Dramatization of Chamber of Commerce Protest and Lunch
The weather was very cold Thursday when Winston, Seth, Reggie and I arrived outside the Lincoln Square restaurant in downtown Urbana, picket signs in hand. I held a sign reading “Chamber of Commerce discriminates against gays, socialists.” Seth and Reggie held similar signs, while Winston held a sign reading “Why wasn't Dave Rosen invited?”
As businessmen passed by, I stood there shivering and extending a hand. "Hi, I'm Dave Rosen running as the Socialist Workers Party candidate for mayor of Urbana." A few of them shook hands, but the vast majority pushed forward at a fast clip.
One gentleman, whose dark hair was thinning at the top, took my hand and shook it firmly. "Hi, I'm Manny Singer, running as the Democratic candidate for mayor of Urbana.” He laughed, good-naturedly. “I guess we will be seeing a lot of each other." I checked out my opponent. He looked like Paul Simon with a little Art Garfunkel thrown in. He was protected from the cold by a ratty overcoat and brown scarf. To me he looked more like the math department’s Professor Singer than a political candidate.
"Nice to meet you," I replied, already liking the man.
Seth Heller yelled out. "Why wasn't Dave Rosen invited to this lunch?"
"All ideas must be heard," echoed Winston.
Manny appeared flustered. Winston and Seth knew that Manny wasn’t the one who sent out the invitations. On the other hand, maybe he influenced the decision.
Winston repeated "All ideas must be heard," and soon it became a chant, with Seth and Reggie joining in. Something about what we were doing bothered me, but I joined in anyway.
"I'll see what I can do," said Manny, who turned and continued into the restaurant.
When he had disappeared through the door, I turned to Winston. "Do you think he'll succeed and get me an invitation?"
"He's your opponent," said Winston. “Manny probably had you excluded in the first place.”
"Who knows?” I replied. “Still, he seems like a nice guy."
"I'm sure he is a nice guy," replied Winston. "That's not the point. You are in this campaign to promote the ideas of the Socialist Workers Party. Those ideas are completely contrary to what Manny Singer represents. Should he manage to procure an invitation for you, it is only because he seeks to bring you into the fold, to adopt you as a prodigal son."
"I am also in this campaign to promote the ideas of gay liberation," I reminded Winston. "Our enemies are not nice guys. They shoot at us, call us child molesters, arrest us, condemn us to hell, and fire us. It’s because the government of the United States supports these people that it must be overthrown. As you are aware, not every good person understands what we do about the U.S. government. Six months ago I didn’t understand. So reason with these people like you did with me. Don't assume Singer had any say in my not getting an invitation."
"Singer is a Democrat," returned Winston; "The same Democratic party that brought us George McGovern and Dan Walker. Two of your favorite people." He smiled, showing yellowed teeth. "You can be damn sure that Manny Singer was out there working hard for both of them this past fall."
Seth was a basket of rage. "Comrade," he shouted at me. "You are behaving like a slimy opportunist, trying to get chummy, chummy, with dear Manny."
"I'm not getting chummy," I shot back. "We need to hold Singer accountable for any incorrect positions. But that does not mean blaming him for all the sins of the world. We need to be firm, but polite. Let's not be like the Maoists and call anybody who disagrees with us, on any issue, 'fascist pigs'."
"Nobody's saying you shouldn't be polite," said Winston, as the four of us noticed a large businessman with curly blond hair coming from the restaurant. The man was dressed in a well-tailored suit.
"Are you Dave Rosen?" he asked, looking directly at me.
"Yes. I'm the Socialist Workers Party candidate for Mayor of Urbana," I said as we shook hands.
"I'm Harry Greenfield from the Chamber of Commerce. We want to apologize for the mix-up and hope you will join us now for the candidate luncheon."
I grinned, looking back at Winston and gave a thumbs-up. Reggie returned the gesture, but Winston just nodded and Seth scowled. Then, I followed Harry into the restaurant.
The dining room was warm with tables decked in white linen. I was directed to the table at front on a stage, where the other two candidates and various officials with the Chamber of Commerce were facing the audience, and seated next to Republican candidate Ethel Doughty.
Ethel looked over at me, and we exchanged greetings. She was wearing light colored pastels, despite the weather. Her gray hair, smiling face and self-effacing demeanor made her seem more the hostess of a family Thanksgiving gathering than a mayoral candidate.
Now it seems peculiar to have such thoughts, but at the time I felt an overwhelming despair. Why? Since Ethel was a Republican, I worried I might have to kill her in the coming revolution and seriously hoped Winston was wrong and gay liberation could be achieved under capitalism. How could I kill Ethel Doughty? It would be like killing my own grandmother.
The ambiance of the place reminded me of the movies. That took my mind off the possibility of offing poor Ethel. Waiters filled my glass with sparkling water, brought me a salad with tasty French dressing, sautéed chicken breast with green beans and chocolate cake for dessert. I knew it would be hard to stomach the reheated spaghetti that night.
Halfway through the lunch, Greenfield introduced Manny Singer as the first speaker. With his coat off, I could see that Manny was wearing a vintage brown suit with a red bow tie. He got up, unconsciously flipping through note cards with his thumb while speaking slowly and clearly. I was pleasantly surprised, when a few minutes into his speech. Manny spoke of the need for a gay rights ordinance in Urbana. As he did, he looked over at me and nodded. I remembered Winston and Seth’s admonitions but was overjoyed he brought up the ordinance anyway.
When Ethel Doughty got up to speak, she subtly brushed away crumbs from her pink and green floral dress, and then quickly walked to the microphone. She did not mention gay rights. Her speech was low-keyed and she looked very relieved when it was over. When Ethel sat down, she looked at me with an expression that seemed to say, "Do you think I did OK?" I nodded and she looking pleased.
I was on enough Valium to remain calm when I got up to speak. I reiterated those parts of the party platform that I felt would least offend small businessmen: Black control of the black community which would bring the crime rate down, improve self-pride, workmanship and the business climate in general; gay rights likewise would improve self-pride, workmanship and the business climate. I spoke on how town coffers were being seriously depleted by the imperialist war and how this resulted in stagflation. There was polite applause and I was pleased, but even more grateful that Winston was not present to hear what I had to say.
When I left the lunch, my three fellow protestors had left. For this, I was also grateful, since Manny had his hand on my shoulder and was telling me how important the radical left was in keeping the Democrats on their toes.
