Getting to Vision 67by Jim Nugent, 2009"I remember driving all night and all day to get from Carbondale to New York City. I'd conned Jim Rush, who had a new red and white Plymouth Fury, into driving a carload of design students to the conference.After 19 hours in the car it was nice to pull up in front of NYU and be able to get out of the car and unwind. Jim and I were hungry so we set out on foot to find a restaurant. All we saw were bars so we picked one, went in, sat down and ordered some food and a couple of beers.As we settled in with our beers, I looked around and noticed that most of the men in the bar seemed to have a little different look than the folks back home in Carbondale... in fact most of the men in the bar were talking to other men... there were very few ladies, in fact there weren't any women in the whole place. Some of these guys had on makeup and jewelry.By God, we were in a gay bar. Not only that but I was with another guy myself. In addition, I was wearing a big Mexican wool sweater and a leather cowboy hat while Jim was wearing his usual "native southern Illinoisian" cowboy boots, bluejeans, and snap button shirt. I looked like Ratso Rizzo in the Midnight Cowboy and I was with a guy who dressed like the Marlboro Man.The Vision 67 Conference had already started so we quickly finished out dinner and beers and headed back to NYU. The conference was more mind boggling than our initiation into the Village gaybar scene.Jean Tinguely was on stage with his Rotozaza n 2 (a machine built out of found objects, lots of rusty junk, and hundreds of feet of bicycle chain. This Rube Goldberg contraption picked up beer bottles on one side of the stage and then transported them slowly across to the other side where it would destroy the bottles every now and then in a very unpredictable manner.The next morning I was working the registration desk when one of the bigwig conference organizers stopped by to chat. After a few minutes he invited us to join him back at his apartment. I said I had volunteered to cover the registration desk and I couldn't leave. As he walked away he looked back and recited five letters of the alphabet; o - p - i - u - m!Then he was out the door and gone."A Jean Tinguely SculptureBelow is a video, from a later showing of the Tinguely work featured at the Vision 67 conference that transported beer bottles.