Five dollars plus expenses bought a prank phone call from Martha Mitchell to the victim of your choice. ("Did you know the CIA is investigating you?" she asked one startled Montana resident.) Ms. Editor Gloria Steinem turned taxi-dancer for one $65 song; off to the side, Washington Post Watergate Reporters Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward sold phony spy disguises. In the kissing booth, Veteran Socialite Barbara Howar demonstrated her wares to Washington Post Executive Editor Benjamin Bradlee. The occasion: the second annual Counter Gridiron dinner, held to raise money for a journalists' legal-defense fund and the hackles of Washington's venerable, mostly male Gridiron Club. While Treasury Secretary William Simon and Economic Adviser Alan Greenspan dueled with water guns, dart throwers popped balloons attached to the pictures of Presidential Hopefuls Ronald Reagan, Mo Udall, Scoop Jackson and others. ("That's for people who are doing the primaries," said Candidate Gene McCarthy loftily.) One of the evening's biggest attractions proved to be the door prize — a cassette tape recording of ex-President Nixon's last speeches.
"Ironically, I never use a baton," mused Maestro Jose Serebrier, who had gone to Mexico City as guest conductor for an Easter music festival. "I decided to use one for this performance because I thought it would help achieve greater musical control." Alas, it was manual control that was lacking when Serebrier stabbed himself through the hand in the midst of his appassionato performance. While blood splattered his white shirt, the wounded conductor went right on directing the 150-member chorus and brass-percussion ensemble in Mexican Composer Rodolfo Halffter's Proclamation for a Poor Easter. "I managed to get a handkerchief out of my pocket during a brief pause in the music," said Serebrier. "I stuffed it into my hand and made a fist and continued that way for another 20 minutes until the finale." After tetanus shots and a night's rest, he promised to fulfill the rest of his engagements, "but without a baton."
"I want my kids to be athletic," explained Rock Promoter Bill Graham. "I want to give an introverted kid the chance to play the tuba or be in the debating club or be a tackle." So to keep an impoverished San Francisco school system from canceling this year's athletic program for lack of money, Graham staged one of the biggest rock concerts since the glory years of Haight-Ashbury. Along with Varsity Stars Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, The Grateful Dead, Neil Young and Santana, even Marlon Brando showed up at Kezar Stadium to plead for contributions. Last week, just before the musicale got under way, however, Bay Area newspapers disclosed that the board of education had suddenly uncovered $2.1 million in extra funds. Graham called the concert his "finest hour," temporarily placed $300,000 in proceeds into a nonprofit corporation bank account, and demanded an explanation by the educators. Groused Graham: "Obviously there is a lack of administrative ability with the school district personnel."