When I was a young reporter working in Washington, the party you wanted to be invited to was hosted by a guy named Steve Martindale. He was nobody in particular, but he masterminded a familiar American con. Get a few VIPs to come to your parties, pretty soon they are the hottest ticket in town, and then everybody wants to come.

In Martindale’s case, he had worked as an aide on Capitol Hill. In that capacity, he helped a few celebrities sort out visa or tax problems, most notably John Lennon and Yoko Ono. They were having trouble staying in the U.S. because of an old marijuana conviction. Martindale offered to throw a party to introduce them to several influential people. That was hardly difficult; this was John and Yoko.

They got their visas, and Martindale was launched. He threw parties for other VIPs, which of course attracted still other VIPs. His salons became a place to see and be seen, and he became the most in-demand Washington party-giver since Perle Mesta.

Martindale just happened to be in the public relations business. He was all of 28. His parties, the contacts they provided, and his PR enterprise cross-fertilized each other. He didn’t do anything illegal. He was merely a classic P.T. Barnum type.

In 1974, The Washington Post’s Sally Quinn skewered Martindale in a wicked profile that exposed his modus operandi. Martindale stayed in the PR game, but his soirees never quite recovered.