The Flavor Lasts

This afternoon when the Band plays "Wintergreen," a touch of sadness shall be mingled with the cheers. While some folks whistle, others will bow their heads as a tribute to the man who was once among us but who is all too absent in this election year. For if the name of John P. Wintergreen (formerly "for President") were on next Tuesday's ballot with Mr. Truman, Mr. Dewey and Mr. Wallace, the American political scene would come alive, and it would once more seem that "posterity is just around the corner."

Fundamentally, this Wintergreen, son of a Lower East Side song writer and a Pittsburgh playwright, was "A Man's Man," and he was said to "love the Irish and the Jews." When John P. was taking the stump, what man or woman was there who could refuse to shout his campaign slogans: "Even Your Dog Loves John P. Wintergreen" and "John P. Wintergreen--The Flavor Lasts." Who could resist the onslaught of goose pimples when John mounted the platform and began to tell a nation of his dreams of "The Full Dinner Jacket?" Who?

This man was a good at the poll as he was on the podium. In his last campaign Richmond, Virginia, gave Wintergreen more votes than Mason and Dixon combined, and in Lexington, Kentucky, he ran only 1,830,702 votes behind Straight Whiskey. What is more, he himself cast the final six votes necessary for his election.

While J. P. W. lived in the White House, his record was almost unimpeachable. Religious leaders blessed him for refusing to wed the illegitimate daughter of an illegitimate son of an illegitimate nephew of Napoleon, a stand which incidentally showed Wintergreen to be steadfastly against entangling alliances and alien unorthodoxy.

But this fall John P. Wintergreen has been with us in song only. The Presidential campaign has been dull and exhausting. We are bored with the candidates and tired by all the Issues of the Day. Now, John P. Wintergreen--there was a fine and simple man. He campaigned on a platform of love; that is all. And when there is love on the billboards, what are Issues of The Day? We have ended in thinking too deeply and quaffing too lightly.

So this afternoon when you cheer the blend of fife and tuba that is "Wintergreen," look for a moment at the man with the Dewey button and the tear in his eye and the man with the Truman button and the tear in his eye. These men understand. They know whose absence it is that makes the heart grow heavier this autumn. And not all the brass in Bubduk can blow loud enough to make up the loss of John P. Wintergreen.