The Converse people at first refused the order for the extra-large sizes because they would have to charge extra-high prices for such specially hand-lasted shoes. But a Russian consular official in New York appealed to what he called their "capitalistic instinct" and outlined a rosy picture of future business. Converse finally took the order, charging the Russians only twice the normal sales price of $5, though the cost to the company was 10 times that.
For the record, the largest shoe Converse ever has made was a size 22 for Primo Carnera, when he was barnstorming as a wrestler.
The America's Cup is worth only $40 but yachtsmen have poured at least $40 million into it. (It has a hole in the bottom.)
Where does the money go? Well, for its 1967 challenge Australia has employed four designers, developed its own testing tank, created a new concept in coffee-grinder winches and drums and even sponsored experimental work on a synthetic textile—for sails—to equal America's Dacron. In Britain, Tony Boyden, who had two 12-meters built for his last attempt, is preparing a challenge for 1970 that may be the most expensive in cup history. While Australia has everything but sailcloth, England has nothing but Boyden and his bare billions. Though design information is not secret ( Australia photographed every inch of our Constellation and had a sailmaker-in-residence learning the art from the Marblehead magician, Ted Hood), apparently there is no one in England who can interpret and apply the available knowledge. Boyden must, in fact, create his own creators. He needs a naval architect to transform the 12-meter rule into a hull shape; a fluid dynamicist to design the keel-rudder combination and the sail plan; a structural engineer; and some method of continuous feedback to coordinate all three.
Meanwhile, back in the U.S., data from the Wright Brothers wind tunnel and the ship model testing tank at Massachusetts Institute of Technology has been analyzed by Computer IBM 7094 for more refined designs of the 1967 defender's hull and sails. The MIT computers have a reputation for success. The other day PDP-6 was programmed with rock 'n' roll. It shuddered a moment and then rendered its version of a hit-parade tune.
To beat the Beatles takes only a strong stomach. More sophistication is required to plot a rendezvous with Mars. Between the two lies the deep blue sea. That's where the money goes.
DRINK UP YOUR COLOGNE, SONNY
Summer camps used to be just places where kids went for vacation, learned to swim, fish and sail, hiked, sang around campfires and were fed starchy foods so that they would put on weight. Over the past two decades camps have changed radically (the word itself has been given a new meaning by hipsters and the avant-garde). All kinds of special camps have arisen. Some dedicate themselves to theatrical work, some to music, some specialize in fat girls, some are traveling "camps" that go all over the world, some teach foreign languages and some specialize in science. Then there are the charm camps, where girls are taught makeup, speech, poise and hair styling.
This might be considered the living end, except that there is now on the market an "audacious new cologne for boy and girl campers." It is called "Summer Camp" and it is packaged in milk bottles—half pint, pint and quart size. That should be campy enough for almost anyone.