100 New Yorkers of the 1970s — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
100 New Yorkers of the 1970s
John Stuart Mill · en
"The book coincided with a revolution of American travel habits," says
Arthur, not giving himself credit for being a prime force behind this
revolution. "When I was in college, it was unheard of for young people
to go off to Europe. It was too far, too expensive. The students of the
early 1960s became the first students in history to travel in great numbers
to Europe. Many people think the country was greatly changed by this
massive travel."
Arthur and Hope moved to the West Side in 1965, just after their daughter
was born. Among their favorite neighborhood businesses: DelPino Shoes,
which has some of the lowest prices in the city for quality Italian
footwear, and the Jean Warehouse, where Pauline buys many of her
clothes.
These days, while Hope is busy directing a play by Pamela O'Neill,
Arthur is working on several new projects. One is a course he will be
teaching at the New School starting in February. Titled "Great Cities of
Western Europe," the course will concentrate on urban problems and their
political and social solutions.
But Arthur's biggest ambition these days is to expand his company's
week-long chartered tour of Jerusalem into a two-week package for
Jerusalem and Cairo. Such a tour, he believes, would help create a bond
of understanding in the Middle East.
"It's a dream of mine," says Arthur, "that we might be a force for peace
sometime. It may not happen overnight, but I'm sure it will come."
********
EASTSIDER WILLIAM GAINES
Publisher and founder of _Mad_ magazine
9-15-79
_Mad_ magazine, an institution in American humor ever since it first
appeared in 1955, is one of the few publications on the newsstand that
carries no advertising. In the past few years, rising costs and changing
tastes have driven Mad's circulation slightly below two million, but
publisher William Gaines has no plans of giving in to commercialism.
"I was brought up on a newspaper called _PM_," recalls Gaines, an
instantly likable native New Yorker who looks like a cross between Santa
Claus and a middle-aged hippie. "It sold for a nickel while everything else
was two cents. Its policy was to take no ads, and I was kind of brought
up on the idea that it's dirty to take advertising." His face breaks out in
merriment, and he laughs the first of many deep, rich, belly laughs that
I am to hear that afternoon.
"I don't think your publication's going to want to print that, so you'd
better leave it out. Um, so I, I. ... I mean, it's not --" he sputters, before
quickly recovering and driving the point home with his customary
journalistic finesse. "As a matter of fact, if you're going to take ads, I
think the way your people do it is the way to do it. If you're _going_ to
take ads, give the publication away. But if somebody's putting out money,
it's not right. It's like going to the movies and seeing a commercial.
Television, fine: you're getting it free."