Path: bloom-picayune.mit.edu!snorkelwacker.mit.edu!americast.com!americast.com!americast-post Newsgroups: americast.twt.news From: americast-post@AmeriCast.Com Organization: American Cybercasting Approved: americast-post@AmeriCast.com Subject: A few regrets for Eberhard Faber Date: Wed, 28 Oct 92 15:01:10 EST Message-ID: \SE A;NATION;PRUDEN ON POLITICS \HD A few regrets for Eberhard Faber \BY Wesley Pruden \CR THE WASHINGTON TIMES In the land of the minicam and the hand-held tape recorder, Eberhard Faber No. 2 is merely an impostor. Not so long ago, newspaper reporters with their stenographer's pads and pencils were the kings of the campaign trail - and television reporters ran along at their heels trying to overhear enough to understand what was going on. The TV reporters still run to expensively coiffed airheads, bountifully endowed bimbos and over-the-hill gasbags, but the pencil has been eclipsed by the tin-can mike. TV reporters and their rich cousins, the talk-show hosts, have so taken over the spotlight of the klieg lights that when Ross Perot went to the Boston Herald with his cockamamie story about how George Bush planned to throw Barbara's tennis shoe in the punch to ruin a Perot wedding, a lot of reporters following the candidates were surprised. Some of the "electronic press" even put on a pout. This has not happened overnight. Ellen Hume, who was once the dishy redhead reporter for the Wall Street Journal and who now professes journalism and politics at Harvard, recalls crawling on her hands and knees to catch a glimpse of Geraldine Ferraro through the legs of TV-camera tripods. "I realized then that the game had changed tremendously," she says. But Sam Donaldson and Lesley Stahl have gone on to studio assignments, where they can dispense gas more comfortably, and the reporters the candidates really like are the "correspondents" for the local newscasts, whose idea of a really tough question is something like, "How does it feel to be in Topeka?" On a typical campaign day, Bill Clinton and George Bush will do five or six satellite interviews with reporters in distant cities. The reporters can stand in front of a cutout of the Capitol or the Washington Monument, the Burberry pulled up rakishly against the throat, and impress everyone in Boise, few of whom suspect that the reporter is still in Boise and the candidate is half a continent away. The candidates' handlers usually keep their men at a safe distance from the newspaper reporters, who might ask a real question, get a burst of real candor, and set off a real earthquake. Mr. Slick occasionally stops in the galley of his campaign plane to talk to a reporter or two, but there's usually an aide - not always the bimbo catcher, either - to pull him away and lead him back to his seat. Accidents sometimes happen. The other day Mr. Slick stopped to chat for 45 minutes with Jack Nelson, the Washington bureau chief for the Los Angeles Times. "I have to admit that one of the reasons I get my phone calls returned is that I'm on 'Washington Week in Review' on public television," he concedes with a hint of sheepish regret. The president is even more wary of pencils. A press flack cheerfully concedes that a TV reporter is less intellectually strenuous for her candidate: "We think we get better exposure." Candidates once met with the editors of major newspapers, seeking endorsements. That's no longer common. The New York Times not so long ago could summon presidents to Mount Olympus - or what the editors imagined was Mount Olympus - but this year both the president and the governor gave the Times the brushoff. The Times endorsed Mr. Slick anyway. (When The Washington Times endorsed the president in August, the president himself called to say thanks, and gave us an exclusive interview four days later.) But it's not endorsements that anyone wants from television. It's only the use of the screen, where any face can be made to look presentable, the questions are guaranteed softballs, and nobody talks (or asks) back. This year the argument over debates was about whether reporters ought to be included, and Helen Thomas of UPI demonstrated in the third debate that if we've got to have these psuedo-debates a sharp pencil reporter will do most to enliven them. By '96, we may decide to dispense with the election and let the ratings determine who ought to be president. The smart money is on MTV. This article is copyright 1992 The Washington Times. Redistribution to other sites is not permitted except by arrangement with American Cybercasting Corporation. For more information, send-email to usa@AmeriCast.COM