UNCONVENTIONAL THINKING

Watching the preparations for this year's Democratic Convention in Chicago, I am taken back to the famous one that occurred exactly 56 years ago--1968.  I was there and I enjoyed a particularly advantageous view of these tumultuous proceedings--for two reasons.  First I was attached in a minor way to the rump George McGovern campaign.  This gave me a floor pass to the Convention proceedings and I was there on Tuesday, the most significant day of the proceedings, standing close enough to Mayor Richard Daley to him clearly call Sen. Abe Ribicoff of Connecticut a "Kike."  No one ever accused Daley of classiness--or lack of bigotry.

Second, I was also able, thanks to my friendship with Esquireeditor John Berendt, to spend some fascinating time with the various important figures John had cleverly arranged to send to Chicago to cover the Convention.  At dinner in a flossy near-Northside restaurant on the evening before the Convention opened, I had the remarkable opportunity to join John and his carefully-selected correspondents--Terry Southern, William Burroughs (who has been accurately described as closely resembling a "Kansas City Butter & Egg Man"), Jean Genet (insert circumflex) and Richard Seaver of Grove Press, who interpreted for M. Genet.  Norman Mailer was also in town, but otherwise occupied.

At one point, apropos of nothing, Terry Southern shouted "Viet Nam, hot damn!" to the startled restaurant goers.  We later repaired to a diner, one filled with Chicago police, where--per Mr. Seaver--Genet expressed his fascination with the "les cuisses" of various Chicago policemen.  He also stated his aesthetic appreciation of the blue and white helmets of the Chicago cops.  This gave me the inspiration (and the courage) to swipe one of those helmets hanging near the exit, hotfoot it out the door and present it to Genet.  (In various writings, Genet expressed his erotic fascination with both the police and criminals; what happened to this memorable souvenir piece of headgear I of course have no idea.)

We then sat in a grotty office overlooking the Chicago El with Democratic activist Dave Dellinger, hearing him expound on the Viet Nam War, the evils of LBJ and other issues.  I later repaired to the lovely Chicago apartment belonging to my absent Aunt Rosalie and Uncle Bob, which gave me a bird's-eye view of the cops bashing the heads of the long-haired protestors in Lincoln Park.  (I then impulsively offered refuge for the night to several bloodied combatants, which horrified my Aunt and Uncle, when they returned unexpectedly early from a trip to his fishing camp on the Central American island on Roatan.)

I have had, for most of my life, the remarkable good fortune--aided by my innate pushiness--to be in interesting places at critical moments with some extraordinary people.  Those days are long past for me now, but my acute recollections have left me with a multitude of rich remembrances.

Roger