Chicago Tribune from Chicago, Illinois • 57

(Diicaga (Tribune Wednesday, May 25, 1983 Section 4 (- -Bob Greens 'Da Fest' tunes out on $1 million note THERE'S good news this morning. It Cf I as ChicagoFest may be dead. I I The new administration has already made II it clear that the city will not sponsor ChicagoFest also known as Drunk TeenagerFest-this time out. Private businessmen have been looking into ways of sponsoring ChicagoFest themselves. But now the city has sent the message that these businessmen would have to pay the city $1 million for police, sanitation and other services.

That $1 million means that there may be no ChicagoFest in 1983. Hallelujah. If your idea of a good time is to watch thousands of sweaty teenagers in cutoff jeans and rock radio station T-shirts guzzling beer until they're ready to vomit, then ChicagoFest is for you. That has been the primary purpose of ChicagoFest. to provide a convenient place for teenagers to go, purchase beer even though they're underage, listen to loud music and throw up.

IT'S NO WONDER that the businessmen are worried about the idea of ChicagoFest going away ChicagoFest is a very convenient way to assure that hundreds of thousands of people will be herded into one location, where they can buy food catered by those same businessmen and their friends. That, after all, is why the businessmen are interested in keeping ChicagoFest alive. The midway of ChicagoFest resembles nothing more than a drug rehabilitation center. Thousands of sodden teenagers many of them, probably most, from the suburbs recline on grassy slopes, their eyes glazed over, their mouths hanging slack, listening to disc jockeys playing their favorite music. Nothing, wrong with that, perhaps but it always seemed weird for it to be taking place on city property, looked over by city police officers, in an event that bears the city's name.

My phone has been ringing with calls from young people alarmed that ChicagoFest may be taken away from them this year. They are near the state of panic at the thought that, come August, they may Star Wars stars Harrison Ford from left, Mark Hamill and Carrie Fisher are back in "Return of the Expanding talents in a universe of adventure. 'Return of the Jedi': Another quality toy in 'Star Wars' line By Gene Siskel Movie critic ON'T WORRY, "Star Wars" fans, none of the big secrets of "Return of the Jedi" will be revealed in this review. Spilling the beans on "Jedi" is like telling a kid what he's going to get "Return of the Jedi" Mini-review: Three Is not enough Directed by Richard Marquand; screenplay by Lawrence Keedan and George Luces based on a atory by Lucas; photographed by Alan Hume; edited by Sean Barton, Marc la Lucaa and Duwayne Dunham; music by John Williams; production design by Norman Reynolds; sound by Ben Burr); vleual effects aupervleed by Richard Edlund, Dennis Muren and Ken Ralston; produced by Howard Kazanlan; a 20th Century-Fox raleaee at the State-Lake, Esquire and outlying theaters. Rated PQ.

THE CAST Luke Skywalker Mark Hamill Emperor Ian McDIarmld Han Solo Harrison Ford Yoda Frank Oz Princess Lela Carrie Fleher Derth Verier David Prowse If your idea of a good time is to watch thousands of sweaty teenagers in cutoff jeans and rock radio station T-shirts guzzling beer until they're ready to vomit, then ChicagoFest is for you. for Christmas. It's downright un-American. And thinking of "Return of the Jedi" as some kind of holidav gift isn't a bad analogy. All three of the "Star Wars films are reminders of the childhood joy of going to the movies when it was enough simply to be alone in the dark with pictures that moved.

From the moment that the familiar "Star Wars" introductory words beein to crawl ud the screen. "Re Voice of Derth Veder Earl Lando Calriselan Billy Dee Williams C3PO Anthony Daniels Chewbacca Peter Meyhew Anakln Skywalker Sebastian Shaw On the upside, however, the list goes on and on. Sound and music are important because they tend to be ignored by fans of the series who often are mesmerized by the striking special visual effects and charismatic creatures. BUT WITH "Jedi," listen to the creaking, huge metal door that opens and leads the androids C3PO and R2D2 to the cave of Jabba the Hutt, where, at the beginning of the film, good-guy space-pilot Han Solo is frozen in a carbonite mold like some kind of nouvelle cuisine side dish. It will remind old-time radio listeners of the creaking door of the "Inner Sanctum" show, and it serves the same purpose.

