Bland wears a bright blue fishing hat with the brim rolled up all the way around. He carries a Daily News under his arm and smiles broadly as he lectures on the topic of the day.
"Now I'm a Kennedy man myself, been with the Kennedy boys for a while, but this open convention business is serious and separate from that." Bland relishes a good smile:" (The delegates) they're like this, see (crosses his arms in front of him) handcuffed." He doesn't listen to the suggestion that the push to free delegates stinks of hypocrisy, that the same people who assailed Carter as a tyrannical slave merchant originally backed the reform which gave more power to the primary voter, that if Kennedy were the probable choice, this debate would not have surfaced.
"Let's not talk in 'maybes.' All I know is that in the time between the last primary and the convention, the nominee can be thrown in jail on a rape charge, and we couldn't do nothing about it...The delegate is elected to use someone else's power. The power has been dele-gated, right? Well, how can they use that power if they are chained?" (Crosses his arms again.)
Even more important to Bland than the Democratic wheeling and dealing is the future of the Black Community as a political force. He wears an orange button identifying him as a member of the United Urban Party ("We are the Balance of Power"). He explains: "It's a small group based here in New York which is committed to unifying the Black peoples into a singular, powerful voice to demand improvement in places like the South Bronx. We've heard all the promises. We need action." Her refuses to be more specific about the size or activity of his organization, adding only that, "we are the descendants of slaves who think it is time to unburden ourselves and get something done."
Al Harrow is more definite about his political affiliations. Sitting behind a portable bridge table on the corner of Seventh and 33rd, he conducts an independent voter survey "in cooperation with Edward Bennet Williams and his committee." Sure enough, there is a sign propped up on the side of Harrow's table which depict a man bellowing, "Call for an Open Convention. "Harrow is quick to add that he is not formally employed by Williams. The neatly dressed old man will take his poll--which actually does not mention open convention, but merely asks which candidate the respondent would like to see on the Democratic ticket--to the open convention folks "to do with as they like. I'm just trying to help out."
A friend approaches Harrow Dragging a two-wheeled shopping cart and prodding, "Look, there are more people down at 32nd. Here you get a hundred. That's peanuts. Down there you get a thousand in no time."
Harrow smiles from behind his horn-rimmed sunglasses. "I know," he says, but I'm comfortable here." A1 Harrow knows deep down that he is sitting in the hot sun in his olive green suit and hound's tooth the to have something to do. But no one is laughing out loud at him, and he is having a fine time playing Lou Harris for the afternoon.
"My poll show Kennedy with a big lead. Obviously, people who see my sign and come over will most likely be Kennedy people...Myself? I'm really for an open convention, and I think a Muskie/Jackson ticket would be the strongest... You can see that people don't want Carter. People are damned angry. Look at Miami and Chatanooga. The poor and the minorities want someone they can hang their hat on. They would be happy with a Muskie/Jackson ticket."
"What is this a poll for?" asks a woman with a small girl dangling from her arm.
"Oh it's just a little something I'm working up, madam," says Harrow with a shy smile. She marks a check under Kennedy's name, and Harrow thanks her. Some people are very glad the convention is in town, even if it's only a temporary distraction