by Robert Bloch

Science-Fiction Five-Yearly has appeared promptly on schedule every
lustrum --a word that is the Latin equivalent for that period of time, as
well as a description of two of Bob Tucker' s hobbies.

Having been represented (and sometimes misrepresented) in every issue
for the past forty years, I' m beginning to run our of topics. And therein
lies the rub, as Shakespeare once said when pointing to a massage parlor.

Almost fifty years ago I had occasion to visit with a now-forgotten
comedian named Lou Holtz. He had starred on Broadway, appeared in
several films, made a reputation both as a guest and as the star of his own
radio show, and was presently top-billed in a revue called PRIORITIES OF
1942. He could point to a quarter-century of celebrity and success as a
dialect comedian and was to enjoy another decade of popularity until his
voluntary retirement. In the course of our conversation, I asked him about
the sources of his material.

In response he summoned his dresser, who was a mute, and asked him
for " the book. " The dresser nodded and pulled a small black notebook from
his jacket-pocket, handing it to Mr. Holtz.

The comic held up the little black notebook and nodded.

" Here it is, " he said. " My material. "

" For this show? " I asked.

" For all my shows, " Holtz responded. " Including the radio programs,
the revues, the night club acts. Over the years I' ve used maybe fifty, sixty
stories. What more do I need?

None, apparently. Give or take a few updated topical references,
ÂI' m sure the same holds true for performers like George Burns, who has
annually vegetated in Vegas with a standard stand-up act for close to thirty
years. And touring one-nighters like George Carlin, who plays the trendy
college-campus circuit, probably tote around the same stock of laughing-
stock wherever they go.

Unfortunately, writers can' t get away with this: their reputation is
damaged by repetition. Hence my problem --now that I' m running out of
Tucker gags, I run the risk of appearing Tuckered-out.

And, unfortunately, I don' t have a little black notebook --though,
strange as it may seem, I could probably remember most of the Sam
Lapidus stories and Maharajah routines that Holtz had written down. The
trouble is that no one wants to hear this kind of " racial" comedy in this
enlightened era of Sam Kinison and Andrew Dice Clay.

But all is not lost. Surely there is a new crop of young fans equipped
to comment on the present state of affairs, and they shouldn' t have any
particular problem doing so, because science fiction is funnier than ever.

I may not remain a regular contributor to Science-Fiction Five-Yearly in
the future, but I certainly look forward to enjoying it as a reader during the
next forty years.

Come to think of it, Moses took forty years to get the Israelites out of
the wilderness. Of course, h e had God' s help. It is in that spirit I voice a
pious wish -- God help Science-Fiction Five-Yearly!

(illo: Shelby Vick: Puffin Pfantasies: dreams)

Data entry by Judy Bemis
Hard copy provided by Geri Sullivan

Data entry by Judy Bemis

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