Both are doorways to adventure. The adventure here is the attempt of the young rebel forces to triumph finally over the evil Empire storm-troopers. But that's the "big picture." On a smaller, more personal scale, "Return of the Jedi" is the conclusion of young Luke Skywalker's journey into adulthood, a journey that teaches him to control the life force within him. ALONG FOR the journey are all of your regular favorites, including Princess Leia showing a lot of leg this time, Han Solo and his loyal friend Chewbacca, wise man Ben Kenobi, the lovable Jedi master Yoda, Continued on page 8 Ben Kenobl Alee Guinness R2D2 Kenny turn of the Jedi" is a childlike delight. It's the best video game around.

And for the professional moviegoers, it is particularly enjoyable to watch every facet of filmmaking at its best. For example, I can't think of another recent picture whose sound I enjoyed so much, whether it is Ben Burtt's scraping, electric-razorlike light sabers or John Williams' rousing, wall-to-wall musical score. Both men are Academy Award-winners, and here they are at peak form. Credit "Star Wars" creator George Lucas for assembling a top-flight crew of technicians. Lucas often has been quoted as saying that he wants to make only quality toys for children out of the "Star Wars" movies; "Jedi" Is a well-made toy for the eyes.

It's almost flawless. I take notes while watching a movie, and my list of complaints with "Jedi" is very short. I found it hard to understand little Yoda during parts of his conversation with Luke Skywalker. Two new characters in Jabba the Hutt's musical band, particularly a little blue elephant, reminded me too much of the Muppets and therefore weren't "otherworldly" enough. And that's it.

End of list. Winnetka Diet Salesman sets his sights on fat profits Cap'n Crunch programs his way from jail to success By Pete Carey 't lAN JOSE, Calif. The year was 1979, and telephone prankster jonn Draper, Ji alias cap uruncn, naa Deen caugni again. -V. not be able to go to the festival or "to da Fest," as they put it.

ONE YOUNG MAN with whom I spoke said: "Mayor Washington doesn't have any idea what the people of Chicago want." And what is it that the "people of Chicago" want? "ChicagoFest. To go to da Fest. It's what Chicago's all about." And where do you live? "Downers Grove." MANY OF the callers have opined that if ChicagoFest is not held this year, then "the greatest thing about Chicago" will have disappeared. Perhaps. But in most cities, if something like ChicagoFest were to suddenly appear for the first time, unannounced, the first thing the mayor would do would be to call out the National Guard.

Chicago is probably the only place in the country where, for some reason, city administrations have actually seemed to be proud that such a thing was going on on their property. The commuter trains running back out to the suburbs on ChicagoFest evenings have looked like something out of teenage horror movies. The youths from the hinterlands packed onto the trains every night after da Fest ended, yelling and drinking some more and engaging in what can most politely be described as foreplay. Any sober adult who had the misfortune of being on one of those trains can tell you about it. But those adults on the trains, by all accounts, are the lucky ones.

During last year's ChicagoFest, I talked with one woman with a physical handicap, who had gone to Navy Pier in her wheelchair. She had read and heard all of the wonderful publicity about ChicagoFest; she had envisioned a jolly, fun, upbeat outing sort of like a Cook County Fair, SO, SHE TOLD me, she was in her wheelchair, and she found herself next to one of the stages that featured music by rock bands. She noticed a young man in a T-shirt bearing the call letters of one of the rock radio stations. The man had a beer in one hand, and in the other hand was carrying a towering stack of empty, multicolored plastic ChicagoFest beer cups. Carrying the stacks of cups is a rite of passage at ChicagoFest; it is a visual symbol of how much beer the bearer has consumed.

The young man teetered over toward her, until he was right in front of her. Then, she said this was in broad daylight he urinated on her. "I want to be fair to him," the woman said. "I don't think he intended to urinate on me. I don't even think he knew he was urinating on me.

He just decided it was time for him to do it, and I happened to be right in front of him at the time." I don't want to give the impression that if you go to da Fest, something like that will happen to you. It probably won't. You might merely get Deer dumped on your shirt, or get your head cracked by a flying missile intended for a band whose tunes do not agree with the young music-lovers out in the audience. If Mayor Washington does nothing more during the next four years than to get rid of ChicagoFest, then his administration is already a success. Jo fi eA rvCl 4 By Jean Davidson rT-V ICHARD BARNARD doesn't JJ have to order lunch; Litsa, the I beaming Greek waitress, NeV knows his order by heart.

