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who were arguing for disinvestment in South Africa had barred all the doors. So, we either had to use force or give up the dinner. And after about 45 minutes of milling around, we decided to give up the dinner, and all go our own ways--have a sandwich somewhere [laughter]. The thing that killed me about it was--the food was given to the poor and the homeless, which I thought was just fine. I said: “What happened to the wine?” [laughter]--being a wino--and they said: “Well, that's a very sad story. Because the waiters had opened all the bottles, so there was nothing left to do but to pour it down the drain.”

This was a black-tie dinner?

Black-tie dinner. I said: “Good God, you could at least have told me! I could have disposed of them, good deal of it!”

Who actually made the decision not to go to the dinner?

I guess Derek did, finally. You know, we tried--some people actually got in through a back door. But clearly, because we hadn't expected this picketing, there was no way of getting in except by bodily removing the people. And we weren't prepared for that: we had very few cops around, just the Harvard cops and so on. In the future we will have--and indeed, have had--better intelligence, because there was a dinner just a month or two ago where we knew they were going to picket, and we had the Harvard cops and the Cambridge cops and the Boston cops out in force, and of course, they kept the