A TALE OF TWO TABLES : At Live Aid, Charity Ended Right Next Door

TO: EDITOR

FROM: DENNIS McDOUGAL

RE: LIVE AID EXPENSE ACCOUNT

First, thanks for sending me to Philadelphia. This is one grateful reporter, I tell you. Live Aid was a once-in-a-lifetime gig. And knowing that it was all for charity, well, I don’t think there was a reporter there who didn’t feel glowy about it all.

But that also makes it kind of tough to explain these items you’ve asked about on the Assignment & Trip Expense Report, Form 91-471 1-84.

You’ve got a point: $496.40 to rent a card table and a phone might seem a bit excessive, even for a charity event. As the receipt indicates, the Spectrum (that combination sports arena-concert hall next door to JFK Stadium) opened its exclusive private club to the media on Live Aid day.

I didn’t know quite what to expect when they asked for a $250 cashier’s check (it took a bit of convincing, but they finally settled for cash), but every other news agency was renting what is called “press space” from the Spectrum.

Well, I went over to the Spectrum the day before the concert and found that $250 bought me 24-hour use of two 3-foot-square card tables and a folding chair! My tables were between Newsday and a Philadelphia radio station. (I figure the $5,000 or so they grossed in table rentals should keep the Flyers hip deep in pucks.)

I was pretty darn proud when I saw a strip of notebook paper labeled “Los Angeles Times” taped to the edge of those tables.

A table and chair is nothing to sneer at when you know that 100,000 rock fans are going to be just a few hundred feet away the next day, scratching each other’s eyes out just to retain a few precious inches of JFK turf for 14 straight hours of anti-famine rock. Still, there were a couple of things missing.

Like a telephone.

“Oh, that’s extra,” explained Susan Bank, the gracious Spectrum lady who sold me the table. Several reporters who bought tables had been asking about phones, too, and she put them in touch with a fellow named Jay Tomlinson at Bell of Pennsylvania.

He’d have the lines in in a jiffy.

I got to my press space before dawn Saturday, set up my typewriter and looked around for my phone--but the darned thing wasn’t there! I called Jay, but it turns out he’d left town for the weekend.

I managed to track down a swell installation supervisor who assured me that an installer was on his way.

Meantime, Susan was serving up breakfast to the press corps at no extra charge. Fritos, Cheetos, Doritos, peanuts and an assortment of iced soft drinks. I spent too much time dallying over my typewriter, I guess, because by the time I got through the buffet, all the Cheez Whiz was gone. I had to eat my chips dry.

The concert began at 9 that morning, right on schedule, and I didn’t think I could wait around the press area much longer, so I headed on out for interviews. Susan told me she’d keep an eye out for the installer.

I got back about noon, but still no phone. Susan told me the installer had been there. I found that a phone hookup had indeed been strung in and taped down right next to my “Los Angeles Times” ID strip--but there was no telephone to go with it.

A few of the other reporters had their own plug-in phones with their own outlets, but my installer forgot to leave me one. He just slapped in my outlet, grabbed a handful of Fritos and raced on to his next assignment.

I worked out a deal with a guy from one of the Detroit papers to let me plug his phone in my outlet when he wasn’t calling home.

I was kind of set back on my heels by the phone bill, too. Tomlinson told me it might run as high as $75, maybe even $100, because it was a rush order and all. But I agree with you that $246.40 for one phone line without a phone for one day does appear extreme.

But only $236.97 went to Pennsylvania Bell. The remaining $9.43 went to AT&T; for putting through my long-distance calls.

Somebody may have made a few dollars, but that’s what overhead is all about, isn’t it?

But I have to feel pretty good knowing that at least $9.43 of our money went to AT&T;, which was one of the four underwriters of Live Aid. It’s like making a direct donation to the cause.

SINCERELY,

DENNIS