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The Agony of Inactivity
by L. Verle Heljeson
Some years ago former member Dora Hepner Moitoret (resigned 1962) wrote in her journal Ollapodrida, of an “extraordinary member” who had been given various NAPA offices, although inactive in writing and publishing. Since, in another context, Time magazine translated the Spanish/Mexican term ollapodrida as meaning not only a stew – but a rotten stew – the lady’s dyspeptic comments are understandable. However, her observations are not the first or the last of the comments which are made about the members who aren’t active in the constitutional sense and who, it might be said, are conspicuously “actively inactive.”
Others have pontificated on this subject. In Weaker Moments No. 154 Ralph Babcock says: “Oftentimes I’m flabbergasted at people spending $20 to $50 each year on hotels, plus as much or more on train or plane fares, to attend NAPA conventions – who seem to abstain almost religiously from any effort at real a.j. activity.” Again, in WM No. 170: “Election (or appointment) of just good fellows like Bob Dunlap or Al Lee who show up for our clambakes and do nothing else is worse than a waste.”
These pronouncements lead to a review of the activity requirements in the NAPA constitution. In summary, they require some form of writing or printing during the twelve months preceding an election, as a requisite to voting or holding office; and, once elected or appointed to an office, publishing or contributing to an amateur journal at least quarterly. This troika of specifics is perpetuated in the new VAMoitoret/WKeffer constitution.
These requirements are sound in concept, asinine in application. The National’s founding fathers undoubtedly had logical – if not practical – reasons for writing these mandates into the constitution. Probably they envisioned a recurrent spate of journals flowing through private mailings or to the bundles, from individuals aware enough to want an annual vote, enthusiastic enough to write or publish whatever time they had left after performing the duties of an office. Broadly, it was an attempt to insure, through enforced activity, a continuous, seminal influence in the association. Specifically, it was an unfortunate attempt to legislate creativity.
The constitutional provision that a member must meet certain activity requirements before accepting office is the one most often flouted. This begins most often in the spring when – although the association has no formalized nominating procedure – names of possible candidates for elective office are mentioned in the amateur press. As Sally O’Rear has observed, the APC often nominates in its News, individuals not qualifying activitywise, either overlooking (or winking at) the activity requirement. Then the proxy voters, looking for any name in the wilderness, pick it up and the member is elected. Additionally, newly-elected presidents, anxious to fill cabinet positions (to use a recent Notman term), recruit appointees in the proximity of conventions, and don’t bother about the individual’s credentials.
There are good reasons for all of this, of course. In today’s arid political climate it is difficult to persuade anyone to run for elective office or to accept appointive one. When one is found willing to make the extreme sacrifice, he is picked up quickly by the voters or by the executive, without cross-examination as to his past actions or future intentions.
The activity required prior to voting is enforceable through the screening process to which both proxy ballots and floor votes are subjected at the convention, but only in the negative sense of denying franchise. Activity requirements are minimum, yet they have just enough teeth in them to deny the member the right to vote if he doesn’t have qualifying activity. On the other hand, when some notebook-carrying, pencil-waving member chirps from the floor that she is certain that member Eda Channer Groats of Puddlefork, Wyoming, published 300 words of poetry in Mountainette, a mimeographed journal, the convention usually votes to accept the ballot. When, on the basis of such instant information, the convention disregards the recorder’s report and the constitutional intention that activity be established and documented prior to the convention, the essential policing function of the proxy committee is nullified.
The third requirement – that of contributing to or publishing an amateur journal at least quarterly, while holding office – is the one most often breached and the one most controversial. Our law givers probably thought that a member interested enough to become an officer automatically would exhibit joy and dedication by quarterly or more frequent activity. They overlooked the fact – well known to anyone who has held office – that the mental and physical demands of office usually preclude any other activity.
This requirement often is diluted by the compromises which amateur journalists too often are willing to make or condone. The chairman, bureau of critics usually is excused on the basis of his quarterly contribution to the official organ. The official editor, after all, has little time (or money) left after he publishes The National Amateur four times a year. The mailer publishes a little sheet monthly, listing new members, address changes, bundle deadlines. Thus, any president can rationalize, office by office, until he comes, perhaps to a hapless executive judge whose inactivity is showing. Even then, if the judge has participated in a decision published in The National Amateur, he might claim that this was his activity for that quarter.
The constitution says that the failure of an officer to meet the activity requirement constitutes reason for removal “at the discretion of the president.” J. Rolfe Castleman, when president in 1963, used this discretionary authority for summary removal of two executive judges. More recently, Thomas B. Whitbread, an executive of sophistication and intelligence, did not. Furthermore, he said in advance and in print, that he would not use this provision against his officers.
