The Tip That Every Dishwasher Wants

Pearl diving, they called it in the old days, and you did it when you had to, because it beat going hungry.

It’s still pretty far down on the list of Things You’d Rather Do, but dish washing is still an essential occupation and, needless to say, no disgrace at all. Consider the alternative. Trouble is, not too many people take it seriously, or even civilly, and the man or woman in the back room of the restaurant gets nary a nod, let alone a tip.

Gene Buck, ex-pearl diver turned publicist, took up the cause a year ago, forming an ad-hoc organization called Brotherhood for the Respect, Elevation and Advancement of Dishwashers (BREAD).

Now he’s going after the Establishment.

In view of the “high visibility of politicians who attend banquets and lawn parties,” Buck has fired off memos to city leaders, congressmen, senators, governors (including Deukmejian) and Presidents (including Reagan), asking them to “bring to the attention of those in attendance at such affairs the tipping of the dishwasher.”

“Our desire,” Buck said, “is that Americans and Canadians lead the way for the world. That they cast their bread upon the soapy waters.”

A Stamp Act

Philatelists, they call themselves, and they are made, not born. Time was, too, that every kid in America had a stamp collection. Decades later, they became the internationally recognized champions of Trivial Pursuit, having learned that Sverige is Sweden to the Swedes, that bitterroot is the state flower of Montana and that nine ngultrums will buy a buck in Bhutan. It was a hobby perhaps less lucrative than hanging out in the pool hall, but a lot more educational.

And one that’s languishing, Benny Gardner said. “I’m out of work, can’t draw unemployment, can’t get on-the-job-training program and can’t get on welfare,” Gardner writes from Henderson, Tenn., “but one thing I can do is help young kids develop a worthwhile hobby--and I hope that somewhere in Los Angeles there is a publication that will print my cry for help, free of charge. . . .”

There is. Us.

What Gardner requests is that rather than discarding stamped envelopes, one tear off the stamps and send them to him to forward to the Ben Franklin Stamp Clubs. Gardner’s address is P.O. Box 8, Henderson, Tenn. 38340.

“It’s fun,” Gardner said, “and the kids will learn any number of things, not only about America but about the countries of the world. Besides, it’ll keep them off the streets”--and, presumably, spare ‘em a good licking.

Three Writers Uninvited

Three of the most influential modern writers were not invited to this week’s international writers’ conference in New York because no one thought they would attend, organizers said.

The 48th International PEN Congress meeting, touted as the largest and most prestigious gathering of literary luminaries ever in American history, did not invite Soviet dissident writer Alexander Solzhenitsyn, playwright Samuel Beckett and novelist J. D. Salinger because, according to PEN Congress spokeswoman Pamela Pearce, “We know that they are all so reclusive.”

Delegates included more tham 700 interpreters and writers--poets, novelists, essayists--from more than 35 countries.

Solzhenitsyn, who livees in Cavendish, Vt., initially made public appearances after his exile to the West in 1974. The author of “The Gulag Archipelago” went into seclusiion shortly after delivering a scathing speech at Harvard University in 1978, in which he blamed the “moral decline” of the West on the separation of man from God.

Beckett, who won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1969, wrote “Waiting for Godot,” “Endgame” and others. He first tried to dissuade the Swedish Academy from considering him for the prize, then refused to attend the ceremonies and sent a friend to collect his check for $72,800.

Salinger, who wrote “Catcher in the Rye,” lives in the Connecticut River Valley town of Cornish, N.H., and is rarely seen in public. His last known interview was given to a schoolgirl more than five years ago.

Anti-Drunk Driver Club

You’ve heard of Mothers Against Drunk Drivers (MADD) and Students Against Drunk Drivers (SADD).

Consider, then, if you will, Drinkers Against Drunk Drivers (DADD), a dead-serious offshoot of the 9-year-old International Beer Drinkers Club.

“We are the ones who are most responsible,” said founder Russ Williams, whose organization, based in Ruskin, Fla., boasts 3,000 members “worldwide,” which presumably includes Los Angeles. “We feel that we should take the bull by the horns. We’d like to say, ‘If you must drink, drink moderately, and don’t drive when you drink.’ ”

Williams, meanwhile, rarely rests in his quest to sign up new members for the IBCD.

“It’s only a $1 ‘donation,’ ” he reminded, to join the club, which has “no rules, no regulations, no meetings and no dues.”

“Actually,” he added, “we’re pretty loose,” though there is one minor prerequisite: “If you refute peace and good will,” Williams recently wrote Mikhail Gorbachev in an attempt to recruit the Soviet chairman, “your membership is automatically terminated and you must return your card.”