Let Us Entertain You

By Alessandra Stanley

Kansas City's civic leaders could hardly contain their excitement. They escorted their unsuspecting guests to the Bartle Hall convention complex, which had most recently been host to the National Water Well Association, paused, then dramatically parted a thin blue curtain. Behind it, a Democratic Convention was in boisterous progress.

Wearing campaign boaters and waving state-delegation signs, nearly 2,000 local volunteers hollered and whooped. Red, white and blue balloons dropped from the ceiling as a band played Happy Days Are Here Again. On the giant podium, a Harry Truman impersonator gave a rousing speech nominating Kansas City as the location for the 1988 Democratic Convention. One member of the site-selection committee dabbed her eyes. "This is amazing," a stunned Democratic Party Chairman Paul Kirk quietly told his beaming hosts, "I've never seen anything like it."

Kansas City's mock convention was one of the more elaborate displays of civic boosterism in the rivalry to win the right to play host to the Democrats in 1988, but other eager cities have been working hard to upstage it. A Democratic Convention can bring at least 30,000 people and more than $25 million to a city -- plus priceless prestige and publicity. Until late this month, when the winner will be selected, Atlanta, Kansas City, Houston, New Orleans, Washington and New York City will be polishing themselves to theme- park perfection.

The Republicans are busily scouting for a site of their own. But their no- nonsense 21-person team has already narrowed the list to Atlanta, New Orleans and Kansas City. (The Republicans will announce their choice first, and the city they select will be obliged to withdraw its offer to the Democrats.) With spouses and party hangers-on, the Democratic delegation often swells to considerably more than 100. Deficit-ridden New Orleans had to ask the Democrats to delay their visit because it could not scrape together the funds to provide the necessary lavish entertainment for the Democratic horde. "Twenty Republicans came down and got their work done," groused a New Orleans official. "The Democrats want to send down 120 people and party for three days."

Small wonder. Inspecting convention sites is the most popular perk in Democratic politics. Limousines pick up committee members at the airport. Sirens wailing, police motorcades escort them from location to location, local traffic be jammed. Sometimes the visit turns into a kind of Main Street Club Med: giddy committee members rode a riverboat up the Potomac, sipped champagne on an antique-locomotive ride to the Truman Library in Independence, Mo., and donned balloon hats and leis to feast on pork and lobster at a Texas luau.

The airfare, hotel rooms, sumptuous meals and gifts (everything from barbecue sauce to bathrobes) are provided by the host community. In addition, the finalists are expected to raise a total of nearly $1 million for the Democratic National Committee (D.N.C.) war chest before the winning city is picked. The victor will be encouraged to raise at least another $1 million when the convention takes place. City leaders ruefully refer to the donations as "ransom money."

Atlanta, Houston and New Orleans probably have an inside track because the party would like to renew its old ties with the South. Atlanta pitched itself as the birthplace of the "New South," mixing a ride on the city's modern subway with mint juleps, barbecue and country music in an antebellum mansion at Stone Mountain. Atlanta turned Native Son Jimmy Carter, not the most popular figure in the Democratic Party, into an asset. The highlight of the trip turned out to be a VIP tour of the Carter Presidential Center, after which the former President treated the committee to a quiche-and-grits brunch.

Nouveau-poor Houston had to persuade wary committee members that it still has plenty of money. Although its new convention hall is not yet completed, Developer Joe Russo offered to take out a $5 million policy with Lloyd's of London payable to the D.N.C. if the hall is not finished on time. The city also promised to arrange a Leonard Bernstein benefit concert for the convention, but members seemed just as impressed with another cultural landmark -- they kept buses and motorcades waiting half an hour while they shopped at Neiman-Marcus.

Kansas City boosters countered the cosmopolitan claims of the competition by stressing the advantages of the more tranquil Midwest. Over cocktails at a Mission Hills mansion, Mark Russell, a Kansas City developer, genially assured Democrats, "We don't have race riots here, we don't have crazies, and all our cabdrivers speak English."

The longest shots are Washington and New York City. Mayor Marion Barry's argument that the party and the press could save $9 million by staying home in the nation's capital left most people cold. New York was host to both the 1976 and 1980 conventions, but boasts experience and last summer's Liberty Weekend as proof that it is possible for visitors to get through four days in Gotham without getting insulted, mugged or worse.

New Orleans had been an early favorite. It has a wealth of new hotels stretching from the Superdome to the French Quarter, a redeveloped riverfront, and is seen by many as the best place to party. But its request for a delay may have hurt its chances. "If they can't get it together for one lousy little weekend," complained one committee member, "how are they going to pull off a convention?" The rival cities couldn't have been more pleased.