|A Science Fiction Fanzine||Summer 2004|
I accompanied Quinn to the Oakland airport to retrieve Harlan and his girlfriend and convey them to the Claremont Hotel, site of the conference. I remember bumping Ellison's portable typewriter into a wall. "Hey," he said, "you trying to ruin my career?"
Quinn took Harlan and his lady to her place, where, with some disgust, he scanned a fanzine, eventually quoting one of its lines to the SFWA. And now I get to tell an Ellison anecdote ...
So we reached the Claremont and piled out and went in - Harlan in his L.A./Carnaby Street best, the lady six feet of blonde class and beauty, and
the squalid hippy wretch that was GHLIII, toting a bag. As we were crossing the lobby a hotel flack ran up and grabbed Ellison by the arm. "Where are you playing?" he demanded.