And, deep into the second week now, Roger is finding his stride as the master of ceremonies, introducing luminaries, regaling journalists and hawking the city to visiting tycoons. For once, his provincial port shimmers with worldliness. Filipino dancers, Thai silk, Frenchwomen dousing everybody with perfume. And the food! The sudden aroma of Danish sausages, Belgian waffles and Mongolian steaks in a place accustomed to burgers, fish sticks and hot dogs. As all the strange license plates suggest, the fair is rapidly becoming the new destination of the great American road trip, with families puttering into town in bug-smeared Valiants, Skylarks and Bel Airs, just curious as hell ever since they saw the Space Needle on the cover of Time, Sunset or Life. They come by train and Boeing airliners too, thousands flying for the first time on gleaming new 707s. And Roger sees all these visitors as potential residents, straining their necks to gape at the views. And there is so much to do! Ride the silent monorail, then spend a few hours in the Science Pavilion, or how about the World of Art—never before, never again?
