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no votes today.” So I said, “Then I can go home.” He said, “Yes, you can go home.”

So I got on a plane and I went home and I get to the office here -- oh, it's maybe one o'clock or 1:30 it's probably 1:30. And there's a telephone call from Washington. The telephone call is the following: “The bells are ringing; there's a vote. It's a vote against the war.” You can't imagine how miserable I felt: a vote against the war and I'm in New York? Who's calling this vote? Bill Ryan. He had brought up some cockamamie resolution simply in support of his own race because it really couldn't have that impact. And notwithstanding the agreement that there would be no votes that day so that many had gone home and primarily the anti-war people, although that schmuck (I say it -- he's dead -- but he was a schmuck) said he had taken a count, had taken a nose count (he knows how to count noses!), which indicated there were more anti-war people in town than pro-war people and that's why he had called this vote. Of course it lost miserably -- like, God knows, three, four to one. But in the meanwhile it's embarassing to all the anti-war people who are not there to vote -- right?

So what do I do? I get here at 1:30; I get into a taxi -- I rush back to LaGuardia -- because I think of how many more votes can he call this afternoon. And I get into a plane; the plane is held up in the air, and I finally get back to Washington and I rush up the steps and it's five o'clock. I've been in