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Just this barracks, huh? Jan. G. Harry Stine, a rocket engineer who had been working at While Sands until S (for Sputnik)-Day, when he voiced his opinion of the U.S. space program (Fat, dumb, and happy, was part of it), was rather more optimistic. He said 1967 for a man in orbit, 1970 for a manned space station. "Yes, a joke," said Paul. "When I was a freshman in law school. Harvey Jayne and those others were teasing Dad. That was when Dad was still Director of the Research Division, before they promoted him." July 10—My landlady Mrs Flynn is very worried about me. She says the way I lay around all day and dont do anything I remind her of her son before she threw him out of the house. She said she doesnt like loafers. If Im sick its one thing, but if Im a loafer thats another thing and she wont have it. I told her I think flu sick. As for me;Well, I guess youre right, Steve. I should have gone to B.C.N.Y. instead of Berkeley. A slovenly dressed man came in—ankle socks, ill-fitting kilt, and turtleneck. He had a full, untrimmed, black beard. Whats the ruckus in here? he asked. As he sat in the drift of sand by the doorway that evening, he noticed a light shining through the palms far into the distance around the atoll. Confusing this with the image of his wife and son, and visualizing them waiting for him at some warm hearth among the dunes, Traven set off toward the light. Within a hundred yards he lost his sense of direction. He blundered about for several hours on the edges of the landing strip, and succeeded only in cutting his foot on a broken Coca-Cola bottle in the sand. "It might be pretty bad for the ones who had to stay inside," I told him. "I mean after a while." The child stood there looking at the piece of meat that I was holding over the fire on the end of a bent curtain rod. Christ Almighty. You men all right? Suddenly I thought of Havelock Ellis again in his area of greatest popularity. It is enough only to ask? When Joe Clock finally reached the head of the line, the girl there gave him a sheaf of papers and a pencil.Take any seat at one of the tables and fill these out, please, she said. Which one? A slice-of-novel, appropriate to the moment, from Kurt Vonneguts God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater (Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1965):.