The chief indictment of the activity requirements is that they emphasize quantitative minimums (300 words of prose or poetry, 1000 hand-set words or “at least quarterly”) instead of qualitative (creative) maximums. Neither in these requirement nor in the definition of an amateur paper in the revised constitution, is there any attempt to establish standards of achievement or of depth. Under the current definition, a journal need only be titled, dated and/or numbered to qualify it for the bundle and for activity. This means that printers can send out pages of cuts or typefaces under the guise of a journal. It doesn’t even preclude titling, dating and numbering a Christmas card or a calendar and circulating it in the bundle.
There are other perversions of the activity requirement. In March, 1961, a number of proposed constitutional amendments were printed in The National Amateur, including one using the term “convention parliamentarian.” Two members not noted for consistent publishing hurried into the bundles, Thomas B. Whitbread with a hastily printed Locus, Helm Spink with a hastily mimeographed Constitutionalist. Each of these carried highly emotional, somewhat erratic appeals to the voters. Each publisher decried the use of the term “convention parliamentarian,” completely discounting the fact that the constitution authorizes the president to appoint “additional officers” with the consent of the executive judges, and that at least two presidents had appointed convention parliamentarians. This type of axe-grinding is activity in the strict sense, but it is doubtful that the constitution’s drafters intended that mere propaganda would so qualify.
Our constitutional activity requirements also put a premium on regularity of activity. This is logical in wanting to encourage a consistent flow of journals, but impractical in the NAPA in which activity and interest ebb and flow. For example, one individual was active both in publishing and in convention attendance in his teens. Then, getting established professionally and domestically, and military service, interrupted both publishing and convention attendance. In the intervening years he paid his dues, read the bundles and private mailings, but, he said with some bitterness in a private conversation, “I still couldn’t vote.” Even J. Rolfe Castleman, now in his third year of tenure as executive judge (and tax expert) returned in a frenzy of activity after just such a period of somnolence. These facts of life should be recognized and accepted.
The member who isn’t active in the constitutional sense is involved in an agony of discrimination. Compared to him, the Untouchables of India are members of an affluent and privileged society. In replying to a correspondent who took exception to his views on those who only attend conventions, Ralph Babcock wrote: “Quite possibly the x and x and x who attend conventions (at some expense) but do nothing else may be contributing something to a.j. in the fashion of landscape or bodies in the balcony. But alas! The trees seem to be overshadowing the prime object of a.j. which is to write, edit, print and publish – be it trivia x x x or material of substance.” (Not again the equating, as in the constitution, of quantity against quality.) Roy Lindberg once proposed (though probably with big tongue in cheek) that only members who met activity requirements be permitted to attend conventions.
It is surprising, therefore, that members who have not produced a four-page quickee of cuts, typefaces, recipes or reprints, are not required to utter the ancient warning cry of lepers as they approach the convention.
That the definition and practice of activity has bothered some of our good thinkers, however, is evident in this quotation from a September 1963 letter from Edward H. Cole to Helm Spink: “I am perplexed about requirements of activity for voting and holding office. We had examples at Cleveland of members who cared sufficiently to spend money to attend the convention and who very evidently have a real interest in the association, yet who could not vote for lack of activity. A number of persons who have written me have suggested that any person who pays five dollars’ dues ought to be allowed to share fully in electing officers and voting at conventions.”
Year after year the administrative history of the NAPA shows that there is a wide divergence between the definitions and rigidities of the constitutional text on activity, and their actual application and results. It is time to say – as almost all organizations do – that a dues-paying member should be admitted to the polling place without having to stand in line for some sort of literacy test. It is time to stop frightening away members who might make good officers by pre-election activity requirements or by threats of post-election reprisals. It is time to become a mature organization, free from the fetters of the founders and turned toward a future of the great reality.
In Years Gone By it was a common political maneuver to “buy” an election by suddenly recruiting the necessary number of votes at $2 each. This was the basis for establishing a measure of activity for voting eligibility. Since then dues have escalated to the present $5 level, which makes “vote buying” an expensive and unlikely campaign expense. Couldn’t we now change the activity clause? It would release an officer from silly word-counting to something more productive. I’d like to see a relaxation of the activity requirements for a specified time period just to record its effect. Perhaps we shall suggest a little constitutional tinkering – Harold Segal
The Most for Your Type Money
by Dwight E. Agner
When, as with most hobby printers, money for buying type must be surreptitiously siphoned from an already-depleted household budget, the intelligent use of this small sum becomes very important. Your choices are ones that you are likely to live with for a long time.
