Beyond the floodlights, the slanting floor of the Concord Hotel's coliseum-sized nightclub rose into astonishing distance. The S.R.O. audience, 3,000 strong, was swaddled in mutation mink and choked with pearls; star-sapphire pinkie rings glinted whenever their silk-suited owners shot their cuffs. Even "Uncle Miltie'' Berle was impressed. Onstage last week, he bared the bright new caps on his teeth, leered at the enormous room, and delivered a typically backhanded Broadway compliment: "You think this is something? Next year they're going to build an indoor mountain."
Next year the Concord's Owner Arthur Winarick may...