The 1964 - 1965 New York World's Fair opened on April 22, 1964 in Flushing Meadows, Corona Park in the Borough of Queens and ran for two six-month seasons concluding in 1965. "Peace Through Understanding," was the theme, dedicated to "Man's Achievement on a Shrinking Globe in an Expanding Universe." The theme was symbolized by a twelve-story high, stainless-steel model of the earth called Unisphere. The Fair is remembered as a showcase of mid- century Americana, the Space Age, Twist and Belgian Waffles.
51-million people attended the Fair, but this was less than the hoped-for 70-million.
As an extra added attraction, we found Candy Johnson, a blond firecracker, billed as “Miss Perpetual Motion," who twisted so fast and furious that she claimed to lose ten-pounds during each performance. We did four shows a day, and scales were dragged out onto the stage for a pre-show weigh-in. It was all too bizarre. The scales didn’t lie; she dropped ten pounds four times a day. Candy enjoyed brief, but memorable appearances in four “Beach Party” movies with Annette and Frankie, and then worked the lounges at the Thunderbird in Las Vegas, and the El Mirador in Palm Springs.
By the time “Miss Perpetual Motion” arrived at Flushing Meadows, she had amassed a colossal collection of tight-fitting, fringed shimmy dresses in every imaginable color.
I spent two sweltering summers entertaining at The New York World’s Fair, performing for tourists, happy to pay the two dollars just for a place to sit, rest their feet and eat their Belgian waffles. Our twist revue with a troup of professional dancers opened at at the Bourbon Street pavilion, a jazz joint with Gene Krupa’s quintet at the bar.
The Fair's big entertainment spectacles, including the "Wonder World" at the Meadow Lake Amphitheatre, "To Broadway with Love" in the Texas Pavilion, and Dick Button's "Ice-travaganza" in the New York City Pavilion, all closed early, with heavy losses. When "Wonder World" shutdown for lack of interest, we were invited to appear at the 11,000 seat arena, based on the approval of fair officials.
We were required to audition for the ubiquitous Robert Moses, the sourpuss, self-proclaimed arbiter of taste to the cultured masses who shuffled aimlessly around Flushing Meadows each day. Robert Moses sat way back there, alone in the bleachers, and we danced our way through our hour of mashed potatoes, slop, Popeye, pony, monkey, mouse, jerk, fly, swim, stroll, cha cha, chalypso, funky-chicken, boogaloo, limbo, hully-gully, hucklebuck, hand-jive, and twist.
The next day, in a page one story in the New York Times, Mr. Moses declared, “Clay Cole’s Twistarama is a dirty, filthy, rotten show.” Thanks to Mr. Moses’ front-page review, we played four shows a day for much of the first summer season.
Clay Cole Revue: First stop Bourbon Street, then (above, snapshot
of entrance) to the 11,000 seat Meadow Lake Amphitheatre, 1964