Most important (and most permanent) is the selection of a body type. Two things need to be considered – the face and the sources from which it can be obtained. The selection of the face itself is largely a matter of personal taste, which I have no intention of dictating. But I would strongly suggest a roman (serif) body type. Not that sans-serifs can’t be effective; but they lack much of the flexibility of romans. And since most of us are limited to one or two major faces, adaptability to a wide range of uses is certainly an important consideration.
There are those who would say that a private press should use only an oldstyle face, but this is an unnecessary restriction. A modern face might be a poor choice if you intend to use mostly textured or antique papers, because the moderns are intended for smooth or coated papers. But there are many excellent transitional faces (such as this Baskerville) which print well on almost any paper, and yet avoid the dated look which is hard to get away from with an oldstyle face.
Try to select a typeface which strikes a happy medium between the dull and nondescript (Century Schoolbook) and the eccentric (Bernhard Modern); but if in doubt, I would lean toward the nondescript. Such faces tend to make rather lifeless pages, which may tempt you toward flamboyant display for emphasis. But again because of the need for flexibility in a single face, they are preferable to the eccentric styles. The latter tend to set a style of their own, which might be perfect for some jobs but entirely wrong for others.
Regarding the sources: if you intend to do the quality of printing which requires that broken and worn letters be removed and discarded, then I suspect that ATF’s foundry type will prove as cheap or cheaper in the long run (and far less exasperating) than a Monotype-cast product. The sad fact is, however, that ATF’s selection of suitable body types has dwindled drastically over the past 20-25 years, and finding one to suit you from this limited selection may prove impossible. If so, then a face from one of the hard-metal Monotype foundries may be the answer, and in most cases you have the advantage of being able to buy sorts at a reasonable price. If your finances are not so stringent, you may prefer to go to a foreign foundry (most of which are represented in the U.S. by either Amsterdam Continental or Bauer). Quality would be equal to ATF, but of course the price is even higher.
A final consideration should be the range of related faces and accessories available. Example: ATF’s Whitehall might be a likely choice from the transitional group – but consider the fact that it lacks even a matching italic, as well as a bold face or small caps. Compare this to Garamond, which has small caps, matching italic, bold and bold italic.
Turning to display types, it is proper that the first emphasis should be on faces related to the body type (larger sizes, italics, bold, initials), as these again will allow the most flexibility in design. This is not to say you should never go outside this group. There are many good display faces, not related to any specific body face, which need not be removed from consideration. But try to see how frequently you might utilize the face; and, conversely, how often you could use it before it became monotonous and incapable of further variation.
Of utmost importance in choosing a display type is its durability as a design. As a rule of thumb, I would not recommend any face which has been in existence less than five years, or any face which is having a sudden “revival” in advertising typography. Advertising favorites have a habit of dying just as suddenly as they appear; and when they do they are very, very dead. (Witness Futura or Venus.) Even if it is a perfectly good typeface, it will give your work a dated look which will be hard to overcome. As a general classification, sans-serifs have long since proven their durability and can make useful display types along with romans. They still, however, probably require even more care in their selection than the romans.
In buying display type related to your body face, it is generally helpful to have more than one size of a given face. This is not as important with non-related faces, for two reasons. First, in using a matching display face, the effect depends much on the size and weight relationship between display and body; with a non-related face, the effect depends more on simple contrast. Second, related faces will often call for two or more levels of display using different sizes; with a contrasting face more than one level could be too much icing, and sublevels of display would be better set in a face related to the body.
As to the source of display type, it matters little. You are much less likely to wear out a font of display type than one of a body face; and considering the cost of foundry type, a Monotype-cast product is undoubtedly your best buy. Of course, in many instances the face you want will be available only from one source, and you must take it or leave it. But sometimes it will be possible to make a reasonable substitution, if not an exact match. The only faces which particularly need to be foundry type are connecting scripts and those with kerns or hairlines.
Buying Body Type, for most hobby printers, is comparable to getting married. Your selection must be carefully made, for you’ll have to live with it for a long time. We welcome former NAPA member Dwight Agner’s advice. Now employed as a typographer for a Pittsburgh advertising agency, the former publisher of Quote has established The Press of the Night Owl and recently issued an attractive bound volume of poetry.
Campane is published in the interest of organized amateur journalism and the National Amateur Press Association by co-editors Hazel and Harold Segal, Margo Gardens, Bristol, Pa. 19007. Articles discussing associational problems, critiques or recollections and research in the history of the hobby are constantly sought and welcomed by the editors.