Let Us Entertain You

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."