Thursday, October 09, 2008
The Mike Huckabee story
"The terrorists," it has been said, "hate us because of our freedom." I could never quite get along with that statement for a litany of reasons. (Not the least of which is it makes absolutely no sense.) Were it true, they would surpass even a great hall of haters, that rogue collection of losers and scoundrels that draw faith from another's failure, pleasure from pain.I thought a more accurate depiction of the source of their hatred had something to do with how policy decisions affect real people. And our tendency to wash up with food.
It is the excess of Western culture that is really to blame for the enemies we seem to accrue like so much debt. Americans are a wasteful people. Avocado is a facial wash. We scoff at the sight of burnt toast. We are obsessed with a pop-culture phenomenon that consists of someone on throwing dollar bills that flutter down on people at a disco. All of it has programmed us to believe that there are rules of status – one of them being that they do not associate with us.
So when Mike Huckabee, the former governor of Arkansas who finished second to eventual nominee John McCain in a several primaries this year, sat down on the D train the other day, my thought was that it wasn't him. I was with a group that included my good friend Gary, a producer at NBC, Jennifer, a fashion designer, Lindsay, an accountant for a private dental practice and future dental student, and Patrice, a musician. "This guy," I proclaimed, "looks just like Mike Huckabee."
Patrice stared at him and suddenly was drunk with laughter. "Oh woooooow, he does."
The only problem, of course, was that he was Mike Huckabee sans press secretary, personal assistant or any type of security. He wore a blue shirt that had the initials M.D.H in cursive writing at the cuff and carried an unmarked bag that looked like it was take out from a cheap Chinese restaurant. After all, he had gotten on at Grand St. A man and woman came up to him.
"We're big fans of yours," one of them said, as if he was still on the campaign trail in Iowa. He thanked them warmly, naturally, and they sat back down.
"You know," I said, motioning to him to get his attention. "I'm sitting here saying", wow, this guy looks like Mike Huckabee. Now I feel like an idiot."
He laughed, and robotically stuck out his hand. "I'm Mike."
"Darren."
He mentioned a few tidbits about his show on Fox News, which is why he was in New York. "They treating you well up there?" I asked.
"Oh yes, just fine. Though I'm sure I'll say something sooner or later that'll cancel that out real quick," he said, alluding to his pension for controversial public comments. We all laughed.
Huckabee spoke with the sort of fluid cadence that was his mark on the trail, the type of speech that makes it sound like everything he says is funny. He asked where I lived. He mentioned that he visited a church in Harlem that he really enjoyed, then asked where we went to church. I gave the Kings Church of Christ, and our ridiculously talented minister, David Wilson, a huge plug.
"Mike Huckabee?" a 20-something guy with blond hair, stuck out his hand. He acknowledged him and smiled. "I like your style man!"
Flattered and maybe a little embarrassed, Huckabee motioned to all of us, saying, "I guess liking my style means that it's pretty cool that I'm riding the subway."
He widened his eyes and shrugged, as if not knowing what to say to that.
His actions said that status does not mean you have to be excessive.
"It's the easiest way to get somewhere."
The reporter in me came out eventually. I asked him what he thought about Sarah Palin's performance in the debate against Joe Biden on Thursday. He would refer to Sarah Palin as "Sarah." And Katie Couric as "Katie."
"I thought Sarah really helped herself," he said with gravitas, a sign that he is taking his job as a political analyst for Fox News seriously. "I mean, she was just dreadful with Katie. And I mean awful. I really like her and she's a terrific friend of mine but she was terrible."
He was close to his stop now. I asked if he'd be embarrassed if we asked for a picture. Gary had his camera. "Oh no, no not all."
So we took one big, black happy photo with Mike Huckabee on the D train.
Labels: for journalism's sake, political coverage, relationships
continue...Thursday, August 28, 2008
Oh, the signs are everywhere
So, I should have said something.It's election time and everything is coming up screwy in the town I cover. A few weeks ago, one candidate had some signs stolen. Another supporter got his car egged and some signs stolen -- then called the police.
I wrote the initial story saying the signs had been stolen. The supporter told me a tip -- the car likely belonged to the former police chief and it was his daughters and another candidate's son who were in the car.
Okay. Here's where I messed up.
I took the tip and that's pretty much it. I didn't want to write about the signs and dragging these kids through the mud didn't seem like my idea of fun. So I didn't tell my boss.
*Gasp* *Shock* *Horror*
I know. Not the best move.
Fast forward a week.
Said supporter calls the main newsroom and gets the ear of another reporter. Said reporter tells his boss, who tells his boss, who calls my boss asking why we didn't know about this.
Well, we did. I just didn't say anything.
My boss agreed that the story didn't need to be reported, but today, said that regardless, I've got to be more transparent with information I have.
Yeah. I guess she's right.
Oh, and said reporter wrote the story. It ran in today's paper.
No one is pressing charges, it seems.
Labels: office politics, political coverage, relationships
continue...Thursday, June 05, 2008
Love's in need of love, just not today...
(*queues the music)Good morn or evening friends / Here's your friendly announcer / I have
serious news to pass on to every-body / What I'm about to say (won't) mean the world's disaster / (And won't) change your joy and laughter to tears and pain. - Stevie Wonder, Love's in Need of Love Today (Love-less Remix)
Aaron IS and has been just fine being single.
(*gasps)
I know. It's hard to believe, right?
Somehow people around me think that romantic relationships are what validate your existence on this planet. And I'm sorry to report...I'm just not convinced of that.
Journalism. That's what validates me right now. (Cheesy, I know.) I've just recieved a degree in it. I've got to put every ounce of my energy into jump-starting my career (which I, too, take seriously, Vandy).
And when I go home, I don't down myself because of the extra space in my IKEA bed. In fact, I think I'm pretty damn lucky that nothing (and no one) is distracting from what I'm trying to do right now.
No. I don't need someone telling me I'm too busy for them. I don't need someone angry at me because I had to go out and cover something, unexpectedly. I don't need someone disappointed when I come home and I all want to do sleep and NOT talk, especially not on the phone.
In other words...GET OFF MY BACK ABOUT IT!
Is there something wrong with that? Should I desire cohabitation right now?
Labels: journalism, love, me-myself-and-I, relationships
continue...