
why hadn't he been reimbursing himself from time to time? He
hadn't had the chance to get to the club's bank since being signed-up
as the treasurer there. If he hadn't been to the bank during the
past two and a half years, what had he been doing with the membership
checks? He reached over to a high shelf and pulled off an old
coffee can and showed me the checks collected within.
He handed the can to me and I stared into depths struggling to keep a
straight face while I fought to discover those perfect words that
would not be taken as an offense: ''Huh. I – ah –
had been under the impression that checks were no longer good if not
cashed within a certain time frame. Like – ah – a year or
so...?''
He gave me a blank look back, clearly unaware of this and answered
nervously, ''Really?''
I offered that I might not know what I was talking about but, as he
had to sign me up to the account at the bank anyhow, we could ask
once we got there.
When we arrived we got in line for a teller and then upon reaching
her with coffee can in hand, she looked through the checks and noted
that it was actually six months that a check would have to be cashed,
after which it wouldn't be accepted by the bank. When asking her
what options we had with the rest, she guessed writing the people who
had originally sent the checks and asking for fresh ones. Of the
coffee can full, less than twenty percent were within the current six
months and could still be cashed. This left the club with a balance
less than The Doctor Who Report had in the bank, yet with
supposedly more members to serve even if you didn't count the
complimentary copies. We quietly made our way to the membership desk
where my name was added to the account and his removed. I don't know
if the manager had already heard through the staff grapevine or if it
was a coincidence, but she offered us a deposit bag that could be
conveniently used to drop off checks to be cashed at a drive through
slot with no other action needing to be taken. I thanked her and we
left.
Back at his home he brought up that he still wanted to be reimbursed
for the past two and a half years worth of newsletters he'd been
creating and sending out. I simply told him that I couldn't see
how as the club didn't have enough money for the current mailing
list, and as we found out how much money the club had lost over the
years... I let him put two & two together as to how the
club had lost that money and who had been the treasurer at the time.
I felt his lack of reimbursement was a minimum penalty for his
mistake, though I didn't come out and say it. I hoped he
would just figure it out for himself.
But he needed to have some pride and told me that, then, we
couldn't use his copier anymore. Looking over the pile of streaky,
faded copies of the club's newsletter surrounding us, I told him I
understood. When it was time for me to leave, he wanted me to
take the boxes and boxes full of spare copies of the club newsletter
created for those possibly wanting back issues. I told him he could
keep them and I'd let him know if anyone wrote the club asking for
some. I accepted the post office box key and the copies of the
mailing list from him and left.
Thinking things over on my own, I decided to keep the money situation
to myself as I didn't see how spreading it around to the club members
would help anybody. From the mailing list, I wrote a letter to the
members who had been on the list for only the past two years and not
sent in a recent check and asked if they'd be willing to mail in
replacement checks and to let them know the club was under new
management. The vast majority of them never responded and I crossed
off their names. One guy actually did respond with a scathing letter
about how he had been relieved when his check wasn't cashed given the
'piece of crap' newsletter he'd been receiving in the mail. As he'd
taken the time to respond, I kept him on the
mailing list for another six months hoping the new club mailings
would win him over.
They didn't.
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