Today, as most days, it is tuna salad on a crisp bed of lettuce, a slice of rye bread on the side, a couple of black olives and a Tab garnished with lemon. Despite his stocky frame, Barnard has an image to create. Here, in the Winnetka Sweet Shop, a curious combination of soda fountain restaurant and health food store, Barnard holds court. "Winnetka Diet Milkshakes 200 Calories" teases a sign in the window. Canisters of the diet powder are stacked on the mottled Formica counter, to the right of the all-natural ice cream and near the photograph of native son Rock Hudson.

"America's got to be the greatest diet market in the world. As long as I have been looking at magazine covers, there have been svelte models and articles about this month's new diet," says Barnard, who ought to know. Barnard is the Moses of the Winnetka Diet, giver of "The plan that really works for you." The fact that other diets named for exclusive enclaves Scarsdale, Cambridge and Beverly Hills have been phenomenally successful has not escaped Barnard or the waist-watchers who have made the Winnetka Diet a North Shore fad. THE DIET HAS been on the shelves of 300 local health food stores and drugstores for up to six months, and several of the retailers including one in Calumet Park report that they can barely keep it in stock. The momentum apparently is building; most of the 3,600 cans sold so far have been sold within the last 10 weeks, Barnard says.

He is no Richard Simmons yet, In rumpled clothes and tousled hair and with a slightly fanatical air, Draper stood before Judge Robert Peckham here in U.S. District Court and listened. "You're no stranger to this court," the judge told Draper. "Is this not simple? You nave to pay for your telephone calls." Draper had been in the habit of making calls with strange devices that helped him avoid telephone company billing equipment. The strangest of all was a whistle from a Cap'n Crunch cereal box, which, he learned in the 1960s, would trigger telephone switching equipment when he blew it near the receiver.

ON MARCH 9, 1979, Judge Peckham found Draper guilty of violating the terms of his parole on a 1976 conviction of cheating the phone company. He gave him a year of nights in county jail, reduced to four months by time he'd already served at a federal penitentiary for a 1978 conviction. Draper had been arrested so many times that he complained the FBI was practically persecuting him. His first arrest was in 1972 for fraud by wire; the second in 1976, when he served four months in Lompoc federal penitentiary; the third in Pennsylvania in 1978, followed by his appearance before Judge Peckham for probation violation. "You're bright," Peckham said.

"I hope you can find something constructive to do with your talents." Peckham says he lost track of Draper after -that. "Whatever happened to him?" he asked recently. Draper is a wealthy executive now, president of his own computer-programming com- Continued on page 3 HWMiiMeaeaaweeHelk Tribune pholo by Earl Gualie. Richard Barnard with a diet shake in the Winnetka Sweet Shop. but with a newly signed four-state diet distribution contract, he could follow in the paths of other fad millionaires.

Barnard is an unlikely diet guru. His name was Richard Ray Smause until Nov. 30, when he went to court to adopt a more marketable appellation. He is 55 and burly, a law school graduate-turned-labor mediator-turned vitamin salesman and amateur opera singer. Make no mistake, says one customer, "an old-fashioned, hard-working salesman is what he is." Barnard tipped the scales at 200 pounds last tall.

Using the Winnetka in place of two meals each day, he says that he dropped 20 pounds, but has since regained 6. "It's difficult to sell diets when you're heavy, and I've had a weight problem all my life," Barnard acknowledges, "It's like talking to an exercise instructor who doesn't have any muscles." To those who point out the paunch that determinedly squats about his middle, Barnard quotes Benjamin Franklin: "Do as I say, not as I do." The Winnetka Diet formula was Continued on page 5 Smile Joggers: People who are seeking their pace in the sun. i Hgmoc on Parade I I I i 188) Uruled I ealura Syndicate. Inc. I gj A CcgMS BREAKJJ Jfczr; fll--1 a ffs Thursday in Tempo In a single year, it attended nine weddings and a frozen food convention, went on a Caribbean cruise, was stood up by Gloria Vanderbilt, and it witnessed, a death.

Clarence Petersen chronicles the social life of a size 42 regular rental tuxedo. i.