GOP NATIONAL CONVENTION : Reporters’ Notebook : Luminaries Stuck With Bush, in a Way

The rich and the famous, even some of those no longer with us, are lining up behind George Bush.

A meeting room in the august Pontchartrain Hotel is ornamented with large reproductions of the famous Karsh black-and-white photographs of such luminaries as Ernest Hemingway, George Bernard Shaw and Winston Churchill.

And on the picture glass, over the lapel of each man, campaign-button fashion, some Republican wag had stuck a “Bush ‘88” circlet.

Lamont Cranston alert: During the landslide presidential roll call vote for George Bush, the Missouri delegation was heard to announce 46 votes for Bush and one vote for “The Shadow.”

As later explained by a member of the delegation--who ran away when his name was asked--the chairman of the delegation, William Macon, who was nowhere to be seen, each year receives a letter of political advice from someone in Connecticut who signs his/her name “The Shadow.” The vote was Macon’s way of communicating with The Shadow.

If news is the unexpected, rehearsing it can get tricky, if not downright weird.

Rehearsing for the initial session of the Republican National Convention, for instance, involved deciding on the official NBC pronunciation of New Orleans and practicing those swings around the convention floor in which correspondents interview key delegates.

For the rehearsal, however, NBC producers stand in for the politicians. So when NBC correspondent Ken Bode rehearsed an interview with California Gov. George Deukmejian, he actually was interviewing producer Dennis Conner.

Despite your protests, governor, wouldn’t you accept the vice presidency if you were asked, Bode inquired. “No I won’t,” Deukmejian/Conner said, “because I’m duller than dishwater.”

Cut to Connie Chung: “I’m here with Maureen Reagan,” Chung said, looking at a heavyset and bearded Jerry Solomon, who in his other incarnation is executive producer of NBC’s Sunrise program. “Nice beard, Maureen,” Chung said.

Politicians aren’t the only targets here. When NBC commentator John Chancellor didn’t make the rehearsal, stage manager Jimmy O’Gorman sat in.

“John, you’ve put on several pounds since the convention in Atlanta,” anchorman Tom Brokaw said, introducing the senior statesman of NBC News. “But in the last week you’ve put on several tons.”

O’Gorman started laughing.

“Later tonight, John will do his imitation of oysters Rockefeller,” Brokaw said, and they broke for a commercial.

All week long, there have been some seats at the Republican National Convention that were almost never vacant.

Of the thousands meandering in and out of the Superdome daily, only a couple of dozen people were there for every word, every speech, and every speaker: the musicians.

The Manny Harmon Orchestra, out of Los Angeles, played every note of intro music for the convention and a few outside Republican gigs as well. The first few days, Harmon said, were rough. No night life? No creole cooking? No shopping? “Shopping?” Harmon said. “I’d like just an hour of rest.”