(2 of 3)
The biggest advance protest, however, has been about the money being spent. Texas Catholics are dishing out $2.5 million for his visit to San Antonio. In San Francisco, $600,000 will be spent just for press facilities; preparing the places where the Pope will appear will cost an additional $1 million. Such seemingly large outlays have angered some who believe the money would be better spent on the poor. Charges Margaret Traxler, a founder of the feminist- leaning National Coalition of American Nuns: "Twenty million dollars for a ten-day visit is immoral!" Not at all, responds Archbishop John L. May, president of the Bishops' Conference: "The church spends that amount of money on the poor every two or three days." John Paul's visit, the St. Louis prelate adds, will "help a lot of us reaffirm our commitment to our Catholic tradition." Conference Spokesman Carl Eifert calculates that the $20 million cost for the entire visit amounts to 38 cents for each of the nation's 53 million Catholics.
While debate swirls over the trip's cost, no one has any idea what to do about the commercial mania. The Bishops' Conference decided against any licensing of souvenirs; such efforts in the past, in Britain and on the Pope's 1979 U.S. visit, not only caused some controversy but also failed to produce as much income as expected. Private enterprisers, however, are not holding back. The bevy of kitschy papal souvenirs include Pope-shaped car air fresheners, Pope-on-a-rope soap, Pope Scopes -- actually periscope-like cardboard boxes with reflectors that allow viewers to see above crowds -- and "Holey See" masks, which are cutouts of the papal visage complete with miter.
The inevitable T shirts are emblazoned with slogans that range from < straightforward (THE POPE IS COMING) to egregious (POPE MCKENZIE, THE ORIGINAL VATICAN ANIMAL, an unauthorized play on the Budweiser ad). In Detroit, one of the hottest items is a $2 button of John Paul sporting a Detroit Tigers cap with the caption BLESS YOU BOYS. The prize for the most spectacularly tasteless souvenir goes to a Detroit firm that is marketing a $55, 30-in.-high aluminum Pope-shaped lawn sprinkler, called Let Us Spray. Not everyone is afflicted with the commercial bug. Some ticket brokers thought scalping for papal rallies would be a bit much. "Frankly, I think it's sacrilegious," said Rick Kline, of Los Angeles' Front Row Center Ticket Service.
There will be the usual gush of glitter without which outpourings of American emotion seem to be incomplete. Al Hirt will be trumpeting Ave Maria at a New Orleans Mass, while the city fathers, curing a lack that would never be noticed by the Pope, have imported 60 palm trees from Florida. Mayor Clint Eastwood's day will be made when he greets the Pope in Carmel. And in Detroit, Catholic Laymen Lee Iacocca and Tom Monaghan, of Chrysler and Domino's Pizza respectively, signed a letter raising funds "for the kind of welcome that all of us want to show the Holy Father." General Motors came up with 100 new Pontiac loaners, white with maroon interiors, for use by the papal retinue.
ncG1vNJzZmibn6PBprrTZ6uipZVjsLC5jq2gpp1fqMKjv8KroJudomSus8DInKOeZ2BhgHR8j3Jjcm5laIV3eZFlZ2lmmKm6rQ%3D%3D