The City: So Long at the Fair

Scene: a large corner office in a building set in lonely splendor on the site of the old New York World's Fair of 1939-40. President Robert Moses (called R.M. by his aides) is at his round desk-table. Rimmed around it are neatly dressed staffmen, their mouths at the ready in case R.M. says something that calls for a quick laugh. R.M. tilts back in his chair, scoops up some peanuts from a silver bowl, drops a few into his mouth, brushes a husk from his tie, and jerks a thumb toward a sign on the wall that reads "777 Days Until Opening." Says R.M.: "That's no joke. We'll be open and we'll be ready." The smiling assistants compete mildly for the first affirmative. R.M. reaches for more peanuts. Cut.

Not Peanuts. Like every world's fair since Prince Albert gave his blessing to the first one in 1851,* the New York World's Fair 1964-65 will presumably be a business venture, a supposedly self-supporting promotion spectacular. And like most of its predecessors, its chances of breaking even are slim. Among U.S. fairs in the past 30 years, only Chicago's Century of Progress in 1933 squeezed out a profit—a piddling $702,171 return on the original $47 million investment. New York's 1939-40 World of Tomorrow, a frantic eat-drink-and-be-merry extravaganza held in the shadow of World War II, cost $156,905,000, paid back only 33.2% of its investors' money.

Who Needs It? Most New Yorkers, notably apathetic in matters of civic pride, regard with horror the prospect of visiting hordes who will turn the city's already crowded subways and buses into rolling sardine cans. Financiers, remembering the bleak profit history of the 1939 fair, can scarcely be delirious over the prospect of investing in a new one. Still, the World's Fair of 1964-65 Corp. is confident that everybody does indeed need it—notably, New York's merchants and innkeepers. But with an uneasy 700-odd days left in which to line up exhibitors, foreign participation. Government sponsorship—and to get the thing built—Moses has had more rebuffs than cheers for his billion-dollar bazaar. Among them:

> The Bureau International des Expositions governs the participation of 30 nations in world's fairs, has refused to recognize the 1964 fair. According to B.I.E. ground rules, no nation may participate in more than one fair in a single country within a ten-year period. B.I.E.'s blessing has already been bestowed upon Seattle's Century 21 Exposition, which opens in April, a ruling that automatically leaves New York without official representation from European governments. But Grover Whalen, in 1939, faced limited B.I.E. participation, still ended up with some handsome European pavilions. Says Moses: "We don't take this B.I.E. business very seriously. You won't find anybody around here worrying about it."

> An appropriation for studying possibilities of a U.S. pavilion failed to pass the Senate during the last session. Moses: "There's no question about it. The Federal Pavilion will be in the fair."

> Money for initial construction and promotion has been hard to come by. Moses: "You have to get this into perspective. This is a billion-dollar fair. We need $64 million for preliminary expenses; New York City gave us $24 million, we raised $30 million, and we'll get the rest."