A student with long hair and a mustache introduces McCarthy, then sits back down on the floor. Well, McCarthy drawls, he's here to talk about 1972, but first he wants to say a few words about 1968.

What he gives is basically the same When-we-started-in-the snows-of-New-Hampshire-they-said-we-were-crazy-but-we-showed-them speech that reporters covering him in 1968 learned by heart.

The issues he raised in the campaign, McCarthy says, were heretical then but are accepted now. Even House minority leader Gerald Ford, he notes, wants to see J. Edgar Hoover retire. "But when Gerry Ford is just three years behind you," McCarthy says, "you know you weren't really ahead of your time." The Candidate earns his first laugh on that one.

He finishes talking, removes his jacket, and asks for questions. The student on the floor calls on someone in the back who wants to know why he should work for McCarthy instead of another candidate.

McCarthy talks of the unique stands he is taking, saying something about making corporations more responsible by forcing them to hire minorities and invest part of their capital in real estate.

"What about capital gains tax?" the student asks.

"It's a minor concept in terms of the overall picture," says McCarthy.

And it begins to dawn on those in the room that something is terribly wrong here. In 1968, McCarthy's issues were gutsy--life and death stuff. But who's going to go Clean for Gene over real estate subsidies? And noble as the thought may be, can you base a Presidential campaign on increasing minority employment? Vietnam is fast becoming a non-issue, and McCarthy is floundering.

"Do you have any specific proposals?" the beautiful girl at his feet asks.

"Well, equal rights for women. How about that?"

He gets a laugh, but it's cheaply won. That's Bob Hope material.

"What about day care centers?" asks the girl.

"That's all right," the Candidate replies.

He seems tired, ambiguous, disinterested--only half believing what he is saying. He's said it all before and knows that everyone in the room has heard it all before. McCarthy plays with his handkerchief or sweater when talking, not looking questioners in the eye.

"Politics is like coaching football," he once said. "You have to be smart enough to understand the game and dumb enough to think it's important." McCarthy seems to have gotten a lot smarter on the second count since his last crusade.