"I'm a full-on capitalist," the young man says, "and although I don't like the message you have on your T-Shirt, I do approve of the fact that you are out here selling them.""Thanks. I'm in business for myself, and this is a good crowd."
Her shirts say: "Republicans Eat Shit."
You decide to join the conversation.
"Hi, I'm Danial, the host for the zone. Where're you'all from?""New Jersey," the young woman answers, "my name is Susan." You shake her hand.
"I'm Christian," the young man says, "from Pennsylvania."
"Uh... is that your name or your religion?"
"Both."
"Ah, and...?" You ask the shirt saleswoman.
"Mary, I came down from L.A."
"Okay. Well, welcome to San Diego, all of you. Thanks for coming to the zone."
WE ALL HAVE AIDS - WE ALL HAVE AIDS UNTIL NO ONE HAS AIDS. THE REPUBLICAN PARTY HAS AIDS. THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY HAS AIDS.
Christian eyes you. "The host, you said? You work for... the police, then?""Ummm... I guess you could say I'm a civilian volunteer working with the police."
"So the cops really are in control of this place?"
"Yes, officially."
"Not the protesters?"
"Ummm... each group has complete control of the stage and microphones for their time period."
"How did they get their times?"
"There was an application period several weeks ago - it was basically first come, first serve."
"Ah. Well. Did they have to pay a fee?"
"No. The city didn't want to limit the protests only to people who could afford to pay."
"Oh. The city. So this place was set up by the City of San Diego?"
"Yes."
"The Mayor?"
"Uh, no, not exactly. The police department, working with the city manager, and the city attorney's office, got together with representatives of several protest groups, and developed the plan for this site."
"Ah. Sounds pretty organized."
"Well, there were a lot of issues to address. Not just the location, but the stage, and security, and power, and phones - see the kiosk over there in the corner? And of course sanitation was an issue - there are a row of portapotties around that other corner."
"Let me ask you this - how did you, Danial, get here?"
"Uh... I've worked for the city manager for almost six years, and I basically volunteered."
"Oh. The city manager?"
"Yeh. With the special events office. In fact, you can partly blame me for you guys even being here. From the beginning I worked with the effort to get the convention for San Diego."
"Oh. Why aren't you over there, across the tracks, then?"
"No, no. This is much more my style. This is where I wanted to work. I am not a Republican - although a lot of my family is."
"Oh."
RELINQUISH YOUR REMOTE AND VOTE! SILENCE EQUALS DEATH!
"So, let me ask you this, Danial, what do you think of these... gays?" "Well, Christian, I, myself, am also a Christian, but of a liberal persuasion.""Oh really, where do you go to church?" Susan interjects.
"Mmm, First Lutheran, downtown here, at Third and Ash Streets."
"So, speaking as a... quote-unquote liberal Christian," the young man continues, "how do you feel about this group?"
"I don't have any problem with homosexuality per se, but... I do object to promiscuity. Sex is a very personal, intimate relation that should only exist between two people who are... devoted to each other."
Young Christian nods his head, points his finger at me in a sign that this is something he agrees with.
Mary T-shirt woman turns to Susan, "So, are you enjoying the convention?"
"Well, yes, I am. But... I tell you... the only harsh thing about the convention is we have to get up around five in the morning and then have meetings like at eleven o'clock at night!"
Mary laughs, even as she holds up a shirt to a couple passing by.
I WANT THE REPUBLICANS TO START HEARING ABOUT AIDS... WE MUST MAKE THIS COUNTRY INTO A TRULY GREAT SOCIETY, AND GUARANTEE PUBLIC HEALTH TO ALL PEOPLE INCLUDING IMMIGRANTS!
"Well, I'm going to go back over to my little tent. Good meeting you all."
Behind you, as you walk, the rally builds toward its conclusion.
WE WILL FIGHT BACK, WE WILL ACT UP!
Something is in the air. A feeling of anticipation hovers behind your back. You reach the sign-in tent. The med techs and a couple cops smile at you. There is one chair waiting for you. Sit down, look back toward the crowd. Under the black sky, the shining stage gleams like a brilliant eye of light.
WE ARE TAKING THIS RALLY RIGHT TO THE FRONT STEP OF THE CONVENTION CENTER. WE ARE GOING TO LEAVE THE CONCENTRATION CAMP TOGETHER, MARCH OUT THE GATE, TURN LEFT, AND MOVE TO THE FRONT STEP OF THE CONVENTION. THE POLICE ARE COOPERATING, SO PLEASE GO CALMLY!
"Is that for real?" You ask one of the officers sitting in the tent."Sure. We let 'em walk up the King Promenade, cross over on First Avenue and stand outside the center's west doors, waving their signs and yelling. Hell, some of those Republicans will come out and yell right back at them. But everything's under control. There's all kinds of officers over there waiting for them."
"Huh. Even horseback patrols, I bet."
"Oh yes. They're very effective. Everyone loves the horses, and respects them."
ACT UP - FIGHT BACK - FIGHT AIDS! ACT UP - FIGHT BACK - FIGHT AIDS! ACT UP - FIGHT BACK - FIGHT AIDS! ACT UP - FIGHT BACK - FIGHT AIDS! ACT UP - FIGHT BACK - FIGHT AIDS!
Led by the speaker on the stage, the crowd takes up the chant. Now they turn, perhaps 300 strong, moving toward the gates at 4th & K, passing through, and bending left. Ah, look, they are walking where you and your son walked this afternoon.
The pillars of lemon and blood balloons go before them. Voices and whistles echo off the surrounding buildings. Helicopters are suddenly clattering overhead, dodging between the condo towers. Under the thumping sky-blades, the chanting of the crowd gradually fades away as the crowd passes into the distance. ACT UP - FIGHT BACK - FIGHT AIDS... Act Up - Fight Back - Fight AIDS... act up fight back fight aids....
And then they are gone. They have moved out from the free speech concentration camp. In the silence, bits of paper rustle under the dark night breeze. Then, strangely, the quiet notes of Kenny G begin to drift down from the loudspeakers. You wonder what is happening up at the other end of the Convention Center. They should be there pretty soon....
Look at your watch. Still twenty minutes of time left in this hour. You are tired. it has been one hell of a long day. One more hour after this one, and two more days of this yet to go.
Several more cops wander into the tent, now that the zone is quiet again. The med techs get up and retreat to their ambulance, to give the cops a couple more chairs to sit. Officers thank them and settle down, two on the chairs, two setting on the edge of the table, two standing in back.
"You got your radio on?""Yeh."
"Good."
Lean your head down on the table. Fall asleep for a moment....
"Tired, Danial?"Lift your head. "Yeh."
"You been here since seven this morning, eh?"
"Yep." Raise your head. Scribble a few lines on this notebook.
"Still writing, too?"
Smile. Nod. Put the pen down. Look out into the darkness, toward the shining, empty stage. Put your head down again. Close your eyes. Begin to drift into a strange state of mind. The cops' belt radio crackles. You hear their voices laughing. You are under a tent on a tropical island with men and women in blue. Torches are burning somewhere in the distance. Dream transmissions and gossip mingle together until you are not sure what is asleep and what is reality and what is a radio message ten-four....
BE ADVISED ACT UP SPLINTER FACTION
ENTERING HORTON PLAZA PRIVATE PARTY
IN FRONT OF PLANET HOLLYWOOD RESTAURANT
THEY'RE YELLING AT CHARLTON HESTON
COVER NOW! COVER NOW! THEY'VE GONE TO RAP!
STAND BY! STAND BY! TEN-FOUR ROGER
BE ADVISED THAT WHEN THE BAND GOES
TO MACARENA WE WILL MOVE IN - STANDING
BY, ROGER, AFFIRMATIVE, THAT'S MACARENA
STANDING BY FOR MACARENA - TEN-FOUR
SARGE YOU WANT TO GO UP THERE - I'VE
GOT MY AMERICAN EXPRESS CARD - SOCIAL
COMMENTARY WILL BEGIN VERY VERY SHORTLY
SECOND AND BROADWAY - STANDING BY - MOVE
IN! MOVE IN! CHARLTON HESTON'S GONE TO
MACARENA! REPEAT HE'S GONE TO MACARENA
Of course, the "Table" of Contents remains